#god you match everyone's expressions perfectly

[roturo]

-; ੈ♡˳ MINISKIRT

JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU TEASING THEM WITH A MINISKIRT! ★༉‧₊˚✧

(gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento)

contents: smut, nsfw, sub behavior, PRAISE, miniskirts, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, whimpering, overstimulation, edging, jealousy, sub-space, fluff, possesive behavior, all of them being DOWN for you, and lovesick for you.

A/N: wrote this while watching the office and drunk so npr, and proabably took so long to write because of this.

gojo satoru

He knows what you’re trying. That’s why he doesn’t give in. And it’s much more difficult when that tiny miniskirt is the color of his eyes, matching perfectly with a top as small as your skirt of his hair color.

Bending over the table just so he could see the matching panties while you ‘try to have a closer look to what Nanami is showing you’ – And he doesn’t know what angers him more, the fact you’re doing this to annoy him and probably other people behind you are watching your panties which he’s trying to cover with his body, or the fact Nanami is more likely watching your tits through that tiny top you’re wearing right now. 

He pinches the back of your thigh, making you squeak and sit again as a reaction– looking to your side finding Satoru giving you a glare easily expressing ‘stop what you´re doing’ – and maybe that’s what makes you more eager to tease him now that you’re feeling the wetness coming out of you.

And you know he’s suffering right now. Not only because he’s jealous, but because you’re giving a small piece to someone else of what he supposed it was his.

“Nngh- please baby, i’m sorry- but I couldn’t stand him watching how precious you looked” His cries went to deaf ears as you rode him, edging him for the third? fourth? time. He had some ‘childish’ (that’s what you called it) outburst because he couldn’t stand you teasing him like that, and suddenly after pinching your thigh moved you towards his lap after you sat so you could feel his raging erection and broke Nanami’s chair with the cursed energy he couldn’t control coming out of his body. Something completely new for him.

“Please princess, it was just- You’re so beautiful I can’t let anyone to- I… I just can’t get enough of you.” He ghosted his lips with yours, trying to kiss them but you wouldn’t let him. You were close to another orgasm too, he was yearning for your touch, begging to whatever god stronger than him so you could give him permission to cum.

Who would’ve thought, huh? 

If Mahito, Sukuna or any of those fuckers watched him lose control to a girl they woulc’ve laughed at his face, but if they experienced how good it was to be inside of you, feeling your liquids coat him and his pelvis while they come out of you— even though you don’t let him cum, they would’ve understand. 

But he won’t let them get even 2 meters near you.

You started kissing his neck, marks that will be very prominent in just some hours, his whimpers bringing you to heaven even with how slow you rode him, just one thrust and he swears he could cum– overstimulation taking the best of him, you just pecked his lips one time and did as what he imagined and failed to keep it in.

“Aw baby, you ruined it! Why couldn’t you wait for me? Wanted to cum so badly? It’s okay, but cum again, okay? Be my good boy and make me cum again mhm?”

geto suguru

Are you doing this on purpose? Or you don't really notice? He swears people could see his raging erection from 10 meters afar, quirks of having a big cock, i guess.

And it’s so fucking embarrasing trying to hide it with the shopping bags you gave him to carry, not only he looked in an awkward position while walking, but the friction– and having you infront of him walking with that mini skirt, would make everyone crazy.

He swears he could just cum while walking and watching your hips move and tease him with your body. 

But you just were clueless. Getting excited to find the store you were looking for and do small jumps which had him rolling his eyes to conceal his need for you.

And he was getting needy. Spraying kisses all over your neck when he back-hugged you, he was making it obvious now! Rubbing himself on you, he needed it.

When you finally arrived home, he couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing away the bags somewhere in the kitchen carrying you– having to steady yourself by grabbing what you could from his back and not fall face into the floor while your legs were hanging on his front.

He carried you all the way into your bedroom and dropped you down softly on your bed while he plastered kisses all over your thighs mumbling about how much he missed being between your thighs and how you’ve been playing games with him this entire day.

You were suddenly overcome with excitement. Your clit throbbed and you desperately needed release. Your breath hitched in anticipation. All you could think about was letting Geto finally give you what you’ve been planning this whole day. 

“You’re so perfect. So perfect f´me– and all you been doin’ this day was tease me with that tiny skirt of yours baby- had to control myself to not go crazy over ya’”

At times like this, where Geto is kneeling right in front of you with his face buried in the middle of your legs, you are grateful that you lived alone. Because it means you don’t have to hold back your moans when Geto swipes his tongue on your clit. You don’t have to hold back as he roams his tongue around your entrance.  You know you genuinely lost it when he wrapped his lips around your bud, giving it a hard suckle that made your hips bucked. Out of instinct, your hand went to his hair. Gripping around the strand of it just to push his head closer to your cunt, letting the tip of his nose pressed against it. 

He inhaled, he fucking inhaled to let your scent filled his nose as if his tongue isn’t enough to make you feel stars.  Soon enough, you are on your knees, with your face buried on your pillow, tears pooling around your teardox as Geto has his mouth back to your pussy. His tongue moves in and out your hole to build up your orgasm. 

“What happened to my teasing girl mhm?”

choso kamo

Poor him. How did he end up in this situation? He swears all he did was give a small peek through your skirt because how couldn’t he?!

You were bending in front of him! And you’re even meaner because you know he has a crush for you since….ever. Kinda embarrassing to be honest. Because he acts like a kid having a crush, even worse, like when a little kid had a crush on their old brothers/sister friends… 

But. He won't lie he loves when you punish him like this. Because you praise him for being such dork for you. 

"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose with his black mark and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"

And he’s not thinking very clearly right now– Not when you’re pumping his cock in that tempo that has him seeing stars and crying out loud for you.

“yesyesyesy princess– oh my god- oh my fucking god… i´m sosososoooo lucky to be here with you baby, I love you soo much, i’m so, fuck, nngh!”

He was coming for a fifth? six? time right now. He swears he heard something about you telling him you won’t stop jacking him off until he cums dry. 

Choso looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his hand around yours, "But I want to fuck you now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.

And he’s fucking excited for that. To fucking lose his mind and body to you. To dump all his cum wherever and whenever you wanted.

nanami kento

This little fucking pervert! He acts like this ‘oh so mature guy’ when he’s just as down for you as you are for him. He tried not to fall for you once he saw you for the first time in a mission both of you coincidentally crashed into. Being from another part of the world and suddenly connecting through these annoying curses.

But what annoyed him the most was how ‘inappropriate’ you are while working. Wearing those miniskirts of different colors for work. For work!

How is he supposed to focus? How is he supposed to train? Not when you’re moving your legs with that skirt that barely covers your butt and he easily sees the figure of it and your lips begging to be released to be tasted. By him. 

And you finally have him where you wanted, right between your legs. 

Your moans echo inside your bedroom, and maybe tomorrow you will have your neighbor file a noise complaint to you, but you didn’t mind. To have Kento’s attention only to you worth everything. 

At first, Kento wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too big compared to you.

Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck your needy cunt.

You were just barely holding onto his shoulders, leaving scratch marks that he would not even bother covering up, holding you with ease against the wall. "That's right, bunny, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Kento whined and clung to you, feeling his cock pumping in and out of your small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.

The obvious outline of his length on your lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, your trembling legs wrapping around his hips, keeping his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of his cum.

"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock kento, please~!"

[imthebadguyyy]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

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[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order

read on ao3.

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.

Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.

Both on, and off, the field.

That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.

And that thing had a name.

John Price.

He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.

It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.

Nonetheless.

It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.

But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?

Yeah. You don't fear many things.

But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.

You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.

"You four. My office."

Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.

To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.

Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.

"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.

You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.

It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.

You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.

Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.

The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.

His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.

"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."

There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.

Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.

"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"

You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.

It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.

The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.

Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.

In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.

Neither of you say a word.

Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."

Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.

"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."

Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.

And, then, it's your turn.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."

And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.

But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.

That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.

"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."

The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.

Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.

"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.

Captain.

"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.

Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.

"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."

He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.

On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.

His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.

He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"

It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.

With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."

And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.

"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."

You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.

Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.

The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.

"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."

Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.

"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.

When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.

Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.

You never thought you'd see the day.

"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.

But... not getting prepped? At all?

Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.

Oh. Fuck.

He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.

His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.

You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.

Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.

"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.

Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.

He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.

Not today, however.

That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.

"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."

He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.

But, like directed, Simon fucks you.

He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.

No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.

It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.

"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.

"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."

You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"

Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.

"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.

"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."

Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.

He pulls out.

"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.

Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"

You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.

That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.

It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.

"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.

Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.

The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.

"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."

You realise, then, what exactly this is.

It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.

It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.

This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.

But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.

You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.

He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.

You love him. So effortlessly.

Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.

Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.

John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.

Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.

Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.

"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.

Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.

You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.

"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"

Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.

"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.

John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.

"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.

You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.

"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.

So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.

Instead, it only makes you wetter.

Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.

With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.

"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.

Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.

"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.

Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.

"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."

"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.

Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.

"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.

Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.

Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.

"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.

You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --

"Stop, Johnny."

Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.

Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.

"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.

It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.

"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.

"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.

Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.

Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.

Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.

John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.

"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.

It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.

"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.

Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.

He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.

Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.

"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.

It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.

"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.

"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."

Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.

You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.

John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.

He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.

Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.

"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.

There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.

"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.

"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."

John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."

"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.

You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.

Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.

John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.

a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!

[eufezco]

THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

[channiesdelululand]

Game Night

NSFW Lee Minho x Reader 2,951k words

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex, oral, cursing, overstimulation, competing screams with you best friend in another room (idk i this is a warning but just dont want anyone uncomfy)

Imagine hating your best friend's boyfriend's best friend... Or do you?

Best to pick your Chan bias friend!

______________________________________________________________

“YOU LIKE WHO?!” 

Your best friend about drops the wine glass in her hand as you both are cleaning up in the kitchen after another successful game night. A pretty common occurrence at the Bahng residence. The two of you catching up on the week while Chris and his best friend in the other room talking about their next record release. You looked forward to this all week every week. The ONLY thing that could make it better is if the man you hated wasn’t Chris’s best friend and roomate. 

“Jesus Christ bsf/n, lower you voice! Chris and Min are literally in the living room…” 

“Sorry, sorry! But like babe I thought you hated Minho? Just yesterday you said you hoped he walked into a vat of gasoline and then tripped on a match.”

“I can’t stand him! But he just, everything! It’s infuriating why does he need to be so god damn sexy with everything?”

“Why do you even hate him again?”

Bsf/n asked as you started to walk out of the kitchen to go grab your phone you left on the coffee table.

You cant even remember honestly when it all started. Maybe it was the cocky way he carried himself? Always so cold to everyone not really even giving anyone an opportunity to see a different side of him. But it wasn’t just you, he hated you too. Always acting like a school boy pulling at the things he knew would get to you. But after today, you were just confused. The looks he kept throwing your way. You caught him staring multiple times. His eyes following every little thing you would did, every slight move you would make. Which lead you to the conversation confessing that you may have breathed in every moment of him staring a little too much. That maybe, just maybe you wanted more.

Getting so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t have time to react to the tall figure colliding into, drenching you both in leftover punch. 

“Fuck Minho, Im so sorry!” You waited a few seconds to be called a dumb ass or some rude remark, but it never came. He set down the punch bowl he had been holding down on the table you left your phone at. And within seconds had your wrist in his hand leading you to his room. 

“Come on you can change into one of my shirts.” Thats all you heard before the door opened and you found yourself where you had never been before. But here you were back pressed up against the door, Minho inches from your face with an expression you just couldn’t read.

“The shirt Min?” Trying to break what ever tension was happening.

“Oh I’ll get to that, don’t worry. But first tell my how much I infuriate you. Go ahead kitten, if you can talk shit about me to bsf/n you can do it to my face.” Leaning with one hand above your head and the free hand brushing the little bit of hair falling in front of your face softly behind your ear.   

“I….”

Before you could even form a sentence his lips were already crashing into yours, pressing your whole body further against the door. Your hands holding his face in an instant pulling him closer into the kiss, if  that was even possible. It was painfully obvious as your tongues danced together the craving you both had for each other had reached its breaking point. 

“Can I?” Minho gestures to your button down blouse. You quickly nod in approval. As he starts to unbutton half way down he pauses and takes in every inch of what’s in front of him. Making a mental picture of the way the black lace popping out from your bra perfectly accents the curves of your breast.  

“Minnnnnn” You very impatiently whine out as he takes his time lightly peppering your collarbone with kisses, trailing his way done as he finishes taking off your shirt completely. 

“Oh y/n, kitten relax youll get what you want but im about to take my time with you. Tell you what though I'll share a little of what i have planned. After im done getting my hands and lips on every inch of this gorgeous body, im going to have you on your knees so I can see if those pretty lips are good for more then just talking shit, and then im going to fuck you into tomorrow. Sound like a plan?”

Before you could even think of a response you felt his hands quickly lifting you up under your thighs wrapping your legs around his torso pressing you up against him, feeling how painfully hard you had already made him. With you safely in his arms, your hands behind his head pulling him into kiss after passionate kiss he made his way with you over to his nicely made bed. 

Slowly setting you down on your back, lips never leaving your body but instead trailing down your neck right in the creek  that made you fold as he gave little bites, blowing on each fresh red mark he created. Little squeaks and whimpers leaving your mouth was like some kind of overwhelming drug to Minho. Like a song he wanted on repeat in his ears forever. Trailing down your body further licking, biting, marking every free spot available. But he needed to hear more. He needed to know just want kind of noises he could pull from you.  Finding your waist band he began toying with the elastic while looking up at you with the deepest brown eyes. You couldnt tell what exactly you were seeing as part of him was filled with such a dark lust that washed over his appearance but somehow he also was looking at you so softly something youve never seen him do. 

“You know ive really wanted this for so long y/n but I never thought i had the chance. I want to make this body of yours mine.”

“Please, need you Min.”

“You need what sweet girl? Come on use your words.” His hand still running along the areas of your waist, using the top of his hand to softly brush up against you feeling just how wet you already were through your thin leggings. Your hips moving and wiggling slightly trying to feel more. His face so close you could swear the pressure of even his breath was about to set you off. 

“I need you, I need you to touch me” the most pathetic sounds starting to pour from your mouth as you start to beg this man you thought you hated to finally fuck you. 

“Please fuck me, do what you want to me, i need to feel you in me minnie please.”

“What a good girl finally being honest with me for once. Lucky for you im a man of my word.”

With that he pulled down your leggings to reveal matching panties to your bra. You hear a harsh hiss come through Mins teeth. 

“Fuck you wear these fuck for me?” Minho was really taking in everything just like he said because with every step he took you in like a painting. Memorizing every detail to its fullest before continuing. 

“You are so fucking perfect y/n” taking his hands and harshly grabbing your thighs, he truly thought every part of you deserved attention. While his hands massaged up and down your thighs his head was situated in perfect view giving your inner thighs the same licking, biting, kisses he was to the rest of your body. Kissing so close to where you needed him most causing you to cry out for more. With a a smirk and a slight evil giggle he flicked the side of your black lace to the side very eager to get a taste of you. With the first swipe of his tongue he looked up at you with a low moan.

“My god you taste incredible kitten.”

Pulling your panties fully off he went back down licking and sucking every part of you, holding your hips down while you squirmed. 

“Now sweet girl you were making such pretty noises earlier why are you covering your mouth now?” He noticed once he inserted 2 fingers while continuing to give your clit the full attention of his mouth. 

“bsf/n and Chris are outside I dont want them to hear”

“Oh but kitten i want them to hear, i want them to hear exactly what we are doing in here. I want you to scream so loud the whole city knows who owns you tonight”

“Fuck yes please” you more confidently moan out. 

“There we go, thats my girl. Plus i guarantee they are playing the same game so why dont we play a little game back, called whos louder. Its only fair since it is still game night. Now baby grind on my face i can feel how close you are lets win the first round”

Obeying his orders you tighten your grip in his hair and grind against his perfectly sculpted face. Everything was so overwhelmingly pleasurable, the pace of his fingers, the way they were curling repeatedly i to the perfect spot, him sucking and licking perfectly. It was all going straight to your head making you dizzy. You could feel your high coming and listening to him loudly enjoying himself was exactly what you need to push you over the edge. 

With a scream of his name, your legs tightening around him, your body broke through your high. But that didnt stop Minhos pace. 

“Min, its too much, i cant. Please” 

You couldnt tell what you were feeling but you felt like your body was about to snap. He didnt respond to your pleas with any words just a low growl between breathes. You felt a new high climbing but a different high. Something yould never before this and as your cried out his name for the second time in less then a minute you felt everything below you became soaked. 

“God, fuck that was so perfect kitten.” Minho raising his dripping face up with the most shit eating grin. He threw in a few licks to cause your body to twitch at the over sensitivity. 

“I dont know what just happened but im so sor..”

You were immediately cut off with him on top of you mouth back on yours.

“Sorry? Oh god for what?  That was so fucking sexy i need that from you over and over again. I want to taste you  like that every night. Fuck i need you even more. Did it feel good?” He was looking so deeply in your eyes.

“It felt incredible, ive never felt that good. Can i have more please. I want to feel you in me. Need to feel you in me now.” You beg as he removes his shirt still hovering over you giving your hands free roam all over his body. Every part of him is so stunningly perfect. How have you had the strength to go on this long not getting to touch every inch of him. 

Using your nails a little to graze over his skin, watching goosebumps appear along his strong arms currently one on either side of your body holding himself up. Watching your movements, the look in your eyes silently begging for more.  You reach down to begin unbuttoning his pants and he helps you by removing them fully letting himself bounce up against his lower stomach. Your hand reaching immediately to grab him, smearing his precum over the beautiful caramel tip.  A little groan falling from his lips. And a shiver through his body finally feeling your touch. He had thought about it for so long, after a long day late at night. Alone in room with his thoughts. Thoughts about you, touching him, playing with him, how your mouth would feel around him, how good yould feel taking all of him thrust after thrust. Knowing this was finally happening was enough to make this once stern strong man to melt into a puddle. He was quickly taken out of his thoughts as you pushed him forward and switching him to the bed so you could bend down in front of him. 

Now on your knees you take a moment to look up at the god like man in front of you. Perfectly chiseled body, and holding him so beautifully in your hand… it was enough to bring out a few pathetic whimpers from you. You were waiting to hear some type of overly cocky bullshit come from his lips but all that you heard were small moans as you rubbed your hand up and down slowly. It was a dangerously gorgeous sight. 

Taking your tongue in replacement of my hand going up along the middle, bottom to glorious tip top. Taking in the feeling of every vein before circling around his tip and back down again. Stopping every few cms to give small kisses. 

Starting to see impatience grow on the man groaning before you, you decide to give in and fully take him into your mouth swirling your tongue around and sucking when needed. He felt so fucking good as he slid towards the back of your throat, starting to buck his hips needing fuck your throat deeper. 

“God fuck 자기야” groaning in between words louder and louder as he takes a fist full of your hair pushing your head as far as yould go. 

“You are so fucking pretty like this. So fucking perfect. My perfect toy.” Drool dripping everywhere, running down your chin as let out the most pathetic noises. This was a vision of heaven for Min. 

In between the sounds your mouth was making and Mins delicious moaning you could hear your friends in the other room playing the exact same game. The echoing of it all was making you dizzy. You need this man deep inside you now. 

“Please Min, please fuck me”

Looking up at him with begging eyes, pleading for him to finally take you. 

“Sweet girl i thought yould never ask.” His strong arms picking you up from the floor bringing you back to laying on the bed, him hovering over you. Something so animalistic about the look in his eyes while he brought his face closer to your so he could kiss you. More passionately then youve ever been kissed, his hands exploring every inch of you. Wanted to simply devour you in every way he can. While kissing and sucking at your neck he was perfect aligned to rub himself up and down your folds. Teasing you, causing you to gasp everytime he was close enough to enter. Little hip movements trying to get him inside you. 

“My impatient little bunny” he let out a giggle as he slowly sank into you. With a slow pace back and forth, kissing at your face, and leaning into your ear.

“You are truly so beautiful. Absolutely made for me. I need you.”

You giggled as his statement.

“You feel so good, you have me right now”

“No, no y/n i need YOU. I need all of you. I need this every night. I need to wake up to you every morning. I need YOU.”

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper inside he rushed his pace.

“You can have me, i want you. Please take me and make me yours Minho.”

Nails digging into his back as he abused the perfect spot. You felt your body close to snapping at the incredible rush of feeling. 

Loudly sputtering out syllables of his name. 

“Yes come on tell me whos making you feel this good, scream for me.” 

Your moans were pathetic loud but so were your friends. It was like a match between you and bfs/n to see whose man was making the other feel better. It was clear both men had the same idea on how tonights game night was going to go. 

“I told you they would play too”

“Fuck Min, i cant take it please”

“Cant take what pretty girl? Come on tell me what you want. Tell our friends what you want. Go on scream for me.”

“Please i want to cum, i want to cum for you.” Moaning in a way you dont think youve ever moaned for anyone. Feeling your mind slip away into a state of pure bliss. 

“Yes!” The only word coming out of your mouth over and over and over again. Holding on as long as you could because it felt so good. 

“Go ahead 자기야 i want you to make another mess” 

Min wanted it to continue but with as good as you felt clenching around  him he knew he needed to let go with you right then. 

As wave after wave rushed over you Minho grabbed your hand in his as he let his orgasm go with yours both bodys twitching while the most beautiful melody of moans from the both of you came together.  

He stayed hovered above you for a bit his head in the crock of your neck. You could feel the smile on his face. Bringing his face up to yours giving him a gentle kiss on the nose.

“That was perfect Minho”

“No you're perfect y/n.” 

The gentle kisses continuing into something more passionate. You could feel Min on your thigh harding all over again. 

“It doesnt sound like bsf/n and Chris are quite done. And by the feel of it I dont think your done either I might have a little left in me.” Letting out an innocent giggle. 

“Fuck it ill go all night with you.” 

[fraugwinska]

Dude, i had an idea out of nowhere, and in my head it's so funny for no reason ☠️☠️ So, you know that theres like, that canon drawing that Alastor made for Angel's birthday?

((https://twitter.com/HazbinHotel/status/1642135435085217793?t=U6Kzncfye-QAjtJYy8R23A&s=19) This one)

So like, imagine that is Alastor's S/o birthday, and he decided to make her a drawing like that ☠️ idk it's weirdly funny in my head

So - a few things need to be said.

1. I know that Alastor canonically likes to doodle, and ever since episode 1 we really know just how awfully funny these doodles are.

2. what I didn't know was what the hell you were talking about, so I looked it up and... my god. The snorts I snaughted, the wheezes I whoze, the cackles I cuckled. He may be a 'gentleman', he may try to behave cordial and appear classy, but Doodle-Artist-Alastor is a fucking menace, no filter and so snappy, holy shit.

3. Now, for my highly professional opinion (*cough cough*) of what would happen if you, Alastor's s/o, would get a picture like this as a birthday gift. In front of everyone.

❤️ You agreed on celebrating your birthday, as redundant as you thought it was, only under the condition that no one would buy you a gift. If they wanted to hand you a present, you wanted it to be a small, handmade thing, valuing their time and thought behind it much more than the actual thing.

❤️ Everyone would hold true to this request, and the gifts you get match the giver perfectly.

❤️ Charlie and Vaggie crafted together, handing you a bejeweled jewelry box covered in glitter glue and snippets of photos they had taken of you and the gang over the time you were guest in the hotel.

❤️ Niffty, being both skilled in sewing and the chaos gremlin she is, presents you with a abysmal looking pile of different, sewn-together fabrics. You turn and twist it in your hands, thanking her without knowing what it is, until you find a golden snap lock hidden in the masses of layers. It's a very inconvenient coin purse.

❤️ Opening Angels gift has everyone holding their breath - preparing for something phallic, kinky or lewd. instead, you squeal as you pack a crochet version of Fat Nuggets, including his stubby little horns. Angels smug expression at the sheer surprise at his very unusual (and unexpected) talent of the gang quickly turns to a sweet smile as you crush him with your hug, telling him how much you love it.

❤️ Husk's gift for you is nothing corporeal. Instead, he announces he'd teach you one of his many magic tricks he often did for your sheer delight at your many evenings at the bar. He blushes a bit when you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

❤️ Alastor would wait to be the last one to present his gift - it's known the best is always saved for last. He hands you a large envelope. Curiously you open it, careful not to tear it, and pull out a thick sheet of paper

❤️ Five heads hang over your shoulder, five pairs of eyes widen at the sight: The paper is full of scribbled doodles, a crude, macabre looking version of yourself in the middle, around it splatters of what looks like blood, grinning faces, and scribbled words: cutie pie - talks in her sleep - MINE MINE MINE - I love Alastor (in a speech bubble over your head)

❤️ Reactions would be mixed, Charlie would find it weirdly adorable, Niffty would point out anything she likes with bashful giggles, Vaggie would be as disturbed as Husk, while Angel would make fun of it, laughing while mocking the quality of the drawing.

❤️ you however, would be torn between genuine laughter and earnest emotionality you've never received something handmade from Alastor. He'd often shower you in little tokens of care, a bouquet of flowers, a new necklace, a dress or a scarf he's seen at Rosie's. You found it not only endearing, the thought of him, dressed in his pompous attire sitting at his bureau, drawing this made your heart ache with affection.

❤️ Quietly staring at the picture, Alastor would interpret your silence as veiled ridicule, and vanish into shadows, retreating. He had failed, his gift shown to be juvenile and lacking. Sulking, he would avoid you for the rest of the evening, only returning to your shared room when night already fell and everyone was fast asleep

❤️ He would find you in deep slumber, cheeks a bit puffy and shimmering from trails of dried tears. He'd tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what would've possibly made you cry, then he sees it - his painting, clutched in your hands and pressed to your heart.

❤️ He'd hurry to change for the night, scolding himself for drawing hast conclusions - he should know you better. When he gently pulls the paper from you to set it aside, youd awake, reaching out to him, starting to apologize for not giving him an appropriate reaction.

❤️ alastor would shush you, slipping into bed with you, and give you your other, much more intimate present.

[wheeboo]

holidaze | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which you take your boyfriend on a holidate down the city. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing!! n just me being very whipped for him tbh :') WORD COUNT. 1.1k

notes: these r actually pics on our date guys. i took these pics of him <3 he did this for me. anyways i def didn't write this at 4am. happy holidays everyone! why r these actually the most boyfie pics ever i'm crying sobbing dying

There's nothing more better than venturing down the city at night with the spirit of the holidays filling the air. Festive lights are hung on streetlights which cast enchanting glows on the sidewalks and reflect off the wet and icy roads. Christmas trees are scattered throughout the city, standing tall and decorated with a dazzling array of ornaments, tinsel, and twinkling lights.

There's also nothing better than spoiling your boyfriend to a little date. Seungkwan had insisted that there wasn't any need for you to pay for everything, but tonight, you were all too determined to show just how much you appreciate him, even if it means arguing who would pay for the bill at the restaurant you chose or who would buy the matching stuffed animals you spotted in a store and couldn't resist buying.

Seungkwan has done nothing but warm your heart than any gift ever could. He's already a gift to your life, and tonight is your way of reciprocating just that𑁋to make sure he feels just as cherished as he's made you feel every day, simply because he deserves it, even if he doesn't think so himself.

"Do you think they'd like it? I'm scared I got the bad scents." Seungkwan fiddles with the paper bag of scented candles in his hand, his opposite arm linked around yours as you both continue your stroll down the glittering streets.

"My parents will love it. You don't have to worry about a thing," You reassure him with a gentle smile, giving his upper arm a small squeeze. "And even if they don't, it's the thought that counts, right?"

Seungkwan grins back, the worry lines on his forehead smoothing out. The city lights seem to reflect in his eyes like twinkling stars. "You're right. I just want them to like me, you know?"

"They already love you, trust me," You assure confidently. "Just be yourself, and they'll see how amazing you are."

Seungkwan could only shyly cower his head down to your words, the cold air nipping at his cheek that he attempts to hide away. You already know he has every right to be nervous meeting your parents for the first time tomorrow, but you also know that he'll win them over with his genuine and bubbly charm, just as he won you over from the very beginning.

The two of you trail up to a set of rails overlooking the sidewalk below and the looming buildings surrounding the area. There's some distant holiday music that you could hear from the nearby stores. Seungkwan leans against the rail, releasing a breath that creates a small mist in the chilly air, a thoughtful expression travelling across his face.

Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and snap a few candid photos of him against the backdrop of the city lights.

"Look back at me," You call, and Seungkwan turns to face you, a small smile to his face that you manage to capture before he playfully swats at your phone. "Hey, hey, wait𑁋just a few more... Okay, I'm done. See?"

He pouts when you swipe through the photos, showing him the blurry ones and the ones where he's mid-swat like a cat batting at a toy. "Oh my God, you make me look so goofy."

"But look at these ones." You show him the two where you perfectly captured him looking back at you and smiling naturally. "You gotta post these! You look so pretty."

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes and turns away to admire the lights of the city once more, biting back the shy grin to his face. As you tuck your phone away, you walk up to him, sliding an arm around his waist and leaning against the rail beside him.

And when you both turn your bodies to face each other, your eyes gazing into his, a smile crosses your face, and you can't help but to let a hand pinch his cheek, perhaps a bit more harder than intended. "You're so cute!”

"Ow," Seungkwan winces dramatically, his hand coming up to cup over yours on his face, but he doesn't take your hand away𑁋he doesn't want to𑁋and instead leans more into your touch.

You furrow a brow, noticing how cold his face feels against your hand, trailing a thumb lightly over his cheekbone. "You're freezing, Kwannie."

The warmth of your thumb seeping through the chill of Seungkwan's skin sends a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the winter breeze.

"Just a little," he mutters quietly. “But you feel warm."

His dark eyes are like pools of melted chocolate under the city glow. The playful banter has faded, replaced by a quiet intimacy that settled comfortably around you both. You knew you should pull away and head back to the warmth of your apartment, but something keeps you frozen to this moment𑁋to the way his gaze seems to pierce right through you and make you feel so seen.

Then a sudden urge, soft and insistent, sprouts within you.

Your smile blooms into a full, somewhat mischievous grin as you take your hand away from his face. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right on the spot your touch had warmed up moments ago. It was a soft, fleeting peck, barely more than a whisper of your lips against his skin, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you both.

Seungkwan can practically still feel the kiss lingering when you pull away, a blush creeping up his neck and painting his skin and ears with a rosy hue. The flustered look to his face was enough to send your heart into a giddy leap, and as you cup his face again, you feel it's grown significantly warmer under your touch.

"All better now," You whisper teasingly as you continue to hold Seungkwan's face gently between your hands. "Are you blushing?"

Seungkwan lets out a scoff, lightly shoving your hand away from his face. "No."

"You are."

"I'm not!"

"You are!”

"H-How can I not when you kiss me like that?"

His words make a chuckle leave your mouth, and you stretch your arms to wrap around his neck, closing the distance between your bodies. His own hands come to instinctively rest at your waist, breath hitching from the way your closeness sends another wave of warmth through him.

But before he can say anything, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips, catching him off-guard once more. When you pull back, there's a playful glint in your eyes, and Seungkwan is left speechless and dazed, his cheeks now an even deeper shade of red. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and he lets out a choked laugh, a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"You're... you're really something else, you know that?" Seungkwan stammers, his fingers playing with the hem of your coat as he avoids your eyes bashfully.

You tilt your head slightly. "In a good way hopefully?"

He leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your cold nose, his lips lingering for a moment. When he draws back, a few snowflakes land in his hair. "In the best way possible."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify

[watchmegetobsessed]

BACK TOGETHER

A/N: okayyyy another little steve fic bc yall really loved my prev one!

PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

WARNING: season 4 spoiler!!!

SUMMARY: You and Steve broke up not long ago, but watching over Max in the night brings the two of you back together.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The gang is now stationed in the Wheelers’ basement once again. After what happened to Max in the cemetery you’re guarding her nonstop, there’s always someone watching her, checking that she is still listening to the music and hasn’t gone into trance again. It’s one in the morning and you’re the chosen one to keep an eye on her, but Steve has decided to join you. 

It’s been a bit weird, hanging out with Steve so much even though the two of you broke up just a few weeks ago. You haven’t spoken much, but the recent happenings with Vecna brought the old gang together so now you’re forced to be around each other again. The breakup happened after a stupid, but pretty intense fight you had, it started because you’ve had enough of Steve always hanging out with Robin and even though you know Robin is playing on a different team, it’s still pretty annoying when you can’t make plans with your boyfriend because he already has something going on with Robin. 

He accused you of being jealous for no reason and you told him he is a child and it ended with a screaming match and the two of you parted ways after breaking up. One year of relationship ended in such a ridiculous way, you almost kind of feel embarrassed. 

“You’re not hearing any clock dinging, right?” Steve asks, breaking the silence since everyone around you is asleep. 

“Wait, you don’t hear it?” you ask with a dead serious face and watch as his expression falls completely. “I’m just kidding,” you add quickly.

“It’s not funny, Y/N, not after what happened to Max!” he tells you off, but you still find it a bit comical. He should know you well enough to know you’d have already told them if Vecna was after you. 

“Sorry, just trying to stay awake,” you yawn, taking a glance at Max who is seemingly still perfectly fine.

“Go to sleep, I can take over your shift,” he offers.

“No need to play the hero, Steve.”

“I’m not… I’m just trying to be nice,” he rolls his eyes.

“We’re not together anymore, so you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me, though you didn’t quite do it before either.”

Your comment comes out a bit spicier than you intended, but you also think it’s true. It’s too late to act nice now, he should have cared about you when you expected it from him. 

“Y/N, maybe we should talk about that,” he sighs, running a hand through his ridiculously good hair. How does he look this good even in the middle of what feels like another apocalypse? 

“About what exactly? That we broke up or that you said I was jealous or that you spent more time with Robin than your own girlfriend?”

“God, I almost forgot how hot you are when you give me an attitude.”

“And you’re such a child,” you roll your eyes and attempt to get up from beside him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back. 

“I’m sorry! Please, I want to apologize!”

“About wha–”

“Everything, Y/N,” he groans, already knowing what you wanted to ask. “You were right and I was an ass. I just always thought you would find someone better than me at college so I convinced myself you don’t need me and I didn’t want to need you either.”

His confession surprises you, he never told you he was having second guesses and you would have reacted differently if only he told you the truth.

“Steve, I’m staying in Hawkins instead of applying to schools out of state. I made this decision because of you. Do you think I would just drop you for some other guy?”

“I don’t know, I thought about that, yes,” he replies with a shrug, but it’s obvious he is struggling inside.

“You’re an idiot, Steve. That’s what you are,” you sigh. 

“Well, at least we agree about that. I really am an idiot, because I lost the best girl in town.”

Silence falls on you, it’s heavy and says a lot. You want to tell him you still love him, that you still want to be with him, but you want him to take this step, to tell you he wants to give your relationship another go. But you know it can take some time for Steve to figure out, to decode the signs you send him.

“What song would you play to bring me back?” you ask to keep the conversation going. His eyebrows rise as he looks at you with a tiny smile as he thinks about his answer.

“Something from Duran Duran, it’s your favorite, right?” he smirks as you gape at him.

“You ass, that’s your favorite!” Steve starts laughing and you can’t hold it back either as you smack him in the chest.

“Cyndi Lauper Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. You played it every morning last year when we drove to school,” he then says and it’s the correct answer, it’s definitely your favorite song at the moment. “Though I’m a bit hurt that your favorite song is not related to me,” he adds.

“But it is.”

“What?” he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“It was playing on the radio when you picked me up on our first date,” you tell him. “I took it as a sign.”

“That it was gonna be a good date?”

“That Steve Harrington is not as big of a douchebag people say him to be,” you tease him smirking. “And I was right. He is a pretty good guy. He just… gets lost sometimes, forgets that I love him a lot and I don’t want other men when I have him.”

He looks at you with those puppy eyes, his ridiculously curly eyelashes framing them perfectly and all your anger and disappointment is now gone. You just want your boyfriend back. Luckily, Steve reads the situation as well and he knows this is his chance to get you back.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a shitty boyfriend, but if you gave me another chance I would do everything to make you happy.”

“What took you so long?” you sigh with a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. 

You missed his lips, his kisses, his touches, the way he cups your face when he deepens the kiss. For a moment you’re not in the Wheelers’ basement, but in a safe place somewhere far away from the madness in Hawkins.

“It’s so nice you two just got back together, but you’re supposed to be watching Max.”

Dustin’s voice snaps you out of your little bubble and pulling away from Steve you see him sitting up, his eyes puffy and barely open as he watches the two of you.

“Henderson, you just know exactly when to open your mouth, huh?” Steve sighs and the kid in question just smirks and shrugs before lying back down and Steve doesn’t hesitate before pulling you closer to continue from where you left it before Dustin’s interruption.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lvoire]

☆ ⧽ save a horse, ride a cowboy

˓ˏ✶ˋ˒ taehyun x fem reader ! 1.6k words

˓ˏ✶ˋ˒ smut! 18+ only mdni!! intentional lowercase , asshole tae 👎 , weird alcohol potion , oral (reader receiving) , piv , protected sex!! , typos (not proofread)

everyone had been staring at him all night. everyone, including you. the cowboy look just worked on him so well! he loved the attention from it, from all the girls at the party. it made you sick. you shouldn't be feeling like this.. he's your best friend! nothing more! so why did seeing him making out with some girl in an angel costume piss you off so much?

you scoffed as you watched them, finishing off the last of your drink. you walked off into the kitchen to get another refill of the weird, red concoction gyu made. it was nasty! probably lethal! but it did the job of distracting you from the porno in the other room. "what's got you so upset?" fucking hell! you jumped at the presence suddenly next to you. turning your head you notice the semi concerned expression of your best friend. "one, don't sneak up on people like that... and two, im not upset. just disgusted at this" you paused to shake your cup around in a circle, "nightmare of a drink." he laughed. god, you loved his laugh. it was like listening to a choir of angels! it was so perfect just like him.

"hellooooo?" he waved his hand in front of your face. you shook your head, turning around so your lower back is against the countertop. "sorry im just tired." you looked around the two of you for the girl he was making out with. "where's the uh, angel?" he froze a bit, "she.. left?" your eyebrows furrowed, what kind of idiot would leave when they're making out with the taehyun! the most popular guy in your school─the whole city! "what did y-" "let's just go." he grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the kitchen and barely giving you enough time to put your cup down. he pulled his phone out as he was taking you outside. "hey, what's going on?" he ignored you as he called an uber for the two of you. "tae??" it was like he couldn't hear anymore. his whole mood changed so quickly in the kitchen out of nowhere. it kinda scared you. what could've spooked him like this? you were so consumed with your thoughts you didn't even realize the uber had gotten there. he opened the door for you to get in first. you mumbled out a quick thanks, still weirded out from the sudden change in tone for the night. the silent drive went on for what felt like forever. the traffic didn't help. though, it did give you a chance to stare at him in that stupid costume. the black hat complimenting his hair color perfectly, the denim shirt that was almost all the way unbuttoned, the matching jeans that showcased just how big his thighs were. all of it could make you cum on the spot!

he noticed you staring after awhile, choosing to ignore it because you were probably just spacing out, right? he shook your shoulder to let you know when you got to your shared apartment. you grabbed your purse and thanked the driver as you got out. you followed closely behind tae, looking for your keys as you two walked up the 2 flights of stairs to your floor. you handed him the keys as you took your heels off when you reached your floor, not wanting to be in them any longer. as soon as the door closed behind yall, he pounced on you. his lips were on yours and you couldn't believe it! your purse and shoes fell to the floor so you could wrap your arms around him. he signaled for you to jump up and wrap your legs around him. he carried you to his room, gently laying you on the bed. your heart was racing! you didn't realize just how much you wanted this until it started happening. he lifted your skirt up, getting clear access to your panties. he noticed the small wet patch and smirked. he grabbed the hat off of his head, handing it to you. you instantly wrapped your arms around it, the idea of him giving you something of his made you so happy. he grabbed the sides of your underwear, pulling them off and stuffing them in his pocket. his hand went right to where you needed it most. his thumb hovered over your clit, teasing you. he wanted you to beg for him.

after a few seconds of him not doing anything you gave in and whined out for him to do something! anything! he chuckled at you. deciding to not be mean, he pressed his thumb onto your clit, moving in smooth circles. you let out a shaky breath, still in shock at what was happening. "fuck.." he moved his thumb faster, aiming to get you close to your release but then taking it away before you could have it. the whine that left your throat filled him with pride.

he leaned close to you, inhaling your scent. his arms snuck under your thighs, holding them in a tight grip as he licked a long stripe through your folds. "oh shit!" your hand shot up to your mouth, wanting to try and be quiet for your neighbors. throwing the hat somewhere on the floor, your other hand went down to his head, your fingers getting tangled into his hair. you pressed his head closer to your core, desperately needing this release. his tongue was fucking magical. you came at an embarrassing speed. new record for him though!

he stood up, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth. he pulled you up by your arms, your head at his chest level. he instructed you to help him get undressed. you unbuttoned his shirt all the way, letting it fall to the ground as you stared at his body. you were drooling over him. you were actually drooling! you undid his belt and pulled his jeans down, leaving him in his boxers. he walked around to the side of the bed, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom.

he pulled his boxers off, letting his 'legendary' dick out. the rumors were definitely true.. he opened the packaging, sliding the condom on and climbing on the bed. he laid back, signaling for you to climb on top of him with his hands. you quickly shed your clothes before crawling onto him. you straddled his waist, lining him up with your hole, and sinking down on him. a deep groan fell from his lips, his eyes rolling back into his head. his hands instinctively went to your sides, guiding you up and down. your hands landed on his chest. his beautiful chest. he worked out almost all the time and it definitely paid off!

you rolled your hips, wanting to have some control over the situation. he quickly took over again. his hands held your hips down, showing which one of you was in charge. you rolled your eyes and leaned down, going straight for his neck. you left marks all over. claiming him as yours ─ at least in your mind. he thrust up into you, harshly bringing your hips down at the same time. loud moans filled the room (and your neighbors rooms..). you felt like you were gonna cum again, the familiar knot in your tummy returning for the second time that night. "'m gonna cum!!"

"yeah? go on, cum for me." that was all you needed to hear. your orgasm hit you like a bunch of bricks. your eyes squeezed shut and your legs tried to close around his waist. he finished soon after, pulling out to throw away the condom. he came back and cleaned you up, tucking you in and kissing your forehead as the two of you fell asleep.

you woke up the next morning confused as to why you were in his bed until you remembered the events from last night. you were the happiest you could ever be. you finally realized your feelings for your best friend and he realized his for you! you looked around for the said male, noticing the side of the bed he slept on was empty. you got up, grabbing his button up and throwing it on. you heard a voice as you got closer to the door. you knew it was tae and you assumed he was on the phone so you just stayed quiet and listened in.

"yeah, after the angel girl left i needed to fuck someone so i went with y/n. no! not at all, hah! just needed to get my dick wet." you couldn't believe what you were hearing. you thought last night was special! you thought you meant something to him! it broke your heart hearing this.. you two had been friends for years and last night was supposed to be the start of your relationship! you looked around his room, getting all your stuff except your panties, forgetting he had them and most likely hid them in a drawer with others. you opened the door as loudly as you could, trying to make yourself known. "oh.. i gotta go. see you later?" he hung up with whoever he was talking to and shoved his phone into his pocket. "morning, pretty." you just gave him a hum, trying to get to your room as fast as possible.

your bedroom door shut behind you, blocking out all the pain he caused. you threw your stupid costume on the floor and ran straight to your bathroom, needing to wash all the memories of the previous night away. you scrubbed and scrubbed in the shower, tears falling down your face as you realized how stupid your were. you leaned against the wall, sinking to the ground. how could you be so stupid?

[thatanimewriter]

WERE WE NOT ALREADY A COUPLE?

➳ synopsis: they ask you to be their s/o but you were under a different impression

➳ character/s: ootori kyoya, fujioka haruhi, morinozuka takashi

➳ warnings: swearing

➳ notes: i love ohshc to the ends of the earth and i will die for mori he is my husband, i wish he was real-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  

── 𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐘𝐀.

his eyes followed you as you wandered the floors of the music room, mingling with the hosts as you prepared for the ball. kyoya admired the way you seemed to glide across the room, and even better, you were actually doing work while you talked! not doing... whatever tamaki is doing in the corner.

he had to suppress a smile when you turned to face him as he called your name. the sunset that peeked through the windows illuminated your face perfectly and it was then that he decided he’d ask you to be his partner.

it probably would have been more romantic if you hadn’t gotten the wrong idea.

he knew he couldn’t do it with the other hosts around, because who knew if the twins or tamaki would just eavesdrop, so he needed to think of an excuse, to go with you somewhere private. thankfully, there was an order that had arrived that evening that he offered to join you in collecting.

walking through the courtyard, he stopped by the fountain, the water reflections gently creating patterns against his cheek. you looked at him strangely, wondering why he’d paused. kyoya took in the image of you in the sunset, the patterns of the water decorating your skin.

after considering going on a rant about how amazing you were and whatever, he decided to make it short, sharp and shiny.

‘would you do me the honours of becoming my partner?’ he asked, eyeing your expression to gauge your answer.

‘...were we not already a couple?’

‘are you fucking serious-’

── 𝐅𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐇𝐈.

she knew you were oblivious, but she didn’t think you’d jump the gun. throughout her time at ouran, you were probably the most tolerable person and she often found herself hanging back after club with you, possibly drinking tea or coffee and conversing with you about god knows what.

as you stood in the corner of the ballroom by the snack table, haruhi began to think about confessing to you. i mean, you’d really made the connection over her time in the host club and she honestly found you the best company out of everyone there.

however, things were never simple, because the moment she opened her mouth to say something, a girl came up to her to ask if she would dance with her. cautiously, haruhi looked to you to make sure that you were fine with being left alone, to which you nodded with a smile.

as she floated around the dance floor, she though about what she wanted to say to you, finding it easier than she’d thought because the girl she was dancing with was so star struck she never spoke.

when she returned, she smiled to see you still waiting for her.

‘hey,’ she began, ‘i was wondering that since we’ve been friends for a while and we’ve really connected, did you possibly want to... start dating?’ your wide, panicked eyes made her worried, and she quickly backtracked. ‘it’s ok if you don’t want to-’

‘were we not already a couple?’ you asked, intense confusion written all over your face.

haruhi paused for a second, taking in your reaction before mirroring it. ‘no?’

── 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈.

he was aware you knew about his feelings for you, but something must’ve been lost in translation. he was 100% sure you knew because mitsukuni accidentally spat it out in front of you during a game. he was maybe 60% sure you liked him back because you got closer after that.

mori always loved that you came to every tournament he had, and yet again, there you were by the entrance to the locker rooms after the match, drink bottle and towel in hand. affectionately ruffling your hair, he took the items from you and went into the locker rooms to wash up and change.

he returned your smile as he exit the room, walking beside you to leave the building. the moonlight softly highlighted your features and he couldn’t help but stare when you turned around to get into your limo.

‘are you ok?’ you asked, noting his dazed state.

he hummed a yes and you nodded, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your head into his body as he reciprocated the affection. gently pulling away, you turned to hop into the vehicle, but his grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

looking at him in attempt to read his expression, you cocked your head to the side, silently prompting him to speak.

‘did you want to go out tomorrow night?’ he offered bluntly.

you beamed at him and he gently let go of your wrist. ‘yeah, sure! what did you want to do? go to dinner, walk in the park?’

‘not as friends, as a date,’ he clarified, and you frowned at him.

‘yeah? so did you want to go for dinner or somethin’ else?’ you reiterated.

mori stared at you blankly, waiting in silence for you to say something else, but it never came. ‘i’m trying to ask you out, to be my partner.’

you looked at him weirdly. ‘were we not already a couple?’ you said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. chuckling, mori ruffled your hair again, opening the limo door for you.

‘i’ll pick you up at 8.’

‘no, you tell me what the fuck we’re doin-’

[gemini-sensei]

Reader is popular but Demetri has a huge crush on her but somehow they end up having sex and Reader is really surprised because he is like a sex god and she's never had sex that good before

This dynamic 🤤🤤 it's my shit

Demetri Alexopoulos x Popular!Chubby!Reader

CW: monstercock!Demetri, mean girl!Reader, rough sex, multiple orgasms, mating press, begging, pet names: good/pretty girl, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. (unedited)

"Oh my god," Yasmine sneers, her eyes narrowing as she looked down the hall. "Look at that geek."

Reader turns her head and giggles as she sees the one and only Demetri Alexopoulos walking their way. As he walks down the hall, he carries a large box diorama in his arms. It's decorated like an old room and filled with little painted figures inside. He's obviously recreated some historical event, but what really catches the girls' eyes is the costume he carries over his shoulder that matches his project. He holds his head up, clearly proud of his work, and the whole thing gives off big nerd energy.

Reader covers her mouth, hiding her laugh fairly obviously. "Oh wow."

"There's no way he's not a virgin," Yasmine whispers, her smile mean and wicked. She gives Demetri an uninterested look and speaks louder so he hears her. "No girl would ever want to fuck a guy like that."

He looks over, his bright expression dampening. His eyes dart between Reader and Yasmine, but settle on Reader in anticipation for her reaction.

Reader frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. She gives him a look up and down, then scoffs. "Right? What a nerd."

He cast his eyes down and he turns away, giving them the shoulder as if ignoring them. However, he can't. The girls are laughing behind his back even though he's right there. He hears them, but walks away.

😈😈😈

Reader twirls her pencil as she stares off into space, hardly paying attention to her science teacher. There are better things to think about than boring old science; it isn't as if any of that stuff has anything to do with her anyway. She watches the clouds roll by, that is until she hears the teacher call her name.

The class is getting paired off for research papers. It has to do with something about nature and climate change, but she hadn't been paying too much attention to all that when the teacher explained it. She's hoping to get paired up with someone super smart so she didn't have to do too much of the work.

"You'll be working with Mr. Alexopoulos."

Score! she thinks, a self-satisfied smile stretching over her lips. She looks over at Demetri, who is in the middle of turning bright red. Bringing her hand up, she flutters her fingers at him, laughing when his blush intensified. What my luck! A total nerd to do this little paper for me.

The bell rings overhead and everyone jumps up to leave. Reader takes her time, watching Demetri put away his notes, then she stands and walks over to his table. He looks up at her and his mouth falls open, as if he's staring at precious jewel. He doesn't say anything, which is perfectly fine with Reader.

"We can work on this whole paper over at my place," she tells him in a sugary sweet tone. She knows she should slather the sweetness on him after this morning's announcement of his virgin status. So she bats her eyelashes at him and smiles. "That's okay with you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally fine with me," he stammers. He stands up and bumps his knee into the table in the process. He winces, but shakes it off fairly quickly as Reader laughs at his misfortune. He tries to play it cool. "Whatever you want."

"Do you drive?" she asks.

"No..." he answers lamely.

"That's okay," she assures him, smiling up at him. "Just me in the parking lot after school and we can go get it over with."

"Okay, see you..." She turns away sharply and walks to the door. He stares after her, starstruck. "...after school."

😈😈😈

Hours laters, Demetri finds himself sitting in Reader's bedroom. It's spacious, with enough room for a large bed and a little coffee table set up with a sofa in the corner. He has his textbook clutched in his lap and all his notes scattered about the table as he sits with her on the small couch. Their knees are touching and it's distracting him because it only serves to remind him how close she is.

For a girl that's super popular, she's actually pretty smart. Correction, he's learned that she only acts dumb in school. When he caught on to her hints for him to do all the work himself, he shut it down as nicely as possible, and then she had no problem jumping in and typing up some notes while he read from the textbook. He can't help watching her work, even though it was just some keystrokes on her laptop.

"This is so boring," she moans, setting her laptop down as they got to the end of the chapter.

She leans back and stretches her legs out. He can't help watching, his eyes dragging long her legs. She catches him looking and smirks, deciding to tease him a little. After all, it's obvious to her that he has a crush on her. She shimmies and stretches, making her dress ride up and expose more of her thighs. Then she stands up and continues to stretch, bending over to touch her toes, knowing her dress is a little too high...

Demetri gasps as he sees her panties between her thick thighs. He adverts his eyes, his cheeks warming up. He doesn't know if he's supposed to say anything or not, but in the meantime, his pants grow tight under the textbook.

Then his mind goes back to that morning. What an embarrassment to be called out as a virgin! He wants to set the record straight.

"i'm not a virgin, you know," he blurts out.

She turns to him, startled that he said anything about the topic at all. It wasn't exactly the topic of their previous discussion, and certainly not where she thought her teasing was going. "What?"

"I'm not a virgin like Yasmine said. I... I've had sex before."

She stares at him, still in a state of shock. Then she stands tall and crosses her arms over her chest. "Oh yeah? And who have you had sex with?"

"Well, I really shouldn't divulge that specific information..."

She scoffs and laughs at him. "Oh man, you're such a liar."

"I'm not lying."

"Then prove it."

He tosses the textbook aside and before she can see the sizable bulge in his pants, he pulls her down onto his lap. She gasps as she feels it press against her while he has her straddle his thigh. Then he pulls her in for a kiss. It's hard and has something to prove, which is quickly accomplished when as he puts his hand on the back of her neck and deepens the kiss. His tongue in her mouth before she really has time to think about it, and then he's sucking on hers as soon as she's processed everything else.

She's moaning and grinding down on his thigh, a wet patch quickly forming on her panties and transferring onto his jeans. She holds onto him for stability, his shirt clutched in her hands tightly.

He pulls away from her, leaving her tongue to hang out of her mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting it to his lips before it break. He tears his shirt off, ripping it from her hands and leaving her with nothing but his bare chest to hold on to.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he told her, voice husky and panting. It sends shivers up her spine and she does as told, at which point he wraps one arm around her waist and his opposite hand grabs her ass. Then he stands up and she squeals, her arms tightening around him. He grunts into her ear, "I've got you, pretty girl."

As he carries her over to the bed, she things, Who are you and what have you done with Demetri?

Then she's dropped onto the bed and she bounces on top of her fluffy duvet. She looks up at Demetri and sees his darkened eyes, her pussy clenching around nothing. In the following instant, his hands are under her dress and pushing it up, grabbing and groping at her pudgy belly and fat tits. She moans and whines as he rubs his thumbs over her nipples, then roughly pulling her dress over her head.

His eyes drink in her nearly nude figure and she lays out for him, enjoying having his eyes on her. She undoes her bra and throws it away, letting her panties follow.

"Good girl," he tells her. He undoes his belt and jeans, shoving them off with his boxers, wasting no time. He smirks when she gasps at the sight of his cock. "Like what you see?"

She whimpers, closing her legs. "I-I don't know if that'll fit."

He gets onto the bed with her and crawls over her. He dives down to capture her lips with his and she moans, throwing her arms around him. His cock head bumps her wet folds and she jumps, but he lets it slide over her entrance slowly. He lays his cock on her belly as they make out, his hips pressed against hers.

When he pulls away, she looks down at his cock as she whimpers. "It's so big."

"Are you saying no?"

She looks up at him, then shakes her head.

"Then trust me. It'll fit," he assures her, then smirks. "Especially after I get a taste of you."

He then proceeds to move down her body, leaving ghosts of kisses along her skin. She whines with need as he teases her, kissing her inner thighs and over her hips before diving between her legs. When he throws her legs over his shoulders and buries his face in her cunt, she gasps softly, then moans as his tongue laps at her wet folds.

She reaches down to put a hand in his hair, gripping tightly at the dark strands as a suggestion to slow down. It's one he doesn't take and she says nothing of it as she sighs with pleasure, tugging on his hair as he slips his tongue in and out of her. He's groaning lowly each time she pulls on his hair and it only drives him to eat her out better, eventually getting to the point that it's a sloppy, noisy mess happening between her cunt and his tongue.

He makes her come hard and doesn't even stop tongue fucking her, seeing her through her orgasm so that he can quickly bring her to another one. When she squirts the second time, he lets his mouth hang open to catch as much of it as he can, then he's sitting back on his knees to look down at her.

Reader is a glorious panting mess under him, glistening wet between her legs and all over her thighs. He runs his hand over her pussy lips, spreading her wetness all over and getting it all over his hand before he strokes his cock. He watches the rise and fall of her chest as she watches him lube himself up with her essence. Knowing her eyes are on him turns him on that much more and he comes to sit between her legs, rubbing the head of his cock between her wet folds. He makes her whine and whimper when he hits it against her swollen clit and he smiles down at her.

"Please, please put it in," she whimpers under him. Her hips push up to seek out more friction from his cock. "Please..."

"Are you begging for me?"

She stays quiet for a moment before nodding. "Yes."

"Good girl," he mutters, making her hole clenches around nothing. "Beg some more."

"Please, Demetri, I need you," she cries out, pathetically trying to rut her hips up to his. All it does is make rub her cunt over his length. "Please fuck me. Please please please."

He bites his lips as he watches her, then grabs behind her knees and pushes them up to put her legs over his shoulders. She whines as he slowly drags his cock over her pussy until the tip comes to her wet, open lips. Pre cum leaks from his slit and smears over hole, making his groan. Unable to tease her or himself any longer, he pushes the head in and watches it sink into her needy and tight cunt. It pops in and he feels like she's trying to strangle his tip.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunts, but continues to push into her. All Reader can do is moan under him, clawing at the bedsheets. He pulls out a few inches and pushes them back into her, working her open so she can take his whole cock. He does that ever so often, watching her cunt stretch around his thick length. "Feels so good. Do you feel good, Reader?"

She nods with a soft, low whine. Her fists are clenched tight with the bedsheets as she feels him sink into her further and further. She's watching the point where they're connected, already panting hard as her walls squeeze around his shaft. It's so big, she feels him reaching depths she had no idea were actually possible.

When he reaches the half way point, he starts trusting in order to work the rest of himself into her. He take ahold of her knees again and pushes them down to her chest. She squeals and he feels her open up for him just a little more, so he pushes into her until his hips meet her ass.

"Oh my god!" she lets out. Her legs are shaking and she reaches up for him, only able to grab his hands that are hooked behind her knees. She feels him in her guts and butted up against her cervix, making her babble almost incoherently. "Do fuckin' deep. You're gonna destroy me... Fuck me up..."

"I'm gonna ruin you for any other cock," Demetri grunts. He stays still, letting her get used to the feeling of his big, fat cock stretching her out and reaching so deep. "You're not gonna want anyone else, pretty girl."

He slips a hand from under her grip and reaches down to grope and squeeze her tit. She moans and tries to wiggle under him, but he has her folded in half and pressed into the mattress tight. As he toys with her nipple, her eyes roll up and her cunt gushes warm arousal. With that, he starts to pull back, only a few inches, before slamming back into her.

She screams as he batters her poor cervix, as if trying to beat it open. His pace is hard, but not too rough. It's well paced and even, allowing any changes should she ask for them; either to slow down or be gentle. Despite his dominance and need to prove her wrong, she felt secure under him. If anything, the position he had her in made her feel so safe - she didn't have to do anything but take it. There was something so glorious about it.

As he fucks her, it's loud. Her cunt continues to gush slick and make loud squelching sounds as he pushes in and out of her. She's screaming and trembling under him, his balls slapping against her ass as her thighs shake. She doesn't even try to be quiet, not that anyone else is around to hear. It only means she can't hear his low grunts as he watches his length disappear in her fat cunt.

She's so close already, the vein running along his shaft rubbing against her g-spot with each thrust. Her poor clit sits swollen and throbbing as he fucks her, unable to do anything about it. She wants to, but her brain is too foggy to think about touching herself, let alone actually doing it. All she can do is lay there and cry out for Demetri to make her come.

" 'm so close! Please, please, I wanna come! Please make me come, Dem! Please please please!"

He licks his lips, watching her hazy eyes. He tweaks her nipple and makes her yelp. "You wanna come?"

She nodded vigorously, whining loudly.

He drags his hand down her body, groping at her soft belly as he makes his ways down to her clit. He presses his thumb into it and rubs fast circles into it, making her cry out loudly. She struggles to try and move with the jolts of pleasure, but soon comes to a stop as it only takes a few strokes to her bundle of nerve to make her come.

Her body quakes under him, her head thrown back as she calls out his name. her orgasm washes over her, making a wet mess between them as she creams over his fat cock. It makes a thick ring around his back and clings to her stretched out pussy lips, adding a loud smack-smack-smack to the song being made between their bodies.

Accompanied by her hoarse voice screaming his name with a chorus of yeses.

Velvet walls constrict around him, her cervix puckering as she tries to milk him dry. It's enough to push him over the edge.

He makes two hard thrusts and bottoms out in her tight, clenching cunt before he falls apart. He presses himself against her harshly, groaning her name as his heavy balls draw up and his thighs tremble. He comes inside her, watching her blissed out face as she gasps at the first torrent of his hot cum filling her.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, good girl. My fucking pretty girl. Take my cum. Fucking take it," he grunts, then leans down to kiss her. He squishes her thighs into her soft belly and she moans, but he eats it up as he presses his lips to hers. She reaches up and grabs the back of his neck, whining into his mouth. He mumbles hotly, "Take me so well, pretty girl."

There kiss doesn't late long, as they're panting messes and need the air. He can feel the way he's filled her with a hefty load, some of it leaking out around the tight seal around his cock and dripping down his balls. As it all comes to an end, he starts to pull out of her and more of their mixed cum gushes out of her Once the tip of his cock pops out, it's like a waterfall that makes a puddle under her ass. He just eases her legs down and starts massaging her sore thighs and hips.

"How was that for the supposed virgin?" he asks.

She hums, looking up at him as he awaits her answer. All she can muster up is a smile and a feeble "totally not a virgin...."

Then she looks down at her gaping, stuffed full hole. All she can see is her cum covered thighs and mound, feeling the way it twitches from the intense fuck she just had.

"You came inside me..."

His hands continue to work into her pudgy thighs, his lip caught between his lip as he drops his eyes to her used cunt. Another fat glob of his cum leaks out and he scoops it up with his fingers before pushing it back into her. "And?"

She moans, "I could get pregnant."

He can't help grinning. "Good. Let everyone see how good I fuck you."

Her hole clenches around his fingers and he chuckles. He leans over her and kisses her, pulling his digits from her sensitive pussy. Gathering her up in his arms, he pulls her close and lays with her on top of him. They make out on her bed, knowing good and well this won't be the only time they do this.

[3minsover]

AUgust Day 28:

loose 27 dresses au - perpetually single steve has been a groomsman more times than he can remember. school friends, college pals, colleagues, family members, they all want him. after having attended 3 weddings in a day, watching couple after couple profess their everlasting love for each other, steve decides to head to a bar, and get DRUNK.

there, he meets eddie: charming, sexy, quick-witted and more than a match as a drinking companion. the night passes in shades of beer, whisky and tequila, and as they talk, steve shares his honestly ridiculous wedding stats. eddie is fascinated, encourages steve to talk more, to send him photos of each wedding he’s been part of this year; steve thinks he’s met the One.

over the next few weeks, they date, and steve feels himself falling, finally. until an article pops up in his favorite magazine, written by a columnist that had usually, until now, remained anonymous. it’s simply titled:

Always the Groomsman, Never the Groom: Are Some People Just Not Meant For a Happy Ending?

written by eddie munson.

steve manages to read the first paragraph before he starts feeling sick. he can’t believe that eddie, sweet, lovely, kind eddie, could have used him like this, could have published it. steve feels himself blushing furiously as he stashes the magazine in his bag and heads straight for eddie’s apartment. he paces outside for a full minute before knocking, and then holds up the page in the magazine accusatorially. eddie greets him with a broad smile at first, which dissolves when he spots steve’s tear stained cheeks and distraught expression.

“why would you write this?” steve demands, failing to keep his voice from shaking. eddie’s brow furrows.

“what- what do you mean?”

“not meant for a happy ending?” steve quotes, throat thick. it’s embarrassing to even say the words aloud, let alone to the person who wrote them, about him. steve’s grip on the magazine trembles as he clutches at his nerve.

“steve,” eddie starts slowly. he swallows hard. “steve, did you read the whole thing?”

“don’t think i needed to, did i? i think it was perfectly clear what you were getting at.” steve stares at the floor between their feet, betrayed, heartbroken, lost.

eddie carefully takes the magazine from him and begins to speak, eyes flicking up nervously every couple seconds.

“so no, i don’t think everyone is meant to have a happy ending. but i do think everyone deserves one. and no one as much as steve. i just hope, and maybe it’s a wild dream to have, but i hope i can be the one to give him that.” eddie winces a little as he looks up once more, meeting steve’s watery gaze. “i should have told you i was writing that story. i’m sorry.”

steve snatches the magazine back, hardly daring to believe eddie’s words unless he sees them printed in black and white.

and there they are.

“i thought you were- i thought i- oh my god.” steve tips forward, gripping the magazine in one hand and the front of eddie’s shirt in the other. “did you mean it?” eddie smiles softly, cupping steve’s cheeks in both palms.

“course i did, stevie. you deserve it. and i wanna be the one to give it to you, if you’ll have me.”

steve can’t prevent the giddy chuckle that escapes his throat. all the heartbreak is but a memory, fading into insignificance against the brilliant light of his happy ending, growing brighter by the second.

“promise you won’t write anything else about me without my knowledge?” he asks, arching one brow. eddie guides steve’s face closer to his own, until their lips are almost brushing.

“i promise. with one exception, yknow, once we’re at that point. i’m gonna keep my vows a secret.”

and that’s an exception steve is more than happy to make.

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

Riding George but he’s still dominant >>>

pairing: george daniel x f!reader

content: riding, george being a cocky fuck, annoying matty

wordcount: 1668

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: everyone say thank you mads (@hereyeswerefilledwiththestars) for beta reading this and being incredibly patient with my incompetence towards technology

george's neighbours probably hate you.

his thin apartment walls do nothing to muffle the sounds you're making as he bounces you on his cock.

"look at me, keep those eyes on me," he says while he steadies you, gathering a fistful of your hair while cradling the back of your head, watching with hungry eyes as you shatter to pieces.

as your hips move progressively faster, he allows you control once you find a rhythm that sends sparks down your thighs.

"god, you're fuckin' perfect, sweetheart." 

each cry that tears from your lips is needy and keening - only broken as the grip on your hips tightens to pull you up and off his cock, only to yank you back down again. below, the couch shudders, short and blocky legs screeching as it lurches over the ground.

the bluster of noise is almost perfectly in time with those that he rips so mercilessly from you. it’s pathetic and embarrassing, but you are too far gone to care.

the hand that's not in your hair slips up your front to grope at your chest, slipping underneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts, tempted to rip the thin fabric off and sink his teeth into your skin.

the feeling of his rough hands on you makes you collapse into his broad chest.

”that’s my girl,” he chuckles.

heat creeps up your neck at the praise, his words sending shivers down your spine.

george bucks into you hard, his iron-like grip forcing you down on his cock to match his steady thrusts, hitting that delicious spot inside of you more times than you could ever count.

another strangled whine tears from your lips as his cock plunges into your ruined cunt again. no matter how many times the two of you fuck, you always feel the slight burn of too much when taking him in. he fills you to the hilt every time without even trying. you can swear that he’s lodged so firmly in you that you can feel every last pulse of arousal throbbing through his leaking cock.

and he is already - leaking. smeared with the bead of precum that the pump of his hand has since spread. it felt hot and sticky back upon first entering you tonight. you couldn’t stop yourself from sliding a hand down between your trembling legs, fingertip fumbling as it circled where his length split you apart. it gathered the mix of slick and cum so that you could put it between your lips and moan at how good you both tasted together.

it’s still tart on your tongue now. palpable with each gasp and rush of air that hitches through you. with a sound akin to a growl, george yanks your hair up, forcing you to face him as his lips whisper against your temple, down the side of your face, nipping along your jaw.

desperate to feel his lips on yours, you turn your mouth to seek his. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. he kisses like he wants to rip the air from your lungs, and so he does. all that you can do is return it - open-mouthed and sloppy as you pant against him. 

eventually, you have to break for air.

the inhale almost hurts, but it cuts off as george's hand slides up to grip your throat. 

your eyes shoot open in surprise and your jaw drops in a silent gasp. your expression has george smirking, and satisfaction bleeds from his tone as he whispers again, teeth catching the skin on your throat.

"you like that? when i fuck you hard?"

there's heat coursing through your veins and you nod helplessly at his words. you're tight around him and his heated words make it worse. the edge is so, so close.

all you need is a little bit more. 

george's fingers flex around your throat and it's getting harder to breathe. your head is spinning, you can barely keep your eyes open, and your only thoughts are of him.

pressure wells up inside you, and it's mere inches away. you can practically taste your climax it's so close.

your whines and gasps are getting louder and louder, and you're about to finish as - 

his phone rings. his fucking phone rings.

the noise is splintering - loud and insistent and screechy. 

george's grip around your throat lessens, and your hips stutter.

"fuck," george curses, out of breath and flushed. "i have to get that."

weak protests begin falling from your lips, but it's hopeless as he's already reaching around you to grab his phone from the side table.

to your surprise, he presses the phone to his ear with one hand and yanks you back down on his cock with the other - hard.

"it's george," he grunts.

a cry rips from your throat at the cruel movements he forces your hips to make. immediately, his hand slaps over your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

"nah, i can talk now," he says, grinning at you. "'m not busy."

you glower at him, eyes dark. annoyance pulses in the air and he seems to sense it, lips quirking further apart, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

god. smug bastard.

suddenly, there's a sharp pain in his palm as you nip the inside of his hand. shocked, his hand yanks back from you, and his eyes narrow. 

smirking, you adjust yourself on his cock, and drag yourself up and down on your own volition. 

jaw clenching, his encouraging fingers stroke your thigh before falling to roll against your clit.

"mate, the track sounds fine," george mutters into the phone, voice sounding gruff. "you don't need to add anything. matty i-"

he stutters over his words as you grind down harder. it feels like heaven to you, but george doesn’t squirm or let out any noise underneath your touch. a low growl of annoyance tears from your throat, but it’s mixed in with something desperate and pleading. 

while matty rants unintelligibly over the phone, you roll yourself over george harder. it doesn't do much - he can be so fucking determined when he wants to be. and you’re so close.

"come on, doll," george whispers, with a hand muffling his words from the frantic singer on the other end of the line. "make me feel it."

he's completely unbothered. cocky grin permanently plastered on his face as you fall apart on him. by the way that he’s talking to matty, you wouldn’t be able to tell that his cock is so deep in you that you can feel him in your stomach.

“hang up,” you tell him - something fiery washing over you. “now, george.”

his brow arches tauntingly.

your hand shoots forward, ripping the phone from his ear and cutting off matty's rambling. george starts in surprise, but before he can protest, you’re leaning forward - hands wrapping around his throat tightly. 

now you get a reaction. his dark eyes, despite being unfocused, are shocked and wide. your grip tightens on his neck - teeth gritted in determination. exaggeratedly, your hips roll over him again. 

that’s when george finally cracks. the groan he lets out is filled with heat and promise, and it sends shivers through your body.

“if you’re going to do it,” he warns softly, the tip of his tongue poking out to run over his bottom lip, “do it properly.”

fuck. it's impossible to say no to him.

his mouth hangs open slightly as you work your rhythm, your hands trailing down to the bottom of his shirt, slipping your fingers underneath to lay your palms against his abdomen, a thumb scratching through his dark happy trail. he grunts at the sting of pain, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on the view of your unabashed pleasure. 

ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, clutching your hips hard, thrusting up harshly with ferocity to stretch you out further on his cock. 

whining louder, you clutched ahold of him even tighter, feeling the familiar, sharp, blooming tingle of your orgasm trickling closer and closer, like thick, water-diluted honey.

george grips the back of your neck to pull you into a heated kiss, swallowing your gasps and moans.

the moment your band snaps, george releases his hold on your hair to instead grope at your thighs, feeling them violently tremble while you wail.

but he doesn't stop. he couldn't stop. his forehead is stuck to yours while his hands move your hips.

red blooms up your neck, staining your cheeks. tears are flowing freely, and your brow is furrowed as you struggle to hold onto any composure you have left as he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly once more, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. 

just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, leaving you wondering why before he grabs your jaw to tug you closer, his mouth attaching to your neck, teeth sinking into your throat.

your fingers rush to his hair, tugging on him hard enough to snap his head back against the headrest. smothering his mouth with yours immediately, your teeth nip at his bottom lip.

finally, he tenses below you. his breath hitches in a low, throaty growl as thick, hot ropes of cum spill into you, filling and tainting you. george's nails leave dark marks as they dig into the meat of your thighs, sitting you firmly back down, burying himself in deep, your waist securely pressed against his. you let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath.

"fuck you're amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, voice tired and raspy. “so fucking good.” 

“but i really have to go and call matty back now.”

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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours

[gelus-ugs]

Reki/Langa with a s/o who has a good fashion sense

—————————————————————

RekixReader, LangaxReader, & Poly! RengaxReader

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Reki Kyan

He loves it

He always looks forward to hanging out because he knows you’ll look great

He loves your creativity and the way you express yourself through fashion

You don’t even have just one style either, you constantly switch and you look good no matter what you have on

He absolutely loves seeing the outfits you come up with

Sometimes he asks you to chose his outfits so he can look good too B)

If there’s anything special going on and he can’t wear his usual hoodie w/ jeans, he’s immediately going to you

You know how to hook him up 😮‍💨

He always takes photos of you bc he wants to cherish every badass fit you have on

He’s always praising you and he brags about you to everyone

“Oh yeah? Well can your significant other actually dress and look good in everything?”

He’s your #1 fan

Have a social media where you post your outfits? Oh god, it’s over

You’re going to have a spam of notifications just from him alone commenting on/liking your posts

He lowkey made a fanpage of you and posts videos/photos he takes of you 🤦🏾‍♂️

Mf started a whole fanbase n everything

Langa Hasegawa

He’s so proud to have you as a s/o

You’re just so..attractive

And he’s just so..meh 😃 (in his opinion)

Y’all both are the power couple

He’s naturally pretty and you’re so attractive and have good style

You decide to pick out matching outfits for y’all? It’s all over

Everyone stops and stares bc y’all are so damn attractive and fit together perfectly

Y’all run a social media page together where you post pics with the two of y’all and every single post goes v i r a l

Y’all fit together so well, and everyone knows it too

Langa takes secret photos of you all the time bc you’re so captivating

He’ll stare at the photos whenever he’s not with you because he’s obsessed with you<3

Poly! Renga

They have no idea how the hell they managed to get you as a s/o, but they’re so greatful they did

Reki and Langa are your hype boys

They’re both obsessed with you and it’s so cute

Reki is constantly complimenting you and is all over you, the blush on his cheeks forever there

Langa just stares at you with a fond smile on his face like a lovesick puppy

They love when you pick out their outfits - matching or not - because they know they’re gonna look fuckin amazing

When you post something on social media, Reki and Langa compete to see who can comment quicker 💀

Your notifs are just FILLED with Reki and Langa hyping you up

But they both do it differently

Reki is the type to use all caps and a whole bunch of emojis

“YESSS SLAYYY 🫶🏽🫶🏽”

“THATS MY BABY RIGHT THERE ❤️❤️”

Langa is more chill with it, and compliments you

“You look amazing :))”

“I love your outfit, like always ❤️”

The two of them collectively make a fanpage of you and post photos/videos they take of you

People legitimately got concerned cuz they began to think that you had a stalker 💀

When the three of you go out with matching outfits? The public is done for

Y’all are so powerful together

Reki is cute, Langa is pretty, and you’re hot and confident

All three of y’all go together so well and everyone is like “DAAAAAMN 👀”

[nikethestatue]

Plot Twist

for my darling beautiful hilariously funny kind and irreverent @impossiblescissorspeachpaper

Happy birthday, my love! I hope you find this familiar and enjoy this gift. This also goes to @tswaney17 because she is the star of this. And all the girlies!

Based on a true story

There he was. The most beautiful man in the world. 

Strong and lean. Muscular. Powerful legs steadily pumping the pedals. Thighs of a Greek god. Arms of a Roman god. Face worthy of a Raphael’s painting. 

He was so handsome, she wanted to cry.

He also paid her exactly zero attention.

She loved this trail and has been jogging around the pond, the hilly slopes, the grassy knolls, and the paths shaded by massive cypresses and oaks for two years now. Bicyclists, frankly, were usually nothing but a nuisance. They sort of tried to stick to their side of the path, but it was like they were just so very important they expected everyone to move and give way. 

Well, she was Elain fucking Archeron, and she wasn’t moving for nobody!

Beep.

Beep-beep.

Beeeeeppp.

She pretended not to hear the annoying sound of the bike bell, but then someone was shouting ‘On your left!’ and she made a panicked swerve to avoid being hit by the cyclist. 

“Dipshit,” her sister Nesta muttered next to her, throwing daggers at the cyclists’ backs, as they rolled smoothly past the two sisters.

“T!” Elain muttered in turn, blushing. 

Nesta, who usually went by T, because she felt that her name was too weird for an average American to comprehend, was sharp and bristly, and would’ve been perfectly fine getting into a shouting match for a bunch of muscular bikers. Elain was…well, not cowardly exactly, but she preferred to think of herself as rational. Yes, she was a rational person who did get into fights with strangers.

She just ogled them.

This one particular stranger.

Pulling her AirPods out of her ears, Nesta threw Elain a withering glance and said, without slowing down, while Elain was beginning to pant.

“Why don’t you just approach him?”

“No way!” Elain exclaimed in horror. “I am not approaching strange men in parks!”

Nesta rolled her eyes and then gritted out,

“Can’t you think of something? Not weird, but just…friendly?”

“No!” Elain wiped her brow, as she attempted to keep pace with her more athletic sister. “Because it’s always weird. It’s like that scene from ‘Get Hard’, where they go to the gay bar brunch and Kevin Hart is instructing Will Ferrell on how to approach a man and ask him to suck dick! And Will Ferrell is like ‘Oh hi, hello. Can I…uh…can I suck your dick?’...”

Nesta was laughing. Elain was ridiculous, but also adorable in her inability to approach men, have conversations with them, or even look at them without being painfully obvious. Elain, her sweet sister, who was pretty as a peony, smart and funny, who wrote excellent fanfiction for her favourite series ‘A Court of Thorns and Roses’ and was a superstar on AO3, who volunteered at dog shelters, and dreamt of brooding dark dominant men, who’d come into her life and sweep her off her feet–Elain had no game. None. 

Nesta wasn’t exactly surprised that the idea of approaching the biking hunk was abhorrent to Elain. She’d never even consider it. 

“Well, it’s that, or Tinder,” Nesta shrugged, her expression somehow fatalistic.

Elain shuddered and shook her head vigorously.

“Why?!” she demanded. “Why can’t I just meet a good man and fall in love,”

“You don’t want to fall in love with a good man,” Nesta argued. “You want to fall in love with a bad boy with knuckle tattoos!”

“No I don’t,” Elain argued prissily, though she was blushing ferociously, and Nesta knew that she hit the spot. “Why would I want someone like that?!”

“Why? Because you think that Zade Meadows is a romantic. And your Pinterest is filled with hot dudes with knuckle tattoos. You literally have a board named ‘Hot Dudes with Tattoos’.”

Elain stared at her sister in abject horror.

“You snooped??!?!” she screeched. “You snooped on my Pinterest?!!?”

“Simmer down. It’s not like I went through your PornHub history! Jeez,” Nesta shook her head.

“I don’t have a PornHub history!” Elain exclaimed.

They were standing in the shade, and Nesta was stretching her long, slender limbs. She didn’t need to stop, but her less fit sister definitely did. Therefore, Nesta pretended like she needed to massage her hamstring and roll her shoulders. 

“El, you need to go after what you want,” Nesta insisted. She knew the conversation was pointless and Elain never would, but it didn’t hurt to remind her. “Listen, you are a 30 year old virgin,”

“I am not a virgin!” Elain’s eyes popped out of their sockets in righteous indignation.

Nesta cocked her brow and put her hands on her hips.

“Uh-uh,”

“Yes! No! I am not a virgin! Also, I am not 30!” Elain yelled. “I am not a virgin!”

Two things happened.

The hot cyclist, and his posse, were just below them, resting and drinking, parked at the curve of the road. Elain’s shouting about the state of her hymen to the whole world solicited sniggers and chuckles, and the hot dude lifted his head and looked up. 

Nesta could see the appeal–he was handsome indeed. Excellent body. A smirk on his lips–which she felt was warranted–as he looked at her sister, while Elain was about to explode where she stood. The rest of the cyclists saluted them, grinning and laughing, and got on their way, while the Hot One lingered behind. He was staring upward, his eyes skimming over Elain’s voluptuous body, gliding over her ample chest and her long slender legs.

The second thing that happened was Elain scrambled backwards, gasping like a fish out of water, staring at him in horror. Before Nesta could make a snide remark about hoping that the Hot One was up for the challenge of deflowering a virgin, Elain tripped on the rocks, slipped and fell on her ass. Her leg shot out in front of her, pushing on a large rock, which skidded down the path and bounced against the dry slope. It was like watching a murder in slow motion. They all saw it. Elain–arms outstretched in silent horror. Nesta, her hand flying to her mouth, while screaming ‘look out’ and then the Hot One being knocked on the head by the rock.

“OHMYGOD!!!!!!!!” Elain screamed violently. “I killed him!”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Nesta took off at once, running as fast as she could down the path, with Elain flailing her arms and hurrying behind her. 

“Is he dead?” Elain wailed loudly, “I killed him!”

“Fuck, I hope not,” Nesta muttered to herself. 

They finally reached the man, who was splayed on the dirt path, arms out, head bleeding.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Elain clucked incessantly, watching him in horror.

“Yeah, he is gonna need some help,” Nesta decided.

“Am I going to prison? For murder?” Elain cried.

“Well, let’s see if he is dead,”

“He can’t be dead!”

Callously, Nesta murmured, “could be dead…”

“T! What the hell!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been announcing to the world that you are a freakin’ virgin and none of this would’ve happened!”

Elain dropped to her knees in front of the man and pushed her face to his chest, and her fingers to his neck, feeling and listening for his heartbeat.

“I am not a virgin!” she grumbled angrily.

“Yeah?” Nesta demanded. “And what are you?”

“I’ve had sex!”

“With who?”

“Men! With lots of men!”

“Yeah, okay Mata Hari,”

“He is alive!” Elain declared excitedly, while Nesta was dialling her phone.

“Well, thank god for small miracles. Guess you aren't going to prison after all.”

“Shut up,” Elain pouted.

Smirking to herself, Nesta turned away from her sister and then tossed over her shoulder, “I think he needs mouth to mouth.”

“What?!” 

“Yeah, you know, CPR. Give him CPR. Revive him.”

Unsure, Elain looked down at the unconscious man and murmured,

“But…I…but it’s like kissing…”

“Okay, well, it’s not really kissing, but you’ve had sex with many men, so kissing shouldn’t be an issue for you,” Nesta noted. 

“T!”

“Elain! You might save his life!” Nesta cried out dramatically. The things she had to do to get her sister a boyfriend!

Then, she added, “911 is telling me to give him CPR!”

She was lying of course. 

Reluctantly, Elain crouched over him and wincing, pressed her lips to his.

Someone somewhere was having a good laugh at her expense.

Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha.

This was just hilarious. Her first kiss should be with an unconscious guy who probably got brain damage because of her.

“Deeper!” Nesta urged her on. 

“Deeper?” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what 911 is saying. Put some…you know…muscle into it!”

Elain frowned, but breathed more air into the man’s lungs. She didn't want to think about how soft his lips were and how he smelled nice–something earthy and citrusy. He definitely took good care of himself, and even clad in all spandex, she could smell the cologne on him. 

“They are on their way,” Nesta said, placing the phone back into her arm pocket. 

She looked down at Elain who was still trying to revive him, and then commented,

“His package is…moderate.”

Elain’s head jerked up and she stared at her sister in disgust.

“What is wrong with you?!” she demanded, “he is half-dead and you are looking at his…his…”

“What?” Nesta teased.

“Penis!”

“Yes. His modestly moderate penis.”

“You are gross!”

“Why isn't he waking up?” Nesta crossed her arms on her chest. “What a wimp.”

In the distance they heard the wailing of a siren.

“I hit him with a rock!” Elain exclaimed, “a boulder!”

“Please. It was a pebble.”

Elain gently smacked his cheek, and then dipped back in to blow more air in his lungs.

“Please wake up…”

With a moan, the man twitched and groaned, and then hissed,

“Who the fuck are you?!”

Taken aback by his tone, Elain quickly explained, “We called an ambulance…I am sorry…I am just trying to revive you,”

“Trying to revive me?” he grunted menacingly. “Maybe don’t fucking throw rocks at me in the first place. No wonder you are a virgin!”

Elain blushed profusely and gasped, “I am sorry?”

Nesta frowned at his tone and stepped forward.

“Simmer down, bud,”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” he snapped, “she threw a rock at me,”

“It was obviously an accident,”

“Yeah, an accident where I have a rock embedded in my head.”

“It’s a scratch. Calm down,” Nesta argued lazily.

“Can I get you anything?” Elain offered softly.

“Yeah, step off, missy,” he suggested and then tried to move, but moaned loudly instead.

“This guys sucks,” Nesta whispered, “I wish we didn’t help him,”

“T!”

“What did you just say?” he glowered at Nesta but she ignored him.

Thankfully, the tense moment was interrupted by four brawny paramedics who were running up the path.

They surrounded the man, asking him questions, taking vitals, looking at the gushing wound on his head which was spewing blood.

Nesta shrugged and said, “Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

“Nesta, he got hit in the head by a rock!” Elain reminded her crossly. “Come on, let’s go. We’ll follow them to the hospital.”

“We have to go to the hospital with him?” Nesta gritted indignantly.

“Obviously!”

The drive to the regional hospital was only fifteen minutes long, during which Nesta was silent, but rolling her eyes excessively.

…”It’s been almost two hours. How much longer do we need to sit here?”

It has been almost two hours. They’ve been sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by some ‘shady people’ in Nesta’s words. She kept trying to guess what was wrong with each individual, proposing things like “definitely herpes!” and “you think a bear attack?” and “oh god, this dude is hacking out a lung!” and “I think the clap!” and “jeez, I hope it’s not ebola”.

Elain was chewing on her nail, her head jerking every time the door opened, as she waited for the cops to come in and arrest her.

“Miss?”

She looked up at the sound of a deep, gravelly voice.

The first thing she saw were big, scarred hands holding an IPad. Large male hands, covered in tattoos. Each finger and knuckle has a symbol of some kind inked into the tanned skin. Looking up, Elain was faced with a man dressed in civilian clothes, but in a blue scrubs coat, which, it seemed, he wore out of expectation, rather than necessity.

“Miss…?” he repeated, and she just stared at him.  Because he was breathtaking.

“Elain,” she answered, her voice hollow, her eyes roaming over the man’s imposing physique and enormous height.

“Mamma mia,” Elain heard Nesta’s breathless whisper behind her.

Mamma mia indeed.

“Miss Elain then?”

“Yeah. Elain,” Elain repeated stupidly.

He smirked and said,

“I am Doctor Azriel King. You came in with Mr. Nolan?”

“What?” she mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away from the stunning beauty of this man, who was all sharp angles and gorgeous hazel eyes, which were a dreamy combination of gold and earthy brown and emerald green. Thick black hair, stylishly cut, crowned this exceptional specimen of raw, aggressive masculinity. Even his neck had tattoos. Elain was beginning to hyperventilate. If she fainted here, would this Dr. King give her mouth to mouth? If she knew he was a doctor here, she’d come here every day to faint!

“Mr. Nolan, Graysen Nolan,” he glanced at the IPad, “you came here with him? He said that you hit him with a rock?”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, no concussion. Just a bad cut on his forehead, for which he received stitches.”

A smirk played on his beautiful mouth.

“Mr. Nolan doesn’t tolerate pain very well it seems.”

“Did he cry like a little bitch?” Nesta huffed, standing behind Elain.

“I would say…” he pretended to think for a second and then grinned. “Yeah. Yeah he did.”

Eyes back on Elain, he asked,

“Why did you hit him with a rock?”

“I didn’t!” she said defensively. “I mean, I did, but I didn’t do it on purpose.”

He looked her over, something dark and desirous flashing in his unusual eyes and said sternly,

“You shouldn’t be hitting people with rocks, Elain. Especially your boyfriends."

“Usually I don’t. And he is not my boyfriend! You are a doctor here?” she blurted out and then blushed furiously.

He gave her a slow, languid look, and then drew his thumb over his lower lip, sizing her up in the same manner he would a delicious, sinful meal.

“The hospital is low on staff. I am filling in. I usually travel during forest fire season with smoke jumpers,”

“Oh my god, that’s so dangerous!” Elain gasped.

“Yeah, tell it to my brother Cassian. He’s been a smoke jumper for 7 years. I head their medical team.”

Abruptly, he changed gears, and looked at Nesta.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Her eyes bugged out and she cried, “Excuse me?!”

“It’s just that you are exactly his type–sharp and beautiful.”

For once, it was Nesta who was out of things to say. She just glared at him in shock.

“She is available!” Elain piped in right away. “She is not seeing anyone. Does he look like you?”

Dr. King laughed softly, and Elain fell in love with the sound at once.

“He sure does. Just brawnier.”

Elain turned to her sister and hissed at Nesta, “his brother looks like him!”

“I…I…I am not going out with a smoke jumper!” Nesta protested feebly.

Dr. King popped his lips and said, “well, you are in luck! This is his last season. We are both done, and he won’t be smelling like a smoked mackerel anymore.”

Elain giggled. That caused him to look back at her, and he drew the tip of his tongue over his lips.

She swallowed. Loudly.

“And you?” he asked.

“What?”

“How serious are you about Graysen Nolan?”

“Who?”

He smiled a savage smile.

“That’s what I thought.”

Extending his scarred hand to her, he ordered, “phone”.

Wordlessly, Elain handed him her phone, courteously unlocking it for him.

He took it and quickly typed something into it.

“Cassian’s number. And mine. Your name, miss?”

“Nesta,” Nesta breathed.

“Perfect. He’ll love it.”

He handed the phone back to Elain and said,

“You and I are going on a date tonight. Seven PM."

She just stared at him in shock.

"I am not a stalker," he assured her lightly, those eyes sparkling with mischief. "Unless you want me to be a stalker?"

"Ummm, not particularly."

"Alright then. Just a bit then. Not Zade Meadows level stalker,"

The expression of shock and bewilderment only intensified on her face.

"You know Zade?" she gasped.

"Well, not personally. He is a character in a book. But I am familiar. So. I shall see you at seven tonight. And every night after that.”

[booktomoviebrawl]

We are not judging how bad the movie is, we are judging which adapted the book the worst. There are good movies that are bad adaptions.

Propaganda below the cut (spoilers may apply)

The Witcher:

Henry Cavill, mostly. Also awful hair and makeup dept.

What they did to Geralt is straight up character assassination and they destroyed his friendship with Dandelion. I will never stop being bitter

completely disregards the themes the books represent and Anglicizing the eastern european literary traditions present. they cast actors who were a poor fit for the roles and the writers expressing open disdain for the books. there is no point to putting work and effort into adapting a media you hate.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children:

While Miss Peregrine was one of my favorite books as a kid and incredibly unique in the way the story is written (The author basically took a box of weird antique photographs and created an underlying story behind a handful of them) the movie is incredibly boring. Like seriously I can't remember a single goddamn thing about the movie besides my extreme disappointment with it after leaving the theatres. It's probably because the original is a trilogy but they didn't want to make it a trilogy for the movie so they just scrapped the ending of the first book and rewrote a shitty climax where they threw snowballs at the nightmare child eating creatures or something. I remember THAT scene perfectly because it was so, so dumb. It was so stupid oh my God- ALSO, thank God I have a copy of the book from before the film came out because new copies don't have one of the photographs that the actual book uses as a base anymore and instead have the shitty movie poster! We truly do live in a society.

Changed way too much so it doesn't feel like the same thing. The main characters are these kids with different abilities (called peculiarities) and the movie switches around their powers and changes almost everyone's age. Emma and Olive switch powers so that Emma now floats (they also added that she can kind of control air to some extent) when she's supposed to have fire powers to match her fiery personality. Olive can make fire now and she's also aged up from an eight year old to a teenager and put her in this weird romance with Enoch. Enoch is also aged up from a grumpy thirteen year old to around the same age as Olive. Bronwyn, one of the older kids in the book and sort of a motherly figure to the younger kids, is now one of the youngest kids. Hugh and Fiona are aged down and basically have no interaction at all in the movie, even when their book counterparts had such a good relationship. The only one they didn't really change was Horace and Jacob. They also added these gorgon twins that do like two things. The antagonist in the movie is Mr. Barron who honestly isn't super memorable and isn't in the books whatsoever. The ending of the movie is weird too because they manage to turn back time somehow so Jacob's grandfather isn't dead and then he hops through loops so he can be with Emma and the other peculiars. I guess the problem of wights and hollowgasts is magically eliminated and we do not have to deal with the consequences. It took six books to fix everything. I appreciate that the movie engaged me enough to read the series but once I did, I could not believe they did my kids that dirty.

Yikes where to start. The 3 girl characters are all mixed up. There are 2 teens, one who's super strong and has a brother (I'll get back to him) and one who controls fire and is the love interest named Emma. The third girl is a child called Olive who floats. She's lighter than air.

In the movie, strong girl is the child, olive is now the fire girl and is for some reason super introverted, and Emma the love interest floats and gets given a super breath??? Power?? Like she rises a sunken ship by blowing in and keeps a man blown against a wall by blowing air at him. He makes a remark that she'll run out of breath eventually, which happens here because plot convenience, but not when she's blowing in the sunken ship.

The enemies in the book are terrifying Hollows. Creatures who have lost themselves and devour souls of those with powers... The movie decides they eat eyes now. And turn human again. And get busted up in a fair for the final act of the movie. Ugh.

The movie also decides randomly that time travelling through the loops is a thing; a loop being a pocket of time that replays the same day over and over. But apparently this means Main Character can travel back in time and stop his grandfather dying??? What?? His grandfathers death is the whole start of the movie and motivation for the character.

The movie undermines many of things that made the book amazing and even decides it's not a trilogy anymore!! Fuck the other 2 books, right?!

Tldr; it is terribly hollywood-ised and t tim Burton ruined a franchise by trying too hard to make it quirky and fun when the books already had a brilliant sombre and interesting tone to them.