#forgot how much this movie slaps

[marvelsdc22]

Natasha(referring to Bruce): "At least he treats me like I'm somebody!"

Y/N: "Yeah, but would he love you if you were nobody?!"

Natasha: "Nobody loved me when I was nobody!"

Y/N: "I did!"

*Natasha stares at you in shock as she processes your words*

Y/N(voice breaking): "Before the Avengers... Before the fame... before the lie..."

[witchwhaat]

saw akira at cinema

[himemeika]

I genuinely don't understand how ppl could like O/cea/n Wa/ves for what it is. the "romance" was so unbearable and shoehorned in it's actually infuriating and bizzare

[cantofworms]

What’s the last movie you watched?

my roommate and I just watched the nightmare before christmas :D !!! I hadn’t seen it in years and I wanna watch more spooky movies this month

[atrwriting]

terrible company — logan howlett x reader

secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are

side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene

back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy

barely edited we die like overworked students men

minors fuck off plz n thnx

as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick

—

“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”

you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.

he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.

you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”

he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”

you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.

you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.

your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.

not even close.

the worst part was that logan was your partner.

it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.

you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.

but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?

made your fucking blood boil.

that no good, rotten, fucking —

“hey, sweetheart —“

when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.

“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.

fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.

he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”

he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.

you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.

he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.

you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.

“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”

“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.

he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”

with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.

no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —

but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.

but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.

you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.

fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.

when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.

when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.

“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.

“…is it working?”

you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.

fuck.

you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.

“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”

“…fuckin’ vegans.”

“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”

“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.

you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.

you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.

you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.

him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.

“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.

straddled him, to be more exact.

in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.

“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“

he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.

you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”

he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.

“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.

“you’re good — i get them, too.”

“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.

that was it. the final straw.

you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”

he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”

“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”

“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”

“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”

oh — you shouldn’t have.

you really, really shouldn’t have.

you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.

you watched his nose crinkle in anger.

he let out a frustrated, slow breath.

another.

and another.

and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.

you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.

“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”

you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?

“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”

you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“

he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.

“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”

you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.

heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.

“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.

the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.

logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.

men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.

and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.

it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.

…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —

he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.

instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.

and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.

he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.

“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”

“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“

he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”

you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.

“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”

you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”

you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.

you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.

it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.

he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.

you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.

“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”

you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.

it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”

you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.

“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”

“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“

“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”

“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.

“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“

every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.

logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.

“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.

and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.

he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.

“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”

you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.

the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.

he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.

“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”

you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”

that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.

“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”

“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”

he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.

“right there —!” you sobbed.

“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”

you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.

“all mine.”

“my fucking pussy —“

“good fucking girl —“

“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”

your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.

logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.

you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.

it was going to be a long, long night...

[bahablastplz]

Snap: Minho x Reader x Jisung

After your boyfriend decides to punish you by not touching you for two weeks, you take matters into your own hands. There's one way to make him snap, and that is Han Jisung. Content: Smut. That's it. Warnings: Heavy degradation, humiliation, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, choking, complicated feelings WC: 3500

You should have known not to test your boyfriend. 

Your boyfriend Minho is one of the best things that has ever happened to you. He is sweet, kind, forgiving, and so so patient with you. 

Ever since you have been dating, he has done an amazing job to make sure you feel loved, whether that be through smaller gestures like baking food with you or writing notes, or buying you flowers and taking you out on the best dates of your life. He is thoughtful and caring, and you both love each other very much. 

The other great thing about Minho is this other side of the world he has helped you to explore… sexually, that is. He introduced you to the world of doms and subs and your relationship has absolutely thrived on that dynamic. Because for that gentle, loving and caring boyfriend that you get to see during the day… you also get to see the exact opposite. Minho, who will take no bullshit. Minho, who can edge you for hours on end and knows exactly which buttons to push to get you to fall apart for him. Minho, who can wrap his hand around your throat and whisper the filthiest, most vulgar things in your ears to try to get you to submit to him. 

Lee Minho, your boyfriend, is an enigma. Better yet, he is yours.

Which is why you know that you can get away with pushing him to his limits the same way that he pushes you to yours. 

That’s sort of how you got yourself into your current situation. 

 Because, maybe one day you decided to push him, and he might have caught you touching yourself in your bed when you weren’t supposed to. And when he tried to give you your punishment, you had an orgasm without his permission. Fast forward to your new punishment: He hasn’t touched you in two weeks. 

Sometimes, you feel like your boyfriend has turned you into a sex-craved machine. But, who can blame you? It’s not your fault that your boyfriend has a body sculpted by the Gods and an even sexier personality. You swore on your life you would never beg and be desperate for a man. And then came Minho. 

During the past two weeks, you have felt absolutely deprived and horny out of your goddamn mind. He knew it, too. He saw the way that you would squeeze your legs together whenever he sat next to you, the way you would squirm, the way that your eyes would get blown out and your breathing heavy… and he didn’t even have to touch you. It was a mind game, and you were losing badly. 

So, that’s how you came up with your awful idea; push Minho to the breaking point and watch him snap. It was a win/win, really. Not only would your punishment end, but maybe you could get him angry enough to have the rough, hard, toe-curling sex you’ve been craving. You just needed to wait for the right opportunity… and it practically fell into your lap. 

Movie night with Han Jisung. 

Jisung is Minho’s best friend. The two are practically inseparable, bonded with a connection deeper than words could describe. Of course, Jisung was at one point one of your best friends as well, as he was the one that introduced you to your boyfriend in the first place. That’s how you know that the way to get to Minho is through Jisung. 

It started with making dinner, the three of you. It’s a weekly tradition, Friday nights eating homemade dinner and watching cheesy movies. This week is your pick, too. It was almost like all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. 

You laugh at Jisung’s jokes. Of course, Minho laughs too, but you make a point to laugh harder than you should, slapping your hand onto his shoulder. “Jisung, you are so funny,” you laugh. “I forgot how funny you are. We should hang out more!” 

That causes the man to let out a shy chuckle, throwing his hand behind his head sheepishly. You look over at your boyfriend and smile at him brightly. 

That night, you make sure to leave lingering touches on Jisung’s body. You reach into the popcorn bowl at the same time as him, grazing his knuckles with your fingers. You swipe a piece of stray hair behind his ear. You even drape your legs across his lap completely during the movie. It always leads to a light laugh from him and a blush that spreads across his cheeks, his eyes flickering to Minho’s for approval. Of course, Minho was never looking at him. 

He was looking at you. 

His eyes bore into yours all night, eyes hard and mouth set into a straight line. You really, truly couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But you make a show of looking at him for a reaction every time and smiling at him with big, bright eyes. 

That night, for your movie choice you made sure to pick the raunchiest, sexiest chick flick that you could find. So of course, when a sex scene started playing you shifted your position. Switching the direction of your body, you put your legs on Minho’s lap and your head on Jisung’s thigh, looking up at him with a bright smile. You admire his bright red cheeks, obviously flushed from the situation at hand. 

“Isn’t this a good movie, Sungie?” You giggle, nustling your head against his thigh. That is the breaking point. 

Minho’s hand reaches across the table, snatching the remote. The TV turns off, causing you and Jisung to turn your heads to look at him. 

“Enough,” he said in a low timbre. 

“What?” you ask innocently. That’s when Minho grabbed the flesh of your thigh hard, kneading the muscle. You gasp when he does so, not expecting the action. His hand trails higher and cups your clothed pussy. 

That was something else… you had put on one of the most revealing outfits you owned, clad with a tight tank-top and miniskirt. This gives Minho easy access to slip his hand right where you need him most. 

“Minho, what are you–” 

“Shhh. If you’re going to act like a needy slut, then you’re going to fucking take it.” Your face goes completely red. While you were expecting him to snap, you thought he was going to drag you to your room and fuck the shit out of you. Not in the living room, while your head rests on Jisung’s lap. 

Your eyes shoot up to Jisung’s, who has been staring at you unabashedly this whole time. When your eyes meet, he clears his throat. 

“Um… I should probably go,” he says, making to stand up. 

“Don’t.” Minho’s voice is sharp, causing you both to freeze. At the same time, he slides your panties to the side and thrusts a finger into your core, causing your body to rock back into Jisung. You let out a loud moan–after weeks, you’re finally getting the contact you’ve been desperately craving. Jisung’s hands make way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he looks at Minho. 

“You’re gonna act like you haven’t been loving my girlfriend touching up on you and flirting with you all night? God, it’s so obvious, Sungie,” he laughs, continuing his ministrations and now thrusting two finger in and out of your sopping core. “She’s been acting like a needy, desperate slut for us, though, so I think we should treat her like one, yeah?” 

Jisung gulps. “We? Minho, I–” 

“You want to fuck her, Sungie? You can fuck her tight cunt, she’ll love it, too. And when you’re done, I’m gonna fuck her harder… I’m gonna fuck her better and fill her up so she knows who her pussy really belongs to.” You moan at his words, squirming around trying to get away from the way his fingers bully into your cunt. 

“Please… Jisung,” you say, looking up at him. “Want you to fuck me, too.” And you truly do. You can see the way your boyfriend is getting off on it, the way that he wants to prove to you that he is better. Somehow you could just tell that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. 

“Yeah, okay. Fuck,” Jisung breaths. 

“Pull down her shirt,” Minho instructs. Jisung immediately follows his directions, as if in a trance, revealing your bare chest to the two men. “Play with her nipples. Pinch them, she likes that.” The feeling of Jisung’s thumbs pinching and pulling harshly against your nipples has you breathless and moaning, because this person touching you wasn’t your boyfriend. It felt so wrong, but with your boyfriend’s attention still on your leaking pussy and his eyes never leaving yours, it felt so right. 

“Fuck, she’s clenching so tight on my fingers,” Minho tells Jisung. “She likes you playing with her, I can feel her getting close.” 

“Yeah?” Jisung stares down and looks at your face, fucked out, and you look at him fucked out out of your mind. Lips parted and eyes glossy, your eyes didn’t leave his. He looked at you with utter adoration, never stopping his motions on your chest. 

“Min, Min… Cumming, fuck,” you breath. Your boyfriend keeps a steady pace, finger fucking you right through your orgasm. As Jisung slows his pace, rubbing slower on your nipples, he pulls off with a harsh tug. 

You sit up, putting your pressure on your arms as you look at Minho who slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt. Revealing his fingers, he shows Jisung how soaked his fingers are. 

“Want to taste her sweet cunt?” Minho asks with a devilish smirk. Jisung nods his head with doe eyes. 

Minho reaches past your body and extends his hand to Jisung, offering the boy his two fingers. You watch as Jisung parts his lips, Minho sliding the appendage inside. You clench your thighs together at the loud slurping and soft whimper that this elicits from his mouth, eyes shut as he tastes your release. Minho’s gaze hardens, watching him with predatory eyes. When he pulls his fingers out from his mouth, a long string of saliva connects his fingers to Jisung’s mouth, dripping down onto your bare chest. The action makes both you and Jisung moan softly. 

Minho stands, maneuvering your body to the position he wants you in. He puts you on your hands and knees on the couch, ass up and hanging over the edge for easy access. He pulls your underwear down around your knees but keeps the skirt on, opting to flip it up over your body instead. You feel used like this, shirt bunched down around your waist and panties not even fully off your body yet. 

“Come fuck her pussy,” Minho says to Jisung. He stands up fast, moving behind you to position himself at your entrance. Here he has a full view of your cunt, still soaked and glistening from your release. He lets out a shaky breath and looks at Minho for permission, who stands over you and looks down at you. You look up at him almost pathetically, giving him a weak smile. He smirks at you, practically cooing as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Go on,” he says, his voice suddenly turning sharp as he addresses Jisung. “I’m not going to tell you twice.” 

You don’t see Jisung pull his pants down but you feel him poke at your entrance, his tip leaking as he rubs it up and down your folds. You rock your hips back, desperate for the pressure, and hiss when he finally enters you. As soon as he does, he stills, breathing heavy behind you. 

“Fuck… so tight,” he says, more to Minho than to you. He gives a cat-like smirk and gestures for the boy to continue. And so Jisung starts, slowly rocking his hips into you. He grinds up against your ass each time, a grip bruising right on your hips. 

Minho sits down on the couch now in front of you. Here he can look right into your eyes, his gaze harsher than you had ever seen before. 

“Look at you getting your slutty pussy fucked by my friend,” he coos. It feels condescending, and you tilt your head down to look toward the couch when you feel his fingers underneath your chin. He pulls you up to meet his eyes, fingers pinching your cheeks to part your mouth open for him. “Do you know how long he’s been waiting to fuck you for? It’s almost pathetic. He’s wanted your sweet cunt for so long but he could never have it, could he?” You shake your head at him, and Jisung whines from behind you, increasing his pace. 

As Jisung goes harder and you start approaching your release, you look up at Minho with tears pricking your eyes. 

“Close?” He coos. You nod your head. “You gonna cum on his cock?” 

“Please,” you grunt out. “Please Minho.” 

“Go ahead, then.” And it's not until Minho brings your face to his in a wet, messy kiss that you finally finish. You moan into his mouth and he drinks it up, his tongue pushing against yours and into your mouth. Jisung becomes more vocal as well, whiny moans and heavy breathing as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Minho pulls you off of his lips harshly, looking at his friend behind you. Jisung looks absolutely wrecked and Minho knows it won’t take long to push him over his edge as well. 

“Is her tight pussy clenching around you good?” He asks. He looks at his friend with a proud smirk. Jisung nods, eyes closed and head thrown back. “As good as you imagined? Wanna tell me how good her pussy feels?” 

“S’good,” he says. “So warm and wet… so tight, fuck…” 

Minho stands, walking over to Jisung. He lifts your skirt higher, revealing your bare ass to Jisung. “Go ahead and paint her ass, if you’re gonna cum,” he tells him. 

And with a few more thrusts and a soft ‘fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he pulls out and covers your ass with him cum. You’re covered in it, as he came a lot, and it starts dripping down your body. Minho scoops some of Jisung’s release with two fingers and brings them to your mouth, your lips automatically parting for him. You lick it off of his fingers, looking at him. You’re floating into a soft subspace and he can see it, utterly and completely submissive for him now. You’re pliant and completely at his command. He looks down at you with dark eyes. 

“My turn,” he says. Him and Jisung switch places, promptly. Jisung stares at you with wide eyes and watches your face, the way that you moan when Minho slips into you easily. 

His pace is brutal from the start, his hips snapping into yours relentlessly, his thighs making a loud wet sound as they slap against the backs of yours. A hand grabs at your hair, yanking you upwards to look at Jisung; he gasps when he sees you, mouth wide open and tears streaming down your face as you let out a sob. It’s too much, the overstimulation, the way Minho’s long cock kisses your cervix at every thrust. And he uses the hand in your hair to control you, pulling you back onto his cock with his strong grip. 

“Fuck…ing… pussy… so… good… for… me…,” Minho enunciates with every snap of his hips. 

You’re babbling at this point, too far gone to form any coherent words. “Min… oh my… fuck,” you say. “Jisung, Sungie…” you cry out at one point, his eyes never leaving yours. Even though he’s no longer participating he still watches intently, his lips parted in a soft ‘o’. 

“What are you calling his name for?” Minho taunts. “I’m the one fucking this cunt, not him. Are you so braindead that you don’t know who’s cock you’re calling out for?” 

“No… Min,” you answer. 

“Good, I’m gonna cum in this greedy pussy,” he says. “Only I can fill you up. Only I can breed your filthy cunt,” he says. “Say… fuck, say my name when you cum on my cock, baby.” 

And you do, because your release comes out of nowhere. With a loud cry you’re calling, no, screaming his name, clenching around him impossibly tight. Your orgasm seems to last forever, and you know he can feel the way you’re spasming around him with every thrust. 

When his hand snakes around and grabs the front of your throat, you know he’s close. His hand squeezes tight and you feel dizzy and light-headed, but this floaty feeling has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 

Minho must be completely gone now, no longer spewing filthy words. He doesn’t say anything as he finally cums inside, grabbing your hips so tight that it’s sure to leave a mark. He stills against you and you can feel his hot release flood you, his cock twitching as he grinds impossibly deeper into your ass, as if he were trying to get his cum as far into you as he can, as if he were trying to mark you as his. 

When he releases his grip on you your body slumps onto the couch. Suddenly you’re weak all over and your body feels limp, vision starting to blur as you look up at Jisung. You notice a large wet stain on his pants, and you realize he must’ve cum again, simply from watching you get fucked within an inch of your life. You let out a soft chuckle and reach for his hand, your fingers weakly intertwining with his and giving him a soft squeeze. 

Arms are scooping you up in an instant, and you open your eyes to see your boyfriend carrying you in his arms, bridal style. 

“I’m going to get her into the bath,” he tells Jisung. 

“Okay. I should… I’m probably going to leave,” he says, voice riddled with uncertainty. 

“You don’t have to,” he replies. You can hear the softness in his tone, the fondness for his best friend coming through in his words. “You don’t have to,” he repeats. 

And though he’s no longer using that domineering tone that had you and Jisung submitting to him in an instant, Jisung still listens to his words. You shoot Jisung a shy smile and wave your fingers at him as you’re carried off into the bathroom. 

Minho is ever the attentive lover, humming as he sits next to you beside the tub. He scrubs your skin gently, rubbing soothing circles into your sore muscles. He pays careful attention when shampooing your hair, making sure not to get any of the soap into your eyes. Your boyfriend Minho is one of the best things that has ever happened to you. He is sweet, kind, forgiving, and so so patient with you. In this moment you’re reminded of that fact, and you feel a twinge of guilt when you’re reminded of the way you acted earlier. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. It’s the first words you’ve spoken since after you had sex. They’re barely loud enough to hear, but you know your words haven’t fallen upon deaf ears when he lets out a soft sigh. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, love,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for dragging out your punishment for too long. I know you were trying to rile me up and get on my nerves… and it worked. Not for the reason that I thought though. I thought that… I thought that Jisung touching you would make me mad, but the more I thought about it… fuck, the thought of sharing with him what’s mine, to show him ‘this is my beautiful girlfriend that makes me feel so good…’ It was so hot, baby. And I wanted him to touch you. I wanted him to make you feel good, too. He looked so fucked out, and I liked that it was us that made him feel like that, y’know?” 

You smile softly at him. “Min, can I ask you a question?” 

He hums in response. 

“Do you… have feelings for him?” He doesn’t meet your eye, and that’s all the answer that you need. You know that outloud, at least right now, he could never truly admit it, but he didn’t have to. “It’s okay,” you reassure. “Nobody’s faulting you if you do. We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” 

Minho wraps you in a towel and dries your skin. His eyes are full of adoration for you. Before you walk into your bedroom, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. 

That night, the three of you fall asleep in your bed. There’s no discussion to be had about how this complicates your relationship. There’s no words exchanged, there’s no awkward eye contact, and there are no bad thoughts that cloud your mind as you drift to sleep. You listen to Jisung’s soft snoring and the pitter patter of Minho’s heartbeat. You fall asleep warm, intertwined with many limbs, and with a soft smile on your face.  *** Part 2/4 of the threesome series ;) Hope y'all enjoyed Masterlist Recs

Taglist: @lolareadsimagines / let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

[fuckmymunson]

eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.

eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹

💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!

🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌

“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.

“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.

But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.

“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.

“I lost it” He repeated.

“You lost what?”

“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.

“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.

“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.

Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.

“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.

“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.

“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”

“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”

“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.

Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.

The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.

That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.

That was your Eddie.

Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.

“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[scarlethexelove]

Hii, can you write Jock! Intersex!Carol x virgin (and innocent about sex) reader where they are dating but reader is stressed to do it with Carol because of Carol's past reputation on campus, so the reader thinks that she will be directly rought but when Carol starts touching reader to initiate sex, reader told Carol that she's virgin, and Carol becomes soft and take her time with the reader to not hurt her too much, even if the reader will feel pain during the first penetration (including Carol who doesn't want to wear condoms so reader asks her why and Carol says that she hates it and that condoms kill the feeling of the walls, unprotected sex, breeding, Carol calls reader babygirl/princess )

I'm Ready

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 2752

Warnings: Intersex!Carol, Smut, P in V, Virgin!Reader, Fingering, Oral, Breeding, Soft!Carol, Little bit of degradation, Little bit of a Daddy kink (Said once)

A/n: I'm so sorry I didn't add much of the Jock part but it is mentioned a little. My brain is mush and I'm having a hard time thinking of what warnings there are. Please if I forgot something really important let me know. Hope you like it and sorry it has taken me a bit to get to this. I have been so busy and then got sick.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You turn to walk backwards behind in front of your best friend Wanda. “I think I’m ready.” You tell Wanda her face is puzzled at your words. “Ready for what?” She asks you. You slightly blush at the thought. “I want to have sex with Carol.” You say just above a whisper. “You want to have sex!” Wanda says loudly. “Wanda.” You whine with how loud she was. You look around to see people looking at you making you look down in shame. “I’m sorry Y/n/n. I was just shocked. Are you sure?” She says softly and you nod. Both of you stop walking to talk. “I’m ready. I want it to be with Carol… I think I love her.” You say shyly. 

Wanda can’t help but slap your shoulder excited. “You love her? Oh my god. I’m so excited for you.” Her words make you smile. “Thanks Wanda.” You hug her before pulling back, keeping your arms around her. “You know I will admit that I was hesitant on you dating Carol because of her reputation but I have seen the change in her and in you.” Wanda smiles, hugging you again. 

“You can invite Natty over tonight. I’ll be at Carol’s tonight.” You wink at Wanda. She shoves you as she starts to walk away. “Just don’t have sex in my bed.” You laughed and Wanda winked which caused both of you to burst out laughing. 

You find yourself sitting on Carol’s couch cuddled into her side as you two watch a movie. You keep sneaking glances at Carol which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She can’t help but smirk. The next time your head turns to look at her she is already looking right at you. Taking your breath away as the light from the tv illuminates her face. “Do I have something on my face baby girl?” She smirks knowingly at you. “N-no.” You mumbler looking down. Your nerves are eating away at you. A finger slips under your chin, bringing you to look back up into her brown eyes. She leans in kissing you soft and slow. 

It takes no time as the kiss deepens and you both become more desperate for each other. You shift your body over into Carol’s lap as her hands grip your hips and your arms wrap around her neck. Her tongue exploring your mouth and a small moan being swallowed by Carol. You can feel her length hardening under you pressing up against your core. When your lungs start to burn you both pull away. Carol starts to kiss down your neck. You’re panting above her as her fingers dig into your hips, grinding up into you. “C-Carol.” You try to get her attention. She keeps kissing and leaving dark reddish purple marks on your neck. “Carol, w-wait.” You mumble out again, but all she does is hum against your neck. “Stop.” You finally manage to say. Carol immediately pulls back looking at you concerned.

“Is everything ok princess?” Carol asks you concerned, her hands cupping your cheeks as she looks at you. “I-I’ve never.” You mumble. “You’ve never what?” Carol questions not quite following along. “I’m a virgin.” You whisper looking down ashamed. It’s silent for a moment. “Y/n/n.” Carol says softly, but you don’t respond. “Princess please look at me.” Your eyes finally drifting back up to your girlfriend's face. Her smile is soft as she looks at you. “Do you want to stop?” She asks you which has you shaking your head. “I want to do this.” She smiles at you. “Are you sure?” Carol questions again not wanting to push you. “Yes.” You nod your head. 

Carol picks you up which causes you to squeak, wrapping your legs around her waist and your arms tightly around her neck. She carries you to her bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed. For someone so experienced and larger than you you expect her to be a bit more rough and uncaring. But she is a total contrast to every word you have ever heard about Carol from other girls' mouths. Always the big jock on campus who could pull any girl she wanted. She is a badass on and off the court. But you have seen a different side than the rumors. Carol is sweet and caring, she has never pressured you for anything. You’ve been together for 3 months now and she hasn’t once asked for sex when you know with others that is all she wanted. 

Carol leans back on her calves as she looks down at you sprawled out on her bed. She pulls her shirt over her head leaving her just her sports bra on. She reveals her beautiful sculpted abs and toned arms. You’re pretty sure you're drooling just looking at her.  She gives you a wink which makes you blush before she is shuffling her basketball shorts off. Her toned thighs are only covered now by the boxers she is wearing, her large bulge confined by the fabric. 

Carol leans down kissing you softly just hovering over you. “If at any time you want to stop, just tell me okay?” You nod your head in understanding. “Baby girl, I need your words.” Carol smiles reassuringly at you. “Yes I understand.” She smiles, pecking your lips. Carol’s hands move to the hem of your shirt and stop looking at you for permission. You nod with a small yes. You sit up helping her with taking your shirt off. Soon your bra follows being thrown somewhere in the room to be found later. You help Carol to finish stripping your clothes leaving you completely naked. You try to cover your body but Carol pulls your hands away. “You’re so beautiful princess, don't hide from me.”

You pull Carol down kissing her which she gladly accepts. She pulls away starting to kiss down your neck nipping and sucking as she travels down. Your breathing picks up the further she kisses down your body. Soft kisses trailing down your stomach down to your thighs. Settling herself there as she looks up at you with a lustful look in her eyes. Your breath hitching as you look at her nestled between your thighs. 

A breath of hot air hits your wet folds as Carol releases a breath sending a shiver up your spine. Your naked body in front of her for the taking. The desire to take and claim you running through her mind. But she holds back only caring for your comfort. Your first time should be special and she wanted to make it the best. She knows she loves you but it does scare her because she has never felt like this for anyone. She only sleeps around and not falls in love but you caught her heart and she wanted nothing but the best for you. 

Carol licks a strip through your folds moaning at your taste. You gasp at the new feeling, so different but so good. She circles her tongue around your clit before wrapping her lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. She sucks harshly which causes you to moan, your hand flying to her hair and lacing your fingers through her hair. You can feel her smirk against you as she continues to work over your clit. 

Breathy moans escaping your lips as Carol continues to lick and suck. One of her hands trailing up your body as she cups your breast and tweaks your nipple. Her other hand moving between your legs. Your wetness coating her finger as she teases your entrance. She slowly probes her finger at your entrance before slowly pushing one in. Your gasping as your grip on her hair tightens. She slowly pumps it in and out. Working on stretching you out to take her cock, not wanting to hurt you. She slowly adds a second finger, the stretch foreign with very little sting. “Mmm.” A tight grip on her hair as she lets you get used to the feeling. 

You have never felt like this before the pleasure building in your lower stomach as Carol brings you closer to the edge. Her tongue working your bundle of nerves and her fingers thrusting in and out of you, her fingers curling up and pressing into the sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans filling the room as Carol laps at your cunt. “Please.” You whimper as you feel so close to the edge. “I-I think I need to. Mmm fuck.” Your walls clamp down on Carol's fingers as she lightly scissors them inside of you. “A-Ahhh.” The extra stretch is slightly painful but still building you towards your high. “Cum baby girl.” Carol moans against your core, sending you over the edge. Your back arching as your thighs clamp around her head and your fingers tighten their grip. The sting in her scalp caused her to moan. Your cum coating her lower face as she laps at your folds. 

Carol works you through your high her tongue lapping at all the cum you could give her. As she slows down you come back to your senses, your chest heaving. “You did so good princess.” Carol smiles as she pulls back. Your juices coating the lower half of her face which has you blushing. You cover your face with your hands. You feel the bed shift before your hands are pulled from your face. She smiles, leaning down and kissing you roughly. You moan into her mouth when you taste yourself on her lips. This kiss is much more desperate, almost needy. You can feel her hardened length still in their confines pressing against your core. 

A whine escapes your lips the longer you feel Carol’s length pressed against you. “Please.” You mumble against her lips. She pulls back looking you in the eye as she hovers over your body. She smiles at you leaning back as she pulls her sports bra and boxers off her cock springing free as she kicks them off her feet. You lick your lips when you see her cock springs free. She leans back over you and kisses you gently leaning her head against yours. “Baby girl it’s going to hurt at first but it will feel good eventually. If it becomes too much, tell me and we will stop.” She tells you gently her length rubbing through your drenched folds. “I’m ready.” You nod.

Carol lines her length up with your entrance, the head catching lightly as she coats it in your juices. “Carol, what about a condom?” You question as she slowly pushes the head in. You grunt and hold onto her shoulders the sting and fullness just from that little bit already overwhelming. She shakes her head. “It takes away from the feeling. I hate them.” She pushes in more. “F-fuck you feel so good.” You dig your nails into the skin of her shoulders the more she pushes in. “I’ll pull out, I promise princess.” Carol says which has you nodding a tear slipping down your cheek from the painful stretch. 

You can feel the head of Carol’s cock on every ridge of your walls. Her cock slowly fills you full until she has sheathed herself inside of you. As a few tears fall she wipes them gently from your cheeks and kisses you softly, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to move. Your stretched walls feeling every vein and ridge of her cock. The pain slowly dissipates to something more manageable. You wrap your legs around Carol’s hips and grind lightly gasping at the feeling. Carol smirks slowly pulling back before lightly thrusting back in. She keeps a slow pace, her walls still stretching around her cock. 

Small moans fall from your lips as your walls get used to the feeling of being stretched. Carol snaps her hips a little too hard when she thrust which has you whimpering. “Sorry baby girl, so sorry.” She moans. “You just feel so good. So fucking tight.” All you can manage is a nod, words hard to form. Carol slowly builds her thrust up to a nice steady pace. The pain melts into pleasure. 

“Fuck so good for me. This pussy was made for me princess. Wraps around me so perfectly.” Carol grunts the gentle slapping of her hips against yours. Your hips bucking on their own accord the new found pleasure intoxicating to you. “S-so good.” Carol’s head pressed against yours as she continued thrusting. Her eyes fixed on yours watching your face morphing into one of pleasure. Your hands slipping to her back and digging your nails in. She moans at the sting as her hips speed up more. There is still pain mixed with pleasure as she pounds into you. A new feeling you never want to stop. 

Both of your orgasms are building. Carol angles her hips to where the head of her cock brushes against that spot deep inside of you, having you moaning loudly, closing your eyes and dragging your nails down her back. “O-ohhhh.” Your back arching closer as you feel Carol’s chest against yours. Your hurtling towards your second orgasm as your walls flutter around Carol’s length. “Fuck princess your squeezing me so good.” Carol pants above you, her cock twitching as she gets close.

“I’m going to fill this pussy so good. Fucking fill you so full of my seed. Maybe just get your pregnant so you're mine forever.” Carol grunts with every thrust. Your mind turns to mush as you nod along to the words falling from her lips. “Please Daddy.” Your nails are digging deeper into her back, drawing some blood. Not even noticing the words that slip from your mouth. Carol smirks her hips rutting into yours. 

Carol’s hand slips between your bodies reaching your clit and pressing her finger into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. With the added pressure on your clit you're so close. “Please s-so close.” You whine desperate to cum again. Carol is right there with you. “Cum with me princess.” Carol moans as she thrust a few more times before her hips stutter. Your walls squeezing her length so tight as you cum. Your nails scratching more at her back, your back arching impossibly closer to her. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body trembles below her. Carol feeling you cum follows not that far behind you filling you full as her hips twitch. 

You're both panting as you both come down from your high. Your eyes open to see Carol’s wide slightly panicked eyes. Your eyes widening when you realize why her eyes are so wide as you feel her cum dribbling out around her cock. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n. I got carried away a-and you felt so good.” Deep down she actually hoped that maybe you would get pregnant from this but knows that you might not be ready for that. You're quiet for a moment processing what just happened. “I-it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You try to reassure her still being panicked since you aren’t on any birth control. 

Carol pulls out of you slowly as you wince feeling a bit sore. “Sorry princess.” Carol says seeing you wince in pain. She gets up quickly going to the bathroom and getting a washcloth to clean you both off. She comes back before gently cleaning you up before she wipes herself off. She throws the washcloth on the floor to clean up later before crawling into bed. You instantly move to curl up into her side, laying your head on her chest. She wraps her arms around you tightly. 

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Carol breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. You look up at her with your chin on her chest and a small smile on your face. “It’s okay. It felt really good actually.” You blush, hiding your face in her chest which makes her laugh. “I love you.” Carol chuckles until she realizes what she said. You lift your head to look up at her with a smile on your face. “I love you too Carol.” You lean up to kiss her, both of you smiling into the kiss. You pull back, settling back into her arms as you draw patterns on her chest. Both of you are happy to be in each other's arms and in love.

[oval3000]

Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader

part 2

Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.

Part 1

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Everything was dark. There was no light going through. No daylight, no artificial light in the house. Everything was sitting still with silence. The curtains were now a shade of blue as some of the walls from the moon shone through.

No one here, no one around to hear. The big luxurious house sits alone in a fancy community. Not gate, Miguel hates gated communities. Having to deal with the guy a front, he hates. However, with a fancy home comes a community where each house is isolated with big gardens, separate garages, Big beautiful trees all around the green yards, and piles of roses making plain bushes look pretty.

The bedroom was closed shut. Clothes are on the floor. The outfit that you picked out for the third date was now all over the bedroom, hardwood floors.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of wet skin squelching, You sat on your back on Miguel's torso with his legs and your legs spread wide open. Your head was resting near his shoulder as one of your hands was holding onto his neck while the other was clutching the bedsheets beneath you. Your eyes were blindfolded with one of his black ties.

This is the second time he has pleasured you. The second time the both of you are naked, making love while some call just straight-up porn. Miguel wanted to play with you. He wanted to play with something that was his.

His middle finger and ring finger were so deep inside you, rubbing your walls with his fingertips. He wanted so deep that he wanted to break off his fingers. He was so drunk with your pussy, he wanted to dive in and destroy it.

After the romantic date, that he planned and did, ended, he brought you back home. He didn't tell you that he wanted to have sex with you. He didn't give you any type of warning that he wanted to rip off your clothes. The second you guys went was spent ended with watching a movie and sleeping while cuddling. Now here you are after the third date, laying there with your legs spread open while he was fucking your pussy with his long, thick fingers. He's so big and fit that you forgot how much it came to pleasure above all and beyond.

Your moans were so turning him on, it was making him even more horny. He was so horny. After the date, you went to the bedroom and started to change into your pj's when he came from behind wrapped his tie around your eyes, and blindfolded you.

He told you that he wanted to take care of you and make you feel good like he did before. You got him addicted to this.

"You're so warm, cariño." he felt his fingers getting wet with how much he was playing with your pussy. "You like my fingers, don't you. Is this pussy mine, baby?"

He watched as you squirm with his touch inside you. "Y-yes!~...Ahh!...oh~....."

"Yes, what." He stopped moving his fingers.

"Yes! Daddy!...Ah! This pussy is yours!`...Oh.." You moaned out. He didn't pump his finger, he was just playing with your insides which made you act crazy. He moved again. The teasing made you feel more hot.

"I want you to gush on my fingers, reina. I want you to cum. Cum for me baby." He moved his fingers faster than before. The sound of your pussy getting slapped around made him roll his eyes back.

"Ahh! Oh.....Miguel!" You screamed feeling a wave coming through. Squirting all over his fingers, coating them, and drenching them with your juices. He took his fingers out and gave a few flicks on your clit which made you spray even more, "Ah!Ah~"

"Que chula es mi reina." He gave you a kiss on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing you could only feel him shift and move around.

You felt your back on the bed and his presence on top of you. He went under your wet pussy, feeling his hot breath near. He kissed your thighs and moaned, making it vibrate. "I want to taste you, mi amor."

Your hands were gripping on the bedsheets as went in a started to suck your clit with his mouth. You felt the vibration going through with the moan he let out.

His touch was everything. He made you so high that you couldn't remember anything. You couldn't even remember your name. The only name you were moaning out was, "Miguel~...Miguel!~...Ohhh~ Miguel!!"

That night, he fucked you. He came inside you so many times that you felt so bloated with his seemed. He pleasured you so many times that it made you forget. His pleasure made you forget.

You were honestly grateful that you listened to your ob-gyn a couple years ago about birth control. You never planned on having sex, you just wanted to fix your period pain. Even though the IUD was a freaking pain to be inserted that you felt like dying, you never knew that it would come in handy.

As days went by, his lawyers came to the house and discussed more of the marriage license. He told them that you were ready to sign. When you told him that it's a bit early for you to get married, he quickly snapped at you.

Now that the paper was in front of you and the pen was in your hand, you realized how real this was. How everything was. You'll be married to this man. You'll now be Mrs. O'hara.

His lawyers were talking to him about the more paperwork that you'll be doing since you have to change your last name. You stared at the paper trying to read it, but the only thing you could see was the blurriness and your heartbeat taking over your brain.

"What's wrong, mi amor."Miguel placed his hand on your back. You stared at him and saw his face. The man that you'll wake to for the rest of your life.

You remembered the night you told him that you weren't ready. He screamed at you. "N-nothing." You wrote your signature on the dotted line.

Paperwork after paperwork, you are finally married to Miguel O'Hara. The lawyers and a private judge, who's one of Miguel's friends, congratulated Miguel and left. "What's the matter, mi amor. You're so quiet."

"I just didn't plan to be married right away. I thought I was." You looked at him and images of him grabbing you and dragging you to the bedroom, yelling at you that you will marry him no matter what. His pleasures make you forget." Nothing, I...I'm happy."

"Are you still not sure about the marriage." He got closer to you. "Because if you aren't sure."

"No!..N-no I am sure! I'm happy." You said to him.

His mouth turned to a smile. "Good! how about we go to the bedroom and have a moment as newlyweds." He kissed your neck. "We could start having a little bundle of joy." He placed his hand on your stomach.

"I think we should wait first. We just got married and we should enjoy ourselves before-" You couldn't finish your sentence.

His red crimson eyes stared at you, "You don't want kids? Because if you don't want kids," he held your waist a little too tight, "then."

"I-I do!" You whinced at how hard he was gripping your waist. "I just thought-"

"You thought wrong. We're going to have kids and we are ready for it. Trust me, once we get a little ñiño or ñiña then you will see that you've always been ready." He grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the bedroom.

Tell him about the birth control! You heard a voice in your head. Don't tell him! You should bear his child! You shouldn't! He gave you everything! You should still enjoy your life first! You're his wife! Kids can be a handful! You're being ungrateful! You deserve better!

His pleasure made you forget.

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"I made an appointment to check our fertility." Miguel tossed his phone on the couch and sat next to you. "We have it tomorrow, early morning, okay."

It's been five months since the both of you have been trying. You were shocked that the birth control was holding on strong.

Every night, he would fuck you deep inside. Sometimes he would fuck you rough. On other nights, he would fuck you gently. There are times when you would go to sleep early to avoid it, but then you'll feel him on top of you, fucking you.

You eventually told him that you might get pregnant if you guys take it slow and don't spend all night in bed naked. You told him that your body needed to rest maybe that's why you couldn't get pregnant.

Your heart was racing. You were panicking. You couldn't shed a night's sleep at all.

When you felt the sun shining through, you felt your stomach getting heavy. You had to use the bathroom to relieve yourself of how nervous you were. You felt so nauseous that your legs couldn't start jiggling up and down.

You heard him waking up, so you quickly cleaned yourself up and got ready for the day.

He put on a casual blue shirt and some jeans. You tried to urge him to not miss work, but he replied by saying that he's the boss and that missing a day won't harm him or the company. You looked at the clock as the time was getting close for the appointment.

Just tell him! Maybe he'll understand! you thought to yourself. You lied to him. You have been lying to him for five months. "Let's go." He got up from the armchair and headed downstairs.

You followed him from behind. Your cuticles were starting to bleed with how much you were picking on them. "Wait, Miguel."

He turned around, "What?"

"We can't go." You said. He stood in front of you. He was so tall and broad that it started to frighten you. "There's nothing wrong with us."

"What do you mean?" He asked. You shook your head. Why are you so scared? Stop being scared? You told yourself. Your eyes were getting watery. "(Y/N)?"

You looked at him, "I'm......I'm on birth control." You looked at his face and saw how angry he got.

His face was no longer the usual face he made. His eyes were darting right at yours."What!"

"I've been on birth control for two years now. I got it when I first turned 18. I'm sorry. I should've told you, I'm sorry." You explained to him.

"If you were on birth control then why didn't you tell me!" He yelled at you.

"I don't want to have kids now. I'm not ready. Miguel please," You cried to him. "Migue-"

"Pills or inserted?" He asked. "Answer me!"

"It's an IUD." You replied.

He took your hand and pulled you towards the front door. "They'll take it out."

"Wait! Miguel! I'm not ready! Please! Please don't do this to me!" You sobbed to him, trying to get free from his grip. You pulled your body away from him but his strength was easily overpowering yours.

He turned to you and grabbed your face. "No! You don't get to do this to me! You've been lying to me! This entire time I thought that we couldn't have kids, but now you're telling me that you are on birth control!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried out.

"I don't want to hurt you. I really don't want to hurt you." He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

"Please don't hurt me! I'm so sorry!" You felt his grip so tight on you.

"Your privileges are over. You're no longer going outside. You no longer have access online. We're going to get that thing remove and once it's done, I'm going to fuck you day and night. I don't care about your pleas. I don't care what you say, I'm going to put babies inside you." He dragged you back to the bedroom and threw you on the bed.

He called the doctor and told him that the visit was now going to be a home visit. The doctor came in and removed the IUD from your body. When the doctor left, Miguel went in and did what he told you.

The only difference was that he wasn't gentle. He wasn't calling you sweet names like he did. Instead, his wordplay was more...degrading. Calling you a bitch or a slut.

Every day, he'll fuck you. Any chance, he'll bend you over; whether it was the kitchen counter, the bedroom, or even the bathroom, he'll bend you over and fuck you.

One night, he was rougher than ever. He was fucking you deep and hard. He was making you tear up. "Ah!...Mhmm~ Ngh!...Fucking bitch! take my fucking cock! Fucking whore!" He thrust in and out.

He pressed your head on the pillow with your ass up in the air, "Ah!...I- Fuck! I'm going to put a baby in there! fuck~" He will slap your ass and continue to fuck you ignoring your sobs to tell him to stop.

That morning, he was gone when you woke up. You went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. You felt the water running down your body. You sat on the floor and cried your feelings out.

When he came home, he opened the bedroom door and started to undress himself. You lay on the bed, hearing his belt buckle hitting the floor. You were staring away from him, covering yourself in blankets. You covered your face, letting out a cry. "Please." You sat up and stared at him with desperation. "Please. You're hurting me."

"I'm doing what's best for us." He said.

You sobbed. You cried and cried. "You're not seeing what you're doing to me! You're hurting me! You said that you'll love me! You said that you won't hurt me!" He got on the bed and got closer to you. "No. No...NO! NO! STOP! STOP! NO! NO!" you kicked and pushed until you felt your hand slapping him across his face. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

You ran to the bathroom and closed the door. You locked the door and ran to the tub. You got in and curled yourself into a ball. You could hear his knocks and calls out for you.

"I-I'm sorry baby. Please open the door. I didn't mean to hurt you." He said it in a concerned tone. He never meant to hurt you. He didn't. He never realized what he had done. "Carño..Por…porfavor… I want to see you, please. I need to know that you're okay. Mi amor." He wanted you to hit him back to get back at him for not realizing how much damage he had caused you. That was never his intention. He never wanted you to be scared of him. The way you looked at him, the screams you made It sounded and looked like you were going to be killed. It was a wake-up call to Miguel, to finally get some sense and see what he had done. "I'll let you do whatever you want. If you want to go outside, I'll take you. I'll take you wherever you want to go. If you want to hit me, then hit me and punch me. I just want to see you. Porfavor! Carñino! Abra la puerta."

You never answered him back. You stayed in the bathroom for hours and hours. Eventually, those hours turned into days.

Miguel, every day, kept talking to you and telling you to open the door, but there was nothing. He was getting worried. The only response he got from you was when he saw that the food he left out was eaten, so at least he knows that you're still alive. He would leave out a blanket, pillows, and some fresh new clothes so you could at least be comfortable. He doesn't know if you are ever going to forgive him and he doesn't blame you.

At work, he hardly concentrated because all of his thoughts were of you. When he comes home from work, he'll stare at the door contemplating if he should knock the door down or wait until you are ready.

"Mi amor," he said softly. "Perdoname…Perdoname…Porfavor." he sat down on the floor near the door. "I won't force you. I won't do those things to you. Please, open the door. If you don't want to have kids now, then I'll wait till you're ready. I was so eager to start a family that I didn't think about how you'd feel. I'm sorry." he rested his head on the door. "I'm sorry for not listening to you," he closed his eyes, feeling guilty for all the things he had until he remembered the other little things he committed. The murder of your mother. Does he feel guilty for that? Not really.

"You won't hurt me?" You finally said, softly.

He opened his eyes wide open. "Mi Amor? No. I won't hurt you, I promise. I promise baby. I swear to you. I swear to everything that I won't hurt you ever again. Let me in, please." He heard the door unlock and moved his body to turn towards it. When he saw the door open, he finally saw you and you saw him on his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head on your stomach. "I love you. I love you. I love you. Te amo, mi amor. Te amo mucho. I'll never hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. Not you. I'll do anything you want me to do, but please forgive me. I can't live without you. I can't live without you. I can't. I can't. I refuse to live without you. I love you so fucking much. Mi Vida. Mi Sol. Mi Cielo. Eres todo para mi. I don't care if the world ends as long as I'm with you, I'll be the happiest man alive. Mi Princesa. Mi Reina. Mi Amor." He kissed your stomach, your hands, your arms, your legs, he trailed his way up to you and cupped your cheeks. "I love you so much, I'll burn this planet down so it can just be the two of us."

"You really hurt me, Miguel." You said to him.

"I know. I know, princess. I hurt you so much and you didn't deserve it. The things I'd done to you. The things I've said. If I ever even dare to say any of those things to you again, kill me. Shoot me in the head. I'd rather be dead than hurt you ever again. I love you." He pulled you into a hug, feeling you in his arms. "I love you, Mi amor."

You felt his warmth once again. His touch. His gentle touch. "I love you too."

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The cold was settling in. The snow was covering the roads and sidewalks. Kids are out building snowmen and angels. Christmas lights are out and colorful shining through the city.

The local church with many kids and parents getting hot cocoa, warm blankets, and jackets. Helpers handing out gifts to kids. Light Christmas music playing on the speakers.

You rubbed your hands together to get a bit of warmth. "Mi amor, I told you to bring your mittens, you're gonna get cold." You turned to Miguel who was getting a pair of mittens from his dark brown coat. "Here," He took your hands and put on the warm mittens. Your warm mittens. "Mi vida." He placed a kiss on your forehead.

He went back to hand parents hot cocoa or tea and kids some presents. Many kids were surrounding him as they thanked him. They were talking to him about how cool the gifts were. He gave their parents, who didn't have a car, a gift box with their new car keys inside. He gave single moms a free two-day spa ticket they could use alongside a professional babysitter's phone number, who could watch their kids free of charge. Of course, Miguel is the one paying for all of this. A true hero for the people.

You handed out bags of candy to kids and saw how big their smiles grew. Family taking pictures with a Christmas tree behind them. You never had a true Christmas day. The first year you spent with Miguel in the house and your mom, Miguel was in his office all day while your mother was partying it out. You remember when Miguel knocked on your bedroom door and gave you a diamond necklace, matching bracelet, and earrings. The second time was just you and him. He gave you a gorgeous dress ( that matches your style perfectly). And now here you are, giving presents to the people in need. Looks like there were signs all along.

When the night ended, the both of you went home. Miguel told you about the New Year's Eve party at the company. You couldn't pay attention because all you could think of was the faces those kids made. The way they were so happy about the littlest things. The way Miguel was so gentle with them. The way they all played with each other.

The New Year's Eve party was nice with all the scientists and workers gathering together and talking about their latest project. Everyone was talking to Miguel about his work and the intervention of how far everything has gone with science and technology. Miguel introduced you to everyone as his wife. The fact that you felt yourself blush over that was something.

He kept you close to him and always held your hand everywhere you both went. Even if he wasn't there, the two guards are there to protect you. Miguel then gave a speech to everyone as a thank you for their hard work and dedication for their long hours of using their knowledge to further enhance the evolution of people's health.

The car ride was comfortable as you listened to music that felt nostalgic. Miguel blasted the radio, placing his hand on your thigh the entire ride back home.

"It's so freaking cold outside, but I tried to warn them about this." He took off his pants and shirt. "We're busting our asses to maintain a functional solution for this polluted crisis." He put on some gray sweats and a plain white t-shirt. "Shortly, all of this will be over, and we'll have normal winters and easy summers." He walked over to the bed and saw you sitting in your chair with your vanity spaced out. "Are you okay, mi amor?"

You snapped from your thoughts and looked at him. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Is everything alright? You spaced out. I know science can be boring and can make people drive off." He continued to talk, removing the pillow to lift up the blanket.

"I think I'm ready." You told him. Miguel stopped what he was saying and what he was doing. He stared at you with his mouth hung open. "I want a baby."

It was cold. The air was making things freeze outside. The cold roads were turning into ice, making it slippery.

The only thing that was making everything warm was the body heat you both were creating.

Miguel was sitting on the armchair with his legs spread open. He had his hands on your back, holding you tightly. His face was buried into your chest, kissing it, leaving hickeys all over. He lifted you up and down so gently and sensual. He ran his hands all over your body as you are on top of him, pussy deep into his cock.

You moaned out the pleasure of his cock hitting your cervix making your head tilt back. He lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He, gently, placed you on the bed and continued to thrust into you. He placed his hands on yours and intervened his fingers with yours holding each other's hands. He kissed you so passionately and deep it made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

He lowered his body closer to yours rested his head on your neck and picked up the pace with his thrust. Your hands were on his back feeling his cock drilling you in and out. His moans and grunts entered into your ear and were mixed with your orgasms. His soft moans turned into words that made you feel good. "I~ I love you...Ah!~...I love you, mi amor."

He made love to you. He made you remember.

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The crisp, orange leaves fell down and landed on the green yards all over. People put their carved pumpkins out on their porches. Horror films are being played on TV. Halloween decorations are being put everywhere. Spooky music fills the air through the loudspeakers. The fresh air hit your face as you ate all the pretzal bites you bought. Your two guards were holding two cups of pigs in a blanket and more pretzel bites while walking aside from you.

you threw the now empty cup into the trash bin and entered the store. You looked through and found all the cute things that made you smile.

You ate the rest of the pretzal bites on the way back home. You placed the shopping bags on the couch and went towards the kitchen. You saw the chef that was making the food. You were now his taste tester, but were just hungry.

You heard the front door open and close and saw Miguel coming in. He walked up to you and kissed you on the lips. His hand made its way to your stomach and gave it a little rub. "How was little one today."

"He wanted pretzal bites." Miguel bent down and gave a kiss on your swollen belly. "I think we're gonna need to buy a pretzel place."

He chuckled, "He's gonna be just like you. How was shopping?"

"Good. I bought this cute onsie and a tiny little binnie. I know he's gonna grow out of it fast, but they were so cute." You explained and showed it to him.

That night, you woke up in pain. You looked at the clock and saw it was two in the morning. "You're going to be trouble to put to sleep, aren't you?" You whispered while rubbing your belly; the pain was getting worse. You took deep breaths while feeling the contraction. You got up and moved to be more comfortable. Another wave of contraction came in closer when, all of a sudden, you felt a big wave of water running down your legs. "Miguel!"

He quickly woke up, "What's wrong?" He got up from the bed and saw you in excruciating pain.

"My water just broke."

The ride was fast and safe. Miguel timed the contractions and told you to take deep breaths.

The labor itself was painful, but you were just happy to finally meet your baby. Miguel was right by your side during everything. He let you hold his hand while you squeezed it. Miguel demanded that you have the baby on your knees so gravity can help you out and it did.

When you heard the baby cry you cried with joy.

After the after-birth, you lay back down on the bed as the nurses placed the baby on your chest. He was an exact copy of Miguel.

"What should we name him?" He asked.

"How about Gabriel."

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Miguel came home from work and saw you breastfeeding your son. It's been a month since you came back home with your newborn son. Miguel has been more helpful than ever. He stayed up at night to feed his son so you can have your rest. He would change his diaper instead of asking you. "Mi amor, I've been thinking about hiring a professional nanny to come and help while I'm at work." He told you.

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Por su puesto, mi amor. It'll be nice for someone to come in and help while I'm not here." He said to you, taking the baby from your arms, and cradling it. "I've found a professional nanny who also has a degree in nursing. She worked in healthcare at the children's department and also in childcare for 20 years. Of course, you'll meet her as well and determine whether or not she's fit for it, I just thought it would be good to get a little help. Besides," He kissed the baby's head while rocking him, "we plan on having more, right?"

You met the nanny, who was professional and caring. She already had kids of her own and is now a proud new grandma. You gave her all holidays and weekends off. You also made sure that Miguel gave her a holiday bonus and benefits for herself and her family. She helped you whenever you needed it.

This was your life now.

Miguel's dream came true. He got the woman he loves and a family. He'll make sure that nothing will ever take that away from him.

[therainscene]

I've described myself in the past as "overly-queerbaited" as a way of explaining why it took me so long to come around to Byler endgame as a legitimate possibility... but that's kind of a misleading way of putting it.

Truth is, I've always been too much of a cynical fuck to fall for queerbait... or any other story that promises positive queer rep.

[Sherlock couldn't touch me; I saw this cringe homophobia coming from a mile away. Fans mistaking straight anxiety jokes for meaningful gay subtext was clearly doomed to end in mockery. Nobody deserved to be treated like that... but god, it was easy to predict.]

I think it's a symptom of having grown up under Section 28 -- feeling like I'm being unreasonable for wanting to see queerness normalized is such an ingrained habit that even today I instinctively recoil like a vampire touching sunlight whenever an optimistic queer story falls unrequested into my lap.

But I'm hardly alone in feeling this way -- many queer Millennial and Gen-X fans of Stranger Things are against the idea of Byler because it would ruin the catharsis of watching the gay boy growing up in the same era as we did slowly succumb to the same despair that we did.

[For those who haven't played the VR game: Vecna is speaking in this screenshot.]

There's genuine comfort to be found in painful stories -- this type of catharsis is practically the cornerstone of horror as a genre -- so I can't really fault myself or anyone else for wanting it, despite the obnoxious oversaturation of disappointing queer endings in media.

This is the nostalgia show, after all -- and like it or not, for many middle-aged queers in the target audience, nostalgia is shot through with the pain of homophobia and loneliness.

But do you know who else is a hurt queer(-coded) adult who resents happy endings? This cynical fuck:

Henry personifies despair and loneliness and the dark urge to take our pain out on others -- and when Will is in the picture, I would argue that he also represents internalized homophobia.

Will might represent who we were -- but Henry represents who we've let ourselves turn into.

And I don't think many of us want to admit to that, because that would involve questioning why we have so much in common with the literal villain of the show; why we're still so consumed with self-pity after 20+ years that we're obsessing over the fate of some kid.

I'm not suggesting that wanting a less-than-fairytale ending for a fictional gay boy is equivalent to being a child killer lol. It's perfectly valid to want to see your pain acknowledged, and stories which appeal to that desire deserve to exist.

But between Henry's connection to Will and the cycle of abuse themes of the show, it's clear that this particular story simply isn't about wallowing in the bleakness of growing up gay in the 80s, but about self-actualizing in spite of it all.

So I just can't bring myself to want a "relatable" ending for Will.

As much as I struggle to enjoy positive queer rep, I don't want to be so cynical. I'd thrown up so many walls to protect myself as a teenager that I forgot how desperately I wanted to see just one of those painful queer stories end on the same uplifting note that straight stories were always entitled to: with true love overcoming the odds, saving the day, and living happily ever after.

[But I'm A Cheerleader, a surprisingly fun movie about conversion therapy, is proof that stories like this did exist when I was a teen... but finding them in the pre- and early-internet days amidst so much censorship was a tall order.]

What makes Stranger Things different from most queer stories -- and what allowed it to pierce through my defenses and stab me in the gut -- is that it perfectly mimics those bleak, acceptable-to-the-censors stories from my youth -- only this time, the secret uplifting gay plot twist is real.

Not for the sake of shock value or of grabbing some empty woke points at the last second, but because the plan all along was to slap the audience in the face for believing homophobic lies about the existence of queer happiness.

That's some gourmet catharsis, if you ask me.

Just the possibility that my inner child might finally be vindicated has allowed me to truly let myself want the things I want for the first time in 20 years -- and that's the first step towards finally crawling back out into the sunlight.

Happy Pride Month, everyone. 🌈

[revehae]

behind closed doors

pairing ↠ haechan x you x jeno

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, slight noncon, (uncreative) degradation, unprotected sex (i literally forgot about the existence of condoms, oopsies), brief choking, slapping, posessive!jeno

summary ↠ to the world, you're an amazing daughter and sister who's surely only awaited upon by heaven. to your stepbrothers, you're nothing more than an actress and a whore with a secret to keep.

wc ↠ 4.5k

don't like it, don't read.

the rules set in stone for you - all three of you - were unspoken, though clear. the line was drawn and you were expected to adhere to it. 

to say you tried would be debatable. you were not as naive and oblivious as you seemed, that much was apparent to your step-brothers. you played the role well; the docile, loving sister and daughter, that followed the line drawn before her with straight steps. never gave your parents any problems, and if anything, your devotion to your academics and lack of evident rebellious nature was the sheer opposite of that. they would give you that much. but they knew all too well that behind an attentively-crafted character, a façade if not anything else, you were merely a renegade of convention.

as were they.

that was how it all began - with your façade being beaten to the ground until only your true self stood. haechan was the first to catch on. for a moment, you managed to have even him fooled by your acts of naivety. you never seemed to notice how lewd your actions appeared in the leering eyes of a man, even a man that was, by law, your brother.

haechan could name every last thing that drove him crazy. when you wore shirts around the house you sometimes tended to be braless, and your nipples would press through the fabric for a couple of reasons. other times, your tits would simply bounce if you moved around too much. how some of your underwear was always left on top of your laundry basket when it was his week to do the laundry. your innocent actions that he couldn’t help but perceive as dirty, or the skimpy clothes that left little to imagination. haechan was certain he saw your cleavage more often than he saw his parents. and you all lived in the same house. 

and that was to be brief. either you were really, truly oblivious, or you were doing this on purpose.

obviously, it was the latter.

it didn’t take haechan long to figure out. honestly, he tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but there was a creeping suspicion in his chest that kept him on his toes. and he was certain of your motive one day. 

that night, you asked him if he wanted to watch some movies with you. that in itself wasn’t suspicious - you loved your family bonding time - and haechan didn’t turn the offer down. but you were again braless in one of his t-shirts that you had borrowed a while back and had yet to return. which was fine by him; he liked seeing you in his clothes, not unbeknownst to you. you snuggled close to him, seemingly innocently, but he saw the poor attempt of hiding your grin when you noticed him shift.

and then a couple movies later, you fell asleep, your head falling against him. he took advantage of the opportunity, letting you slip entirely into slumber before gently lying you against the sofa. slowly but surely, he slipped your underwear down to your ankles, looking attentively at your face as he pushed your thighs apart just enough to move between. it didn’t surprise him in the slightest to find that you had already soaked through your panties. you seemed distracted throughout the movie, and by now it was very obvious what was plaguing your mind.

haechan tugged at his own clothes and eventually slid into you. he tried to be slow, to draw it out, and at first he did. he held his breath during the first couple of thrusts, but ultimately couldn’t help but let out a sound or three. that was what roused you. you blinked, not entirely comprehending what was happening until your eyes focused on the moving figure between you.

“hyuck, wha… stop it-“ 

haechan didn’t hesitate to cut you off, placing one of his palms squarely over your mouth. “shut up,” he said underneath his breath, watching you weakly squirm. “don’t act like you weren’t begging for this.”

you gulped, chest heaving. honestly, he had to commend you. if he hadn’t known that you were bullshiting him right now, he would have sincerely believed that your round eyes gleamed of genuine innocence and surprise. but you were nothing if not a performer.

haechan’s hand moved from your mouth to under your - his - shirt, that had already ridden up your stomach. your lower half was completely exposed to the air, and he went up to fondle with your breasts, moving at the impact of his every thrust. you stifled your sounds, not yet wanting to give him that pleasure. you could tell he already had you figured out, though, if his words were any indication.

“jeno’s down the hall,” you whispered, biting at the fear you pretended was installed within you. if anything, you would have liked it if he caught you - if he joined you. but that was a different, later chapter of the story.

haechan didn’t buy it, obviously enough, although he replied, “then, you better be real quiet for me, got it?”

you nodded in response. the most amusing part, to haechan, was that you hadn’t even attempted to fight him away. you didn’t even try to deny wanting this all along. he assumed that you would have likely put some effort into pretending as if this wasn’t what you were subtly working your way towards, but you didn’t.

save for your fake surprise. of course, you weren’t shocked to find him buried between your legs. you knew what you were doing; you had been trying to lure him there this whole time. his hungry eyes and evident arousal never went unnoticed by you. he tried to hold back, maybe because he wasn’t always sure, but he was no better than you. you knew men, and before anything else, haechan was simply that. a man could never resist his temptations.

“wore this to fuck with me, didn’t you?” he asked, voice low, though he already knew the answer. you resisted a grin; of course you did. haechan wasn’t subtle; not that he intended to be. “would do anything to get a dick in you.”

you shook your head in denial, tears emerging in your eyes. not out of pain or discomfort - as the slight addition of that was your pleasure - but out of relief. you were so relieved that the wait was over, and god, was it worth it.

haechan ran a hand through his hair and chuckled quietly. “no? so you didn’t wear my shirt on purpose? didn’t do it to make this easier for me? you don’t make sure i can see your tits every goddamn day like some kinda whore? yeah right, you fucking slut.”

you couldn’t battle the moan, clenching around him tightly. it was your dream to have him talk to you like that. 

“there you go,” he said, amused by your failure to conceal your pleasure. “you were laying all up on me, making sure i could feel you. you aren’t fucking slick.”

you whimpered, “i‘m close, hyuck,” his words very evidently getting to you. his efforts to wear at your cracking façade finally rewarded him with the treasure lying beneath the surface.

“yeah, is that what you want? you want me to make you cum?” haechan teased, watching the way you bobbed your head needily in response. 

he tried to conceal his laughter, given jeno was only just down the hall, probably fast asleep. in spite of the fact that it was late, it was a weekday. miraculously, neither of your parents were home, and if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to keep this a secret from his brother he would have gone stupid with you. it wasn’t that haechan was startled or even intimidated by the thought of jeno discovering what was happening right under his nose - he knew his brother well, details that even you couldn’t imagine - or even acting out of selfishness. even if not right away, he knew jeno would eventually catch on. he was always good at sniffing out lies and deception. but haechan simply wanted him to learn for himself, feasting on his brother’s inevitable reactions.

“cum,” haechan commanded, his voice hardly above a whisper. “before i don’t let you.”

you ultimately did reach your climax, convulsing underneath his body. you bit your lip, and too back a cry of your step-brother’s name. it was straight out of a dream, more specifically an erotic one, and you were convinced that you were dreaming as you lay there weakly, watching haechan continue to use your body.

haechan came subsequently, although not by much. in favor of not ruining the couch and leaving a trail, he pulled out, resorting to finishing himself with his fist and shooting spurts of cum on your face.

he didn’t hesitate to whip out his phone, not even bothering to ask permission to photograph you and your only warning was a “say cheese” before he was snapping photos of you. you glanced at him, almost panicked, and though he couldn’t tell if it was out of genuine concern, he assured, “don’t worry, baby. no one will see how much of a whore you are except me - for now.”

for now.

haechan was kind enough to help you clean yourself up before he left, but he didn’t leave without firmly mentioning, “this won’t be the last time.”

bearing that knowledge in mind, it was difficult to fall back asleep that night.

true to his word, that night wasn’t the last time, but the beginning of your sexcapades. it wasn’t a one-time or two-time thing; it was happening more frequently than you could count with your fingers and toes combined. haechan became accustomed swiftly, never missing his chance to drag you away for a fucking whenever you could get away with it. if it was only the two of you in the house, rest assured you would be fucking like hounds. sometimes he’d slip into your room in the middle of the night, not always while you were awake. whenever he could get his hands on you, he would.

haechan wasn’t the only needy one, though. of course not; that had already been established. more often than not, you found yourself wet and begging for his touch. your acts of seduction didn’t end there and you’d take it up a notch, sometimes walking into his room in merely a towel after a shower and asking if you could borrow one of his shirts (nevermind the fact that you were gradually developing a collection of his shirts and hoodies that you had no intention of returning). if the water glistening on your skin wasn’t enough, maybe once or twice you had dropped the towel, innocently insisting that it wouldn’t be a problem because he had already seen everything, right?

needless to say, it would end with you on his bed.

all of the sneaking around would have gone on for weeks by now. no one had caught on - that, you were almost certain. you had been doing so well, learning how to keep quiet in spite of how difficult it was. your image was still steady.

it was late when you stepped into the kitchen. yet again, your parents were out on business, and it was solely you and your step-brothers, who they expected to take care of you. nonetheless, you were confident that they were asleep, given the hour.

but when you felt someone wrap their arms around you from behind, hands steadily falling to knead your ass, you realized you were wrong. guess haechan’s not sleep, you thought, probably been up playing video games. all without sparing him a glance, you very lightheartedly told him, “haechan, stop.”

“haechan, hm?”

on a dime, you whirled around and froze. you knew your brothers’ voices’ very well, and that was certainly not haechan’s.

it was jeno that you were faced with when you turned around, who had his hands in his pockets now. he tilted his head. “you let haechan touch you like that?”

“no—”

whatever semblance of calm jeno held dissipated on a dime; he shut the refrigerator and roughly pressed you into the surface, his breath heavy on your neck as he whispered, “i don’t like being lied to - you know that.”

you had no response to offer him. jeno had genuinely caught you off-guard, and though you expected some type of confrontation eventually, not now, not like this. instead, you swallowed hard, half-feigning the fear in your eyes as you struggled to hold eye contact with him.

jeno basked in the way your body trembled, unhurriedly trailing his eyes and fingers down your figure. somehow you simultaneously amused and angered him. part of him was entertained to see your body react with something like terror, but the other was busting at the seams with ire as he noticed you were wearing his brother’s hoodie. it always pissed him off to see you in haechan’s clothes.

as cliché as it sounded, you felt like prey at the mercy of a predator, waiting for him to make his move while being painfully aware of the fact that you could never counter it even if you wanted to. he began to steadily roll up the hoodie with a single finger, and though you attempted to swat his hand away, he yanked your weak hands away with ease, pinning them above your head. it was so pathetically futile that it had to be deliberate. “at least try to be convincing,” jeno teased, using his other hand to continue his movements.

the pace was tormenting; he took his sweet, precious time to roll up your - haechan’s - hoodie, more and more of your flesh being exposed to the cool air piece by piece until your bare chest was left wide open. “nothing underneath?” jeno mimicked a gasp of mock surprise, groping your breast in his palm. “you wore this for haechan, too, huh?”

the thought of what would happen if you continuously lied to his face piqued your curiosity, however you weren’t sure if you wanted to test your luck yet. instead, you bobbed your head, whimpering at the feeling of his hands.

“thought you were a good girl,” jeno sighed. if it wasn’t for the fact that he had been onto you for a while now, all of this would have been shocking. you maintained such a clean image that no one would have suspected a girl like you had such a filthy secret. except for jeno; he found you as obvious as could be.

“i am,” you insisted, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t all that true.

“liar,” he hissed, shoving his hand down your shorts. you bit your lip when he cupped you through your underwear, trying your best to suppress a noise. “if you were good, you wouldn’t be wet for me.”

that alone should have been humiliating, and it was, but it being your stepbrother who had you aroused didn’t exactly stop either of you. any of you. you tried to combat a moan when you felt his fingers pressing against you, but you couldn’t resist.

which broke the last of jeno’s resolve. he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you upstairs, ignoring you telling him to “slow down,” or that he was holding you “too tight,” or that “it hurts.” you knew no pain. it hurt knowing that haechan had gotten to you before he even got the chance. and tonight, he had something to prove.

jeno wasn’t very gentle with you from that point forward. he forced you against the wall - specifically the one adjacent to haechan’s bedroom wall. he was going to use your body to make a statement, and a very loud one at that. you squirmed in his hold, but you were helpless; years of physical activity paid off on his end and your attempts to fight him off - whether you were genuinely using all of your strength or not - were effortlessly overpowered. god, was that arousing. jeno gripped you by the neck and threatened, “behave, or i’ll hurt you more than i have to.”

that made you instantly still and jeno continued to pry at your clothes until he was satisfied. you didn’t wear anything much, merely the hoodie, the least lengthiest of shorts, and a pair of panties. he didn’t hesitate to free himself from his sweats, stroking himself fully hard in his fist. you could only eye him with so much pent-up desire, begging him to end the wait.

jeno had also been a subject of your depraved fantasies, although you thought that he would have been significantly harder to crack. which was why you very strategically went for haechan first. jeno had a jealousy issue that he masked as playing the role of the protective, older brother. in that sense, he was not all too different from you. but you were aware that he despised seeing his little stepsister with other men and haechan was no exception to that. your plan was soiled - you intended to make him jealous by going out with one of his friends - but you weren’t necessarily complaining. the sooner you could get his dick in you, the better.

jeno lifted you against the wall and when you felt his dick brushing against your folds, you held on to your breath for dear life. “prove to me that you’re a good girl by taking it,” he told you, forcing himself into you with one sharp thrust.

and jeno fucked you right against that wall, doing everything in his power to make everything you were doing at the moment painfully obvious and loud; ensuring your body was thrashing against the wall, slapping you anywhere to make you squeal, or thrusting harshly into you to earn a cry from between your lips. haechan had to be awake, and you could only pray your neighbors weren’t. as gratifying as this was to jeno, he was again met with ire upon the realization that you given this experience away. not only was being inside you a pleasure, feeling the way you squeezed around him like your life depended on it, but outwardly, it was something else. he adored the way you were so pathetically helpless against him, incapable of saving yourself from being used. most especially by someone who was expected to look after you. 

in a way, he was. but it wasn’t very conventional. he wanted you, and he wanted to be the only one who dare got to have you.

there was a bit of tension amongst the three of you that following morning. neither were surprised to see you ignore it or continuing to be innocent. you sprung into the living room with a spring in your step - obviously cheerful about something -  and greeted them joyously, kissing their cheeks as usual. if you caught the mood in the room you had suddenly intruded, you didn’t show any sign, but there was really no way you hadn’t. the look on their faces was unignorable.

haechan pulled you down onto his lap, ignoring your tiny noise of surprise and attaching his lips to your neck. “mornin, princess,” he whispered.

your gaze met the sinister, exasperated one of jeno’s, eyes boring holes through the flesh of you and haechan. it was paralyzing; you could only sit there and swallow hard, shifting your eyes anywhere else.

“i see you two had fun last night without me,” haechan remarked, biting back a snicker. he could tell without sparing a glance that his brother was not pleased.

“we did,” jeno replied curtly. “did you expect an invitation?”

“would’ve been nice,” chirped haechan. “it’s all good, though. we have a lot of fun on our own, too. isn’t that right, princess?” he grinned, his eyes on you the whole time. meanwhile, he was rubbing your bare thigh - courtesy of your less than lengthy shirts - and you had to bite your lip, begging yourself not to make a sound. jeno was already on the brink of breaking something.

instead, you very reluctantly bobbed your head, not daring to glance at jeno although you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him looking at you.

haechan crooned, “use your words.”

you gulped before doing so, wetting your throat that had so suddenly gone dry during the past couple of minutes. “yeah. yeah, we do,” you stammered, doing everything in your power to avoid looking at your other stepbrother.

jeno couldn’t bear it any longer and stormed off, and you knew that you were in for it tonight.

everything continued this way - haechan would be indifferent towards your affairs concerning jeno, but he’d deliberately make his brother jealous for the sake of it. in response, jeno’s temper would manifest in the rough manners he used you, fucking every hole of your body with no remorse. it was your very definition of heaven. going back and forth between your brothers was, at one point in time, merely a dream to you.

ultimately, however, jeno’s sudden discovery didn’t deter you from your original plans. you had no clue how he maintained his composure before then - because obviously he had been aware for a while - but you were tempted to poke the dragon. and you did.

“and where the fuck are you going?” jeno asked when you strutted into the living room, checking your makeup for the fiftieth time in your pocket mirror. you were dolled up, wearing the skimpiest dress with every level of you styled. which, paired with the frequency of which you were re-checking your appearance, could have meant only one thing at this hour.

your mom pointed at him from the island and yelled, “language, jeno!”

haechan snickered and you stifled a laugh of your own, but not for that reason; because you knew he wasn’t pleased with you. “what’s it look like? i’m going on a date, dummy,” you replied, sticking out your tongue. 

“don’t talk to your brother like that, y/n,” chided your mom, hands on her hips. she had always pushed the family agenda, though neither of you were technically related, save for you and your mother and them and their father.

“sorry, mom,” you apologized, forcing your most genuine tone. normally you would have been on your best behavior, but you were very intent on provoking jeno. and though he did well at concealing it - courtesy of your mother’s presence for once - you saw right through him and knew he was seething at the core.

haechan seemingly was intent on joining your little scheme, and pressed with a stupid smile on his face, “a date with who?”

“you guys know mark,” you replied to haechan, but you were looking straight at jeno, looking for a crack in his calm demeanor. bearing in mind the potential of his anger, memories flashing in your head, it was almost scary how collected he was; or seemed. “he should be here in a couple of minutes.”

mark was a mutual friend of theirs. you were almost surprised he hadn’t mentioned to either of your stepbrothers that he was taking you out on a date, but it worked perfectly. you got to capture jeno’s reaction in real-time.

“lee scored you?” haechan, incredulous, laughed, like it was the most bizarre thing he had ever heard. jeno laughed too, but not out of amusement. it was anger. “man, good luck. you’re gonna need it.”

you giggled. for some reason, you had a feeling it wasn’t mark he was implying you would need luck with. “please. i’ll be fine.”

the doorbell rang merely moments later, and while haechan told you to have fun and your mother told you not to stay out too late, jeno was deadly silent. part of you was scared when you got into that car with mark, but the other was thrilled.

when you got back home, all of the lights were out and your parents' cars were yet again gone. after kissing mark goodnight, you turned your key into the lock, and it wasn’t until he had pulled off that you felt arms wrap around you. you shrieked, and their hand went over your mouth. “quiet,” jeno growled in your ear.

you complied. with jeno’s palm over your mouth, it would have been useless not to, anyways. “walk,” he ordered, and you did as told, letting him lead you upstairs. you winded up in his bedroom and only then did he release you, but there haechan was waiting, tossing a baseball into the air impatiently. that honestly took you by surprise.

“you sure took your sweet time,” haechan spoke directly to you, finally sitting the ball down. you assumed he had been waiting for a while now. “thought your mom told you not to stay out too late. or did you do that on purpose?”

from the mischievous smile on his face, you had a feeling he was trying to get you into more trouble. you didn’t answer, knowing you were in enough already. but that was the fun part. 

jeno pushed you onto the bed, resulting in another surprised noise from you. “jeno-”

“i don’t want to hear it,” jeno interjected, lunging forward to unzip your dress. the moment you tried to stop him, haechan reached for your arms and held you down. now you saw what this was; they were teaming up against you. “i was being lenient about you and haechan, you know - let you two fuck like rabbits all around this place and didn’t say a word - but now you’ve really tested my kindness. you talk slick to me, go on a date with one of my friends dressed like a whore, and then come back late. did all that to piss me off, didn’t you?”

“no, i-“

jeno slapped your cheek. “lie again.”

by now, there were tears brimming your eyes. you could only look to haechan for mercy, as if he was any better, but being of the same blood, he and jeno were as similar as they were different. what he lacked in possessiveness he compensated with his potential to be just as cruel whenever he wanted to be. maybe indirectly, he was being cruel this whole time. surely there was no way he wasn’t aware of how jeno reacted every time he noticed the two of you fucking around.

jeno seemed to notice this and laughed dead in your face. “haechan’s not gonna save you, babe. you think he’s any better than me? he wouldn’t be here right now if we weren’t the same.”

that you knew. it didn’t take a genius to tell that haechan and jeno were essentially cut from the same cloth. the main difference that you could pin was that haechan had a more verbal violence, while jeno leaned towards physical. though that didn’t mean they didn’t teeter across those borders.

“he’s right, ya’know,” haechan snickered. “this is what little sluts like you get.”

jeno took advantage of haechan holding you down, moving to remove your panties. and for someone who was squirming so much as if you didn’t want any of this, they were drenched. jeno could only chuckle at that. 

“no, no - ‘m sorry,” you balked, but jeno ignored you and haechan shook his head. 

“you’re not sorry yet,” haechan told you, ominous as ever. “but you’re gonna be.”

you were counting on it.

[herlv3r]

yes or no

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.

୨୧ synopsis: your best friend, yunjin, constantly expresses her attraction towards you. as her best friend, you struggle and question whether she’s being serious or not. it's not easy as your lingering feelings for the girl doesn’t help either, when her actions and words only feed your delusions. 

୨୧ pairing: bestfriend!yunjin x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: fluff

୨୧ a/n: been obsessing over yes or no because it makes me feel things. listening isn't enough, i need it in my soul. sorry if there's mistakes, i proofread like once lol. anyway first fic finally done wooo!

you've known yunjin for awhile, and you just can't wrap your head around when she began acting like this. the sweet nicknames, loving gestures, constant physical touch. you're not complaining but you shouldn't allow yourself to give in to her wicked spells.

a knock is heard on your door. "yeah, come in," a tall ginger walks into your room and closes the door gently behind her. "hi pretty girl," she looks in your direction and walks towards your bed with a cute eye smile. you gawk at her too long for your liking.

you snap out of her trance, "hi jen what's up?" she stops and flops her whole body down on your bed, slightly wrinkling your sheets beneath her. "mhmm, nothing much. i just wanted to ask if your busy." you giggle at her action, admiring how comfortable she is around you. she stares at you waiting for your response. "why bother asking me when you already know my answer?" you give her a confident look as you raise your brow.

"oh yeah right, forgot you don't have any friends other than me." you sat on your chair, dumbfounded and disbelieving with what just came out of her mouth. you pout at her, tears forming in your eyes. she bursts out laughing at your cute reaction. "ahh, you're so cute." she gets up from her position and heads towards you.

heat rushes through your face as she approaches closer. she forces you up and fixes your hair. "awh, i'm sorry baby." that was the final straw, you thought to yourself. it's unfair honestly. you hate feeling vulnerable especially for something you can't control. you don't even remember when you developed feelings for the taller girl. all you know is that you realized it too late that cupid slapped you right in the face, when you found yourself blushing even with the lightest touch from the ginger. you've held on hiding it deep down, but you don't know whether that's something to be proud of.

she snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get you out of your thoughts. "hey, you okay?" you come back to your senses, as you walk past her heading somewhere that's not in her proximity, but you can't avoid her forever. "yeah i'm fine"

she pulls out two tickets from her jacket's pocket, waving it in the air, "since you're not busy... how bout we go see a drive-in movie?" you thought, for the sake of your own feelings, you should turn her down. but at the end of the day, you're still her best friend. you force a smile, "sure thing!"

as you entered her car, you noticed how prepared she was. a neatly folded blanket rests on the backseats, along with a picnic basket and two bottles of sparkling drinks. smells good you thought. you secure the seat belt around you and get comfortable on your seat. "soo, what's the movie going to be?" she smiles brightly at you as she starts the engine. "mhm you'll see."

you both sat in comfortable silence for awhile, until she pulls up in an empty parking lot with a big screen in the middle. "where's everyone else?" yunjin turns to you and a slight smirk forms on the corner of her plump lip. "i don't know, i guess we're early?" you look at her with a suspicious face. "girl.. you're not planning on killing me right" she lets out a loud laugh, "pfft shut up, of course not."

she exists the car first, jogging around the front to reach your door before you stepped out. she opens the door for you while bowing as if you were a princess getting off your chariot. you chuckle, "thank you pretty lady." she winks at you in response.

you shiver as the cold night breeze passes through the thin fabric of your shirt. without a word, yunjin immediately removes her jacket and covers you up with its warmth. the scent of her perfume engulfs your senses causing butterflies to kick in. you stare at her gathering everything from the backseat as your cheeks turn bright red.

"jen this is honestly so freaky. you sure we're at the right place?" she drops everything, and intertwines your hands as she smiles. "it's okay, trust me, just relax." you listen to her and wait until she finishes setting up.

"okay sit please~" you look around and admire the scenery she created. you turn to face her "wow jen.. it's so pretty, you did so good." a slight blush of pink appears on her cheeks, "are you cold? do you want your jacket back?" attempting to remove it, she stops you and awkwardly coughs, "no it’s okay, keep it on." she shifts her body closer to you. “thought it’s a good idea to share body heat,” she gives you a small wink. your body stiffens as she leans even more closer.

eventually, the film started rolling. you smacked yunjin’s arm after realizing it’s your favourite ghibli film that’s being projected. she jokingly winces from your sudden action. you give her a side eye, “you think your slick huh, yunjin". she hums in response.

as the credits play out, she takes your hand and plays with your fingers. “so.. did you enjoy today?” you let out a tired sigh. she looks up at you. “what’s wrong?” your gaze glued to her eyes, not knowing how to explain that she’s the problem from the very beginning. how her small gestures and words freezes the time around you. how her genuine smiles turns her eyes into crescent moons and the silly faces she makes whenever she tastes something delicious. everything about her makes you feel like you’re a ticking time bomb ready to explode any second. however, she’s your best friend. it’s harder to let her go than to dump all your feelings on her. when in reality, she probably only sees you platonically.

“nothing, i’m just a little worn out,” you force a reassuring smile. “okay then, let’s get you home before you pass out,” she pats your head. as you both got up, you stop her and pull her into a hug. you feel her stiffen around your arms but she eventually wraps her arms around your waist, drawing you in closer. “thank you jen, i mean it,” you say into the hug. she grips the fabric of your clothes, “anything for you.” you let go of her embrace, knowing if you’ve held on longer you’ll combust. after packing up, you entered her car and sat in comfortable silence again.

shortly after she pulls into your driveway and parks her car. she gazes at you but doesn't say anything. you should say something, you thought. but your throat's dry and you can't spit anything out. "have a good night honey," her sweet nicknames again, but she sounds a little disappointed. "you too jen, and drive safe." you got out of the vehicle but felt like she expected something more from you.

before you could walk any farther, she gets out of her car and grabs you by the arm. "i'm sorry.. i.." you just stare at her, confused. is there something she needs? did you take something from her? she just sighs. "god.. you're so oblivious aren't you?" she lets go of you. she takes her hands and ruffles her perfect orange hair out of frustration. "what are you talking about." you stood there dumbfounded. "i call you all these cute nicknames, i let you be my passenger princess, i take you out on dates, i cancel all my plans just so i can spend my time with you. but why can't you still see it.." you just stare at her. she sighs heavily. "why can't you see... that i like you?"

a blush of pink immediately rushes on your face and you feel like steam is escaping from the top of your head. you couldn't process what came out of her pretty lips. she likes you. did you hear that right? you pull her in a tight hug. "you're an asshole" you smack her back. "for the longest time.. you made me feel all these feelings for you thinking that if i did something with them, i'd lose you." she lets out her cute chuckle as she wraps her arms around you. your heart loosens, letting go of that burden you hold of crushing on your best friend.

she gently pats your head, "soo.. will you go out with me?" you let her go and fix her hair, "yes, of course." a big grin forms on her face and takes your hand, leading you to your door. "okay, i'll call you later." a dumb smile creeps on your face. "yup, drive safe jennifer." she leans forward with her cheek facing towards you. "a kiss on the cheek will protect me," she smirks. you lean forward about to kiss her until she quickly turns her head, connecting your lips with hers.

you pull back and smack her arm. "wow! you witch." you both burst out laughing. "okay, okay now get in." as you slip inside and close the door, you watch her pull out the driveway and drive off. you lean your back against the door and flop to the ground, punching and kicking the air with excitement.

[dilf-din]

To be Known (To be Loved)

Frank Castle x f!reader

WC: 2500

Warnings: mentions of blood/gun violence, so much fluff & domestic bliss

Author’s note: so what if I want him to settle down and have a soft life and dote on his girl, don’t worry about it!!

It’s not that you were clumsy or lacked focus. That was the opposite of true. Nobody had an eye for detail like you. That’s what landed you your job as a crime scene analyst. The FBI even contracted you out from time to time when they did jobs in the city. They did today, actually. And though you had been doing this for years, sometimes it still made your stomach churn. And traffic was a bitch coming home, and you forgot to take the ground beef out of the freezer so you were trying to scrape some kind of meal together, chopping what was left of an onion with a too dull knife, and your hand slipped.

It wasn’t too deep, just a perfect slice into the tip of your pointer finger. It stung in the cold stream of the sink you were quick to plunge it under, your eyes already watering from the bruised onion you had been attempting to dice.

Not a big deal, just slap a bandage on it and remember to ask Frank to bring his kit to sharpen your knife set this weekend.

You sniffled and got back to work, sautéing scraps of leftover chicken with some fresh veggies, adding lemon and white wine and garlic and herbs. The air filled with aromatics and the sound of your 80’s playlist.

The tension that spent it days lodged between your shoulder blades was starting to wear away. All you needed to completely feel at peace was the sound of the key in the lock and boots down the hall.

Frank was a lot of things. Dangerous and safe, rough and gentle, commanding and kind. And he was always on time for dinner. Whether he limped to the door dripping blood or showed up early with a bottle of wine and flowers, he was dependable above all.

You didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know he would be there soon. You could feel it in your cells, like the waiting would be soon over.

AC/DC’s fast guitars faded into REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, and you found yourself humming along to the ballad. The opening and closing of drawers and the sizzled of the pans drowned out the quiet thump of boots against wood while Frank paused for a second to admire you, a love drunk smile plastered on his face.

He set a paper bag down on the island behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing warm kisses to your cheek, rough stubble scratching your smooth skin. You relaxed into his embrace, eyes drifting shut for a moment as you leaned against his strong chest and inhaled deeply the lingering smell of pine from his shower this morning.

“How’s my baby girl doin’?” Frank hummed into your neck, pressing a trail of kisses to the exposed skin he could get to with the collar of your shirt in the way.

“Got in a fight today,” you sighed dramatically, holding you hand up so he could see your finger wrapped delicately.

“Baby,” he lamented with equal drama, drawing your hand to his mouth to lavish in kisses.

“I’ll kill the guy,” he said sincerely, baby browns boring into yours, holding your hand to his cheek with a tender grip around your wrist.

“He’s in the sink,” you gestured over your shoulder, “If you can remember to sharpen him and his friends this weekend.”

“Course baby doll. Smells good in here,” he peeked over your shoulder at the pans simmering on the stove, “I brought dessert. Cannolis from Tony’s,”

“You’re too good to me,” you clasped your hands over your heart.

It was Friday, which meant Frank was home for the weekend.

His boots by your bed. His body next to yours. Breakfast together and movies on the couch and unlimited snuggles.

“You look tense, everything okay?” he queried as he brought his broad hands up to work out the knots in your shoulders.

“Just a long week,” you shook your head, “All I want is to take a long shower later.”

“I’ll clean up after,” he kissed your cheek once more and gave your shoulders a squeeze before setting off to find something to keep him busy.

He was always tightening screws and changing lightbulbs and air filters, doing whatever he could to make your life easier. Sometimes, on particularly hard weeks, you would unplug your router and call him to come tinker with your internet. Any big or small gesture he could give you, he would jump through hoops to do. You had never felt as secure or adored in any relationship before Frank.

After dinner, and of course your favorite dessert, Frank set off to clean the dishes so you could hop in the shower.

The shower took a few minutes to heat up, so you took your time removing your necklace and the makeup you sported to work. Your cheeks puffed from the scrubbing, and steam was starting to paint the edges of the mirror in front of you.

The last thing you did was peel off the bandage on your finger. The skin was still split badly, deep purple peeking out from under it. It would hurt for a few more days at least, you reasoned.

You left a pile of clothes in front of the mirror, and stepped behind the glass wall of your shower. Another shitty Friday in the books. This would be sure to wash away at least some of your woes.

Your neck turned under the hot stream, letting the water distribute over your hair, and only when you reached up to run your fingers through it were you met with sharp pain.

You hissed and quickly retracted your hand, “Shit.”

The force of the water was like a hundred small knives driving into the exposed nerves. The pain burned hotter than it did when you cut it.

Tentatively, you placed it back in the stream to see if it just needed a second to adjust, but were met with the same intense pain.

You choked down a sob. It was silly, really. When you thought about the loss you saw today and the blood stained carpet, the empty seat at someone’s table tonight, it was ridiculous to be this upset over a shower.

All you wanted was to wash away someone else’s pain and move on with your life, and you started feeling selfish. Words of self ridicule started ringing in your ears, and you pressed your forehead against the cool tile wall, crying softly, willing yourself to pull it together.

You heard the shuffle of Frank entering the adjacent room to sit on the edge of the bed and tug his boots off, thud of his gun on your nightstand, and the unbuckling of his belt.

“Somethin’ wrong?” his low voice rumbled over the running water.

“I can’t wash my hair,” you admitted pathetically, sniffling from the corner, “It stings so bad.”

“You’ve sewed yourself up with no anesthesia and gunshot wounds and I’m sitting here crying about a little cut,” you continued.

You heard the pad of Frank’s feet on the tile as he stepped into the shower and wrapped himself around your wet frame.

“I don’t expect you to be tough as nails, sweetheart,” he murmured into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there, “I love that you’re so tender. You’re too good for all this shit. Stay that way.”

He cradled the sides of your head with two strong hands and turned you to face him, catching your mouth in a long kiss. Frank kissed like he was a starving man and you were the first food he had seen in days. It was enough to make your stomach flutter.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before gathering your hair into the water and raking his wide fingers through it.

“What are you doing?” you asked with red eyes.

“My girl said she wanted a shower,” his voice came out husky. Brow furrowed with concentration, he smoothed water through every strand, cradling your scalp so gently.

Overcome with emotion, you tucked your forehead into the safety of his neck, nuzzling your nose against his throat as he worked the tangles out of your hair.

The same hands that had snapped necks and pulled triggers were lathering your hair in shampoo and holding your hips close to his.

Your hands wandered his arms and back, grazing over scars and wondering how he got so lucky every time. He must’ve had one hell of a guardian angel. Whatever it was, you felt equally lucky to be here with him, to be his.

The two of you stayed mostly silent. Frank asking the occasional question.

“‘S’that hurt? Is this okay?”

When he finished with your hair, you stepped out of the way so he could quickly wash himself off, reaching for the shampoo you kept on the shelf for him.

Sometimes when he was gone for days at a time, you would wash with his soap and sleep wrapped up in one of his shirts.

Frank drew you into his embrace once more, and you rested easily against his chest with warm water creating pools and streams over the shape of your bodies together.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured.

“I couldn’t,” he said dryly, “My back is killing me.”

“Let’s go lay down, old man,” you teased, reaching to turn the water off.

“Alright smartass,” he laughed with one of his crooked half smiles, following you out of the shower and pinching your ass, eliciting a yelp.

Frank pulled on a pair of joggers and perched on the counter watching as you towel dried your hair. He leaned slightly forward with his hands curled under the edge of the counter. The muscles in his arms and chest were perfectly sculpted, glistening under a light layer of condensation while the steam filtered out of the bathroom.

You chose one of Frank’s black tee shirts and a pair of old cotton undies.

Frank waited patiently while you dabbed on a few creams and moisturizers, fussing with your hair and examining the split ends.

“Beautiful,” he hummed, leaning into your space to steal a quick kiss.

“Almost done,” you reassured, raking a cream through your hair.

“Take your time. I’m enjoying the view,” he smirked, craning his neck to take a peek at your ass while you leaned forward into the mirror.

“Perv,” you teased.

“Only for you, baby,” he smiled.

It was autumn in New York. The sun set quicker and quicker each night. Lazy orange light colored your room with flashes of brown and crimson leaves just outside the window. On your nightstand burned a cinnamon candle, and the rest of the lights were dimmed to set a warm mood. The sun and flickering flame cast wispy shadows on the wall.

On the tv across from your bed, there was a Great British Bake Off marathon playing with the volume low. Frank had pretended not to be interested at first, but it wasn’t long before he was criticizing cakes alongside you. It was something you could both agree on as background noise.

Frank sat straight with his back against the headboard, and you nestled between his legs leaning against his chest.

Callused fingers ran up and down your arms, toying with your hands and occasionally slipping in your sleeve to caress your shoulders. Physical touch was one of your chief love languages, and Frank was fluent. He had spent enough of his life alone and longing that when you were together, he indulged in every touch and kiss.

A deep exhale parted your lips and he shifted slightly.

“Is somethin’ else botherin’ you?” he asked after a considerable length of silence.

You didn’t know how to answer.

“Just seems like more than a cut finger got you in a funk today,” he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing half a kiss there.

“I don’t want to bring work home with me,” you clamped your eyes shut and buried the side of your face into his chest.

“I come home caked in the shit I deal with every day, and not once have you made me feel like it’s an issue to you. You can talk to me,” he said matter of factly at first, but his tone softened into a gentle pleading.

Let me in.

You drew in a shaky breath.

“It was another homicide today. Guy killed his girlfriend. Don’t know why. Shot her in the stomach four times. She was dead when we got there, but her face,” you trailed off, “I’ve just never seen someone look so afraid. I don’t know if he was there when she died, or if she was alone, or what’s sadder.”

He sat in silence, intently listening.

“I know you see this kind of stuff every day, but it still gets to me,” a tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly swiped it with the back of your hand.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, tugging at your shoulder to turn you towards him.

You swung a leg around so you were straddling him, your hands toyed with the chain around his neck.

“Baby, the people I see are bad people. People like your guy that got away today. Seeing the other side always hurts. You’re not weak for that,” he hummed. A strong hand cupped your cheek and turned your head slightly up to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened,” he whispered. His brown eyes were overflowing with sincerity.

You wondered how one man could contain such wild contradictions. Gentleness and violence didn’t often walk hand in hand, but they did when Frank Castle was around.

His voice was like gravel and velvet. His kisses were both hungry and adoring.

With one hand on your face, his other rested at your waist, balling up the tee shirt and rubbing circles against your hipbone with his knuckles.

“You’re good at what you do. ‘S’okay that it weighs on you.”

“You too,” you countered softly, and you saw another level of defense in his eyes melt away, the corners of them softening almost imperceptibly.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his bare chest burned through the thin barrier of his shirt across your frame. His arms felt like a fortress around you. You had never been afraid since he came into your life.

“You’re my peace, you know that? None of the rest of that bullshit matters to me. This is what matters,” he murmured softly into your ear.

You pushed lightly off his chest to look him in the eye once more, “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

He scoffed and turned his head with a shy grin, pink creeping into his cheeks, “Don’t go around tellin’ people that. Ruin my street cred,” he laughed lightly.

His heart drummed steadily beneath your hand. He made it another week and so did you. And you would keep making, you had vowed. For moments like this.

[vamp4kaulitz]

I BEG PLS DO A BILL KAULITZ X FEM READER WHERE YOU PEG AND DEGRADE HIM PLS PLS PLS PLS LIKE THE IDEA OF BILL WHINING UNDER U UGHHH

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 || 𝐁.𝐊

pairings: sub bill x fem reader

warnings: degrading, pegging, reader riding bill like there’s no tomorrow, whiny bill, reader lowk being a asshole, teasing, face sitting, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), crying out of pleasure, mentions of toys, and overstimulating.

a/n 💌:: omg gais im so sorry for not posting in a while, i lowk forgot i had tumblr😭😭 i will start posting more if i don’t get lazy!! wrote in all lowercase. not proof read.

“bitte mama…! i need you right now..” bill whined as he slowly grinded on your hand, trying to get something out of it. right now, you were watching a movie and bill has been needy all day, constantly begging and wanting attention. “i thought i told you i will help you after the movie is done, can’t you behave?” you rolled your eyes at him..but you couldn’t lie, you liked seeing him rut against your hand like a lil’ bitch in heat.

“b-but— you’ve been neglecting me all day..! i can’t hold back anymore mama, i cant cum without your help..” bill argued as he continued to be the needy bitch he is. you ignored all his pleas, continuing your movie. bill whimpered and got up from the bed, walking over to the closet and pulling out a box, that reveals all the sex toys he owns.

he walked back over you and laid next to you. you heard all his little cute noises, making you want to fuck him already.. “mama…bitte..” he begged as he started to rut against your arm again. you finally got enough and you paused the movie and threw the remote and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “you just can’t wait can’t you? so fuckin’ desperate that you gotta rut against me. sluts like you don’t deserve to fucked.” you growled and he whimpered. “m’ sorry mommy..” he whimpered and you scoffed.

“slutty brat, you only care about your pleasure.” you rolled your eyes and then kissed him. as you both kissed, your hands snaked down his waist, taking off his black and white pajama pants. you threw them somewhere and took off his boxers, his red and throbbing tip greeting you. “aww, did i really neglect you this much?” you chuckled as precum oozed out of the tip. you slowly stroked him, letting his precum coax your hand and his dick. he whimpered as he gripped onto his pillow..aw how cute.

“s-stop teasing me!” he whined. you heard buzzing coming from somewhere and you looked for the source and found his pink bullet vibrator. you smirked as you saw his pink tight hole squeezing the vibrator. “such a slut, wanting me to touch you like this. is the vibrator not enough for you slut?” you chuckled and slapped his tip. you took it all in one go, making him moan loudly. you started to work your way with him, using both hands. he threw the pillow and gripped your hair like there was no tomorrow. “f-feel so good mommy—!!” bill moans loudly as he started to thrust his hips upwards. he started to push your head down as he thrusted upwards.

a few minutes later, he started twitching in your mouth, obviously showing he’s about to cum. after one last thrust, he slams your head down and cums into your mouth. you pull away from him and swallowed all his cum. “tasty.” you smirked as you watched him try to catch his breath. you took off your shorts and panties, revealing your wet dripping cunt.

bill literally moaned at the sight of your wet cunt. he knows he’s the only one who gets to see such a sight like this, and it makes him even more harder. you grabbed your phone and turned up the vibrator inside of him, making him moan loudly that could be passed as a scream. you grabbed his tip, taking him all in one go, catching bill off guard. “m-mommy—! w-wait..please..!” he moaned as he gripped the bed sheets.

“oh? but this is what you’ve been begging for all day? your gonna take it like the good fucking whore you are.” you said and took off your hoodie, revealing that you had no bra on. you lifted up and started to move your hips, his dick hitting inside your warm walls. bill grabbed your waist, gripping the fuck out of them. you gripped onto his neck, slightly chocking him. all his little pathetic moaning only turned you on more.

you felt him twitching inside of you, making you chuckle. “aw, is my little pathetic bitch boy already cumming? is this all you got?” you teased as you tightened your grip around his neck. bill face was so messed up, his eyeshadow and mascara running down his face, his sweat making his messy hair stick to his face. “so fucking ruined, all for me.” you smiled, as you started to ride him faster.

“come on bitch boy, cum inside of my warm pussy, you wanted it so much right? now you’re gettin’ it.” you spat. bill started to thrust upwards, him slamming your g-spot. you threw your head back and started moaning, clenching down on his dick. “thank you so much mommy, m’ gonna cum all in this pussy, m’ gonna get you pregnant with my babies..!” bill groaned out and with a few more thrusts, he came inside of you.

he pulled out of you, collapsing on him. you both were out of breath, all sweaty, sticky, and hot. you gave him some sweet neck kisses, to show affection. only a little while later, you felt yourself getting tired. you started to close your eyes, only to have them shoot open as bill entered his dick back in you and started to thrust his hips.

“b-bill—!” you shouted, moaning loudly as it caught you off guard. “m’ sorry mommy, but i need to cum in this pussy once more!” he said. you were really in for a long night huh?

a/n💌:: i wrote this in one fucking sitting💀, anyways gais I might open up requests again! I js need to finish up some other stuff:3 hope you enjoyed, tysm for reading!!

pic credits: estachinita and 7kaulitxz on pinterest

—hika🕷️

[hannyoontify]

how your relationship with seventeen was revealed

warnings | reader wears nail art for minghao's part

notes | reader is also an idol, kinda unrealistic in some parts but whatever js let me have this one LMAO, not proofread

seungcheol – an interview

he thought it was high time to reveal your relationship to the world. after (a lot of) discussing with you and receiving your permission, he mentioned you during an interview for a magazine shoot. the question was smth around the lines of "what do you do when you have a particularly bad day" and cheol casually said "i go to [name] for comfort. they're a really special person to me and always cheer me up whenever i'm feeling down. i'm lucky to have them." with an absolute love sick smile.

safe to say, twitter almost crashed after that interview was released and you confirmed it on a livestream js a couple days later. (both pledis and your company were not happy but fuck them)

jeonghan – your hair color

your company's very big on self-expression when it came to physical appearance, so they never forced a hairstyle / makeup / clothes on you or your members. you were free to dye your hair however you wished, and you mostly kept it natural. until you met jeonghan. a couple months into your relationship with him, jeonghan came up with the idea of matching hair colors. he often had to dye his hair for comebacks, and instead of dying your entire head, he suggested that you would only get a single, visible strand of hair dyed in the same shade. you loved the idea and no one really noticed, not even your own company, until a eagle-eyed carat pointed it out on tiktok. the entire kpop community knew you and jeonghan were close since you both guest mc-ed together before and one of your members were close with seungcheol. and it seemed legit. the entire internet blew up and it even became a trend among couples. your companies both released a statement just a few weeks later, confirming the allegations.

joshua – his podcast w/ vernon

there was a question sector of the podcast he hosted with vernon where carats could submit questions via twitter and he and vernon would answer them. he saw a question that asked about their thoughts on your group's most recent comeback, and vernon managed to sneak in a few praises, complimenting the composition of one of the bsides before shua began a word vomit of praise, specifically for you. he complimented how much you improved since the last comeback and how good you looked in the music video, the teaser photos, the most recent stage, basically everything. he was so busy talking that he didn't notice the massive side-eye vernon was giving him and once he stopped talking, joshua physically slapped a hand over his mouth because oops.

no worries though, you thought it was funny and thought it was high time that the two of you revealed your relationship. joshua got clowned for it a lot though, especially by vernon.

junhui – instagram

the two of you tried your best to time your posts so nothing seems suspicious. for almost a year, your pictures from cat cafe dates to museum dates and late park dates went unnoticed by fans. that is, until your group went to japan recently for a short trip for promotions and jun tagged along since he had no schedules for 2-3 days. you found a cute convenience store during a late night walk with him and took pictures. some on your own, some of only him, and some together. except this time, the two of you forgot to talk beforehand and you both posted the photos on the same night.

your manager scolded you for being so careless, but truth be told he didn't actually care. he thought it was funny and only had a word with you because as your manager, he had to. (he already knew beforehand and thought you guys looked super cute together)

hoshi – seungkwan

you and hoshi were having a movie date night but you guys weren't particularly in the mood to actually watch a movie so the two of you just fucked around the whole night, prank calling different members to see how they would react and watching instagram reels (because hoshi swears by them and thinks they're better than 'that stupid clock app'). (the funniest reaction you got so far was mingyu, who was half asleep when you facetimed him and asked him if his refrigerator was running. when he responded with a groggy 'yes', hoshi said that he better go catch it and mingyu actually dropped his phone to go catch it.) the next victim was seungkwan, who you didn't know was doing a weverse at the same time. when seungkwan received the incoming facetime call from hoshi, he grinned and decided to accept the call by showing the camera his phone screen. what he didn't expect was to see hoshi's arm wrapped around you and his chin tucked onto your chin when he answered the call.

when seungkwan accepted the call, the first thing you saw was a reflection of you and hoshi, and you recognized the familiar flow of comments flying past the unfamiliar phone screen at an incredible speed. you dropped hoshi's phone in sheer panic and glanced over at your boyfriend who looked as equally panicked, his jaw basically reaching the floor. poor seungkwan began fumbling for a random excuse but it was too late now. the cat (tiger) was out of the bag.

wonwoo – via the company

wonwoo never thought there was a point in hiding your relationship from the public. he was with the person he loved and what a few jobless netizens had to say about your relationship wouldn't change that. after a couple months of 'testing the waters' and seeing how far the two of you would commit to the relationship, wonwoo just straight up went to the ceo of pledis and went 'yo i'm dating [name] from [group name] and you can't stop me' (with your permission of course, and you did the same thing) after a lot of discussion with both your ceo's, the companies agreed to simultaneously release a statement to the public about your relationship with wonwoo.

woozi – his lyrics

we all know woozi projects everything that's going on in his life through his song lyrics. yk those posts where people are like "i need someone to break bruno mars' heart again" bc his breakup songs are so good? it's like that. the latest seventeen comeback is FILLED TO THE BRIM with love songs and everyone and their mother is like "what the fuck is going on" because woozi's written love songs before but not like this??? the lyrics seem so much more deeper and personal, and the listener can almost feel woozi's heart and soul being poured into the lyrics and melody. woozi personally denied anything on a weverse live but people caught on once he released a mixtape of a love song and the lyrics contained a physical description of a person that was a little too similar to you.

minghao – books (and nail art)

minghao likes reading books. you like reading books. that doesn't mean you're dating, right? so many people in the world love to read books, that doesn't automatically make you lovers, right? ... right, except you read and post about the same books minghao reads and recommends to carats. even then, that could've been a coincidence, right? you just have similar taste in books.

wrong. you made a silly mistake of saying on a live how all your favorite books were recommended by a super close friend that you held dear to your heart. still, you can just be friends with minghao, right? wrong again because fans noticed that you had matching nail art with minghao's, the signature 8/infinity sign on your nails. there was no point in being in denial any longer.

mingyu – instagram

another silly little mistake. he recently came back from a trip with just you and him, and naturally, he wanted to upload some photos to instagram for his lovely fans to foam at the mouth scream over (he knows the power he holds). he was lying in bed (next to you), ready for bed as he scrolled through chose different photos to upload. what he didn't realize was that he had also clicked on a photo of you and him kissing in the dark, under a streetlight. it was a classic, romantic kiss. his hand was resting on your lower back, your arms wrapped around his neck as he dipped you, your leg held up by his other hand. almost immediately after posting, mingyu set down his phone and went to sleep in your arms.

the next morning, he woke up to about 56 missed calls from his manager, a BUNCH of weverse notifications, and 300+ messages from the seventeen group chat (that came back to life for the first time in almost a month and it wasn't js seungcheol talking to himself)

dokyeom – weverse live

dokyeom is surprisingly not shy when it comes to his relationship with you. after a few serious discussions, the two of you ventured out to the streets of seoul in broad daylight, your hand tightly entwined in his own, but no tabloid or news outlet seemed to catch whiff of it. dokyeom was frustrated because he wanted to show you off to the world, tell everyone that he was yours and you were his, but no one was bothering to expose it. so he decided to take this matter into his own hands. after receiving permission from both companies, he started a weverse live–with you. the two of you sat side by side, awkwardly waiting for more and more viewers to enter the livestream. obviously the entire internet went insane when dokyeom held his hand in yours and said with a proud smile that the two of you were dating and would appreciate all the love and support. and the internet officially lost it when he pressed a kiss to your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

it was cute, and even his manager–who was sitting behind the phone–was smiling as he watched the two of you together.

seungkwan – an entertainment show

similar to joshua. a couple members from your group were guests on a show that seungkwan was a regular cast of to promote your upcoming comeback, and of course they already knew that you were dating him. before the recording, they were teasing him (they're all already very close) and kept mentioning your name, which made seungkwan turn into a bright red tomato. during the recording, when it was time to promote your group's most recent comeback, your group members stood in the center of the room and gave a little sneak peek to the choreo of the title track, which seungkwan followed to with on the side (people didn't notice this until the airing of that episode–and an fyi, this was before their official comeback). and when the time came to the talk about the production process, seungkwan immediately began to ramble about how much you improved on your live singing and how proud he was of you. he also talked about how you talked to him about how much you struggled with the change of concept and how you pushed through those hard trials. he also couldn't forget about how good you looked and how the concept change looked really good on you and the new makeup look accentuated your eye color. at the end of his very long speech, seungkwan realized what he just did and sank into his chair with his bright red face buried into his hands.

vernon – vernon being vernon

vernon did a vernon and randomly revealed it on a weverse live, almost giving his poor manager a heart attack. he was reading through the comments when he randomly said 'by the way, i'm dating [name] from [group name]' HIS POOR MANAGER. HAD A MINI HEART ATTACK BEFORE TURNING OFF THE LIVE IN A PANIC. the following day, pledis released a statement, confirming vernon's impromptu confession.

dino – dispatch

my poor boy was the only one who fell victim to dispatch 😭 he was so careful not to get caught because he didn't want you to receive any backlash. specifically went on dates later in the day so the two of you wouldn't be as easily recognized, trying to stay home as much as possible, covering up as much as you both could. but eventually, dispatch caught the two of you hugging at the entrance of the hybe building at 11 pm. first, weird. why were they watching you guys at 11 pm. second, seungcheol was so relieved that the secret was finally out because he was running out of excuses as to why dino was almost never at home anymore.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime. 

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel. 

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious. 

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them. 

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room. 

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords. 

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work. 

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow. 

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings. 

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail. 

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery. 

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold. 

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be. 

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. 

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain. 

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that. 

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears. 

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space. 

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above. 

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer. 

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?” 

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking. 

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.” 

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer. 

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib. 

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly. 

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well. 

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib. 

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.” 

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.” 

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.