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#i feel like me trying to be civil and nice is only making me feel awkward
litnerdwrites · 2 days
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For all that Cassian claims to love his people, do we ever see that love? He never mentions anything about them other than how he feels they've failed as a society due to their misogyny, or how he feels a pseudo hunger games is the only way to avoid civil war. What are the readers, much less the other characters, meant to think of Illyrians?
On top of that, the one thing that bothers him most is being called a bastard? I get that it's a major insecurity, but when he downplays his so-called mates' trauma and chalks up her response to said trauma as a personal attack on him due to his birth, it just comes across as being self-centred and un-empathetic.
When he sees Nesta dancing with Eris, despite knowing that they were doing to her what her abusive mother did to her, his biggest concern was still that Nesta may chose the person who acknowledges her talents, doesn't try to force her to change, and is generally pretty nice to her, over him because of his birth?
Dude, if it was that much of an issue, she wouldn't have been willing to die with you during the war. At this point, your birth doesn't mean shit to anyone but you, and you're the one being the most vocal about it. Honestly, it makes him feel more like a stubborn pick-me boy than an someone we're supposed to be rooting for, and empathising with.
It's not because you're a bastard, it's because you're a self centred, arrogant asshole who can't see past yourself, your brother and your own pain.
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mitamicah · 5 months
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hobisexually · 1 year
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#hello it’s your weekly scheduled trauma dump on tungle dot com!#I never knew how to explain why I don’t like the holidays right#because yes! I’m full of love and warmth and want to celebrate nice times with the people I love! absolutely#and I like the coziness and the everything#but Monday it was Sinterklaas and it used to be my favourite holiday of them all#it truly makes me feel like a kid and I used to hold on to this holiday with my tiny fists SO tightly because it was just. pure joy.#minus the racism re: piet obviously that’s a whole other can of worms I won’t get into rn#but this Monday it all exploded because of my dad and it was truly a throwback to my entire teenage years#and how it was all about appearances and pleasing anyone but me only to sit in a car and think about how fake it all is and how#that love isn’t. felt. not really. it’s always been about unspoken pain hè projects onto everyone else without respecting your boundaries#and I just can’t do it anymore and this time I set a firm hard no and his temper tantrum led to my mum choosing him over me EVEN THOUGH#THEY ARE LITERALLY DIVORCED??????????#‘amber hes crying it’s heartbreaking you’re coming’#yeah well I was also crying at WORK by myself where it is of the UTMOST importance to me they don’t know about any of this#but no no this whole grown man who is in a fucked situation with his family OF HIS OWN UNDOING is who we’re choosing instead of your child#I went! I put on my big girl pants and went and said hi to his family and was more than civil and celebrated with the kids#but it cost me so much. and for the first time ever I saw exactly how much it really cost me#I spent three whole days trying to set a boundary and stand up for myself only for it to be discarded because my No doesn’t matter ever#then I was so stressed i broke my own body in an attempt trying to be civil like my entire cheek is swollen from biting it I literally#haven’t been able to eat properly since Tuesday. my stomach hurts. my headache hasn’t gone. and I am so so so tired I fell asleep at 7pm#and I’ve been white as a sheet everyone at work could tell something was wrong but they didn’t know What exactly#and just. the contact with this man. I can’t keep doing it not when it does /this/ to me#I can’t even properly explain what it’s like or what happens. just that I can’t do it anymore because it’s tearing me apart and it actively#holds me back? I spent the past four years in therapy talking about and trying to fix everything he instilled in me but is holding me back#in my life. in my relationships. in my work. in the way I look at /myself/#I can’t keep surviving I have to start living#and it’s ALWAYS worse around the holidays. the worst fights and nights of my life have been during the holidays#I am thirty years old and I was suddenly a fifteen year old this week who desperately needed help but wasn’t getting it#and I refuse to live like that ever again. I’m done. I’m done!#and it’s deeply sad and upsetting but we can’t fix this. we just can’t.
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sweetiecutie · 8 months
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AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?
Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader
Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink
A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention
• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.
• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.
• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*
• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.
NSFW here~*•.
• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.
• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.
• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.
• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.
• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3
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reiding-writing · 2 months
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Spencer making cold!Reader flustered? And morgan teasing
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CUP OF COFFEE [ONESHOT]
/kʌp əv ˈkɒfi/
a local officer on a case you’re working on really wants to impress you, spencer reid does it without even trying.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, morgan being morgan, reader trying to be civil but ultimately failing
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.9k || series masterlist!!
a/n: reader doesn’t actually get all that flustered but i feel like it’s more accurate this way rather than having her go into a full on fluster considering her personality-
main masterlist!!
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It was always fifty-fifty when working with local police departments on a case. They either wanted absolutely nothing to do with the FBI or they would follow you and the team around like a bunch of children.
This one was the latter, and it was arguably the worse of the two.
It felt like every time you rounded a corner you had a police officer just waiting to divert all of your attention away from the case so they could ask you questions about your job, and it was starting to get really frustrating.
“Have you ever worked a case like this before?”
“Not specifically,”
“How do you know how to write a psychological profile for a type of crime you haven’t encountered before?”
“I‘ve got a PhD in Psychology-“
“What exactly is a psychological profile?”
You were starting to get really annoyed now.
You know there was no ill intent behind his questions, he looked no older than his early twenties, fresh on the scene and to the types of things the criminal world really had to offer.
He genuinely wanted to learn, but when you were trying to catch a serial killer before they had the chance to kill anybody else, you didn’t exactly have time to entertain all of his questions whilst also focusing on the profile you were trying to curate at the same time.
“You can ask me your questions after this guy is behind bars,” That was probably as nice as your request was going to get.
“Right- Sorry- I’ll stop talking now,” He pressed his lips into a tight line with a small nod as he took your words to heart.
The boy reminded you of Spencer in some ways. He was tall and disproportionately lanky, he seemed to have a never ending stream of curiosity, he dressed decently similarly, and he even made the same expressions you’ve come to recognise as a staple of Spencer’s personality.
One thing that was very different between the two though, was that Spencer knew how to take a hint.
He would’ve left you alone the second those words came out of your mouth, but instead you had now gained yourself an observer as you worked, one that was cemented by the scraping of metal chair legs on the carpet and a messenger bag hitting the floor.
You fight the urge to audibly groan at his persistent presence, closing your eyes with the silent prayer that something would call his attention out of the room so that he would leave you to work in peace.
Then there was a knock on the door.
Looks like God was on your side today.
“Come in,” You call out towards the door with an internal sigh of relief, wringing the whiteboard pen in your hands as you turn towards the door you’d specifically left closed so people like officer curious sat at the round table wouldn’t bother you.
Your relief was short lived when Morgan walked through the door, and you don’t even try to hide the groan that leaves your mouth at the look on his face as he enters. “What now?”
“Now now, that’s now way to be a good role model to your youngers now is it?” The smug look on Morgan’s face only widens as he spots the officer at the table. “I’m looking for pretty boy, can’t find him anywhere,”
You shrug as a response. “Unlike the rest of you, he knows when to leave me alone, so I haven’t seen him,”
If that wasn’t the most direct indirect way for you to say you didn’t want the officer’s presence whilst you worked you didn’t know what was.
Morgan raises an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. “Well, we've got a lead on the case. Thought you might want to be in the loop.” He glances at the officer, then back at you.
You give him a short hum and discard the whiteboard pen on the table, having to physically raise your hand to stop the officer from following the two of you out of the room. “We need to speak privately for this, I’m sure you understand,”
“Right- Right yeah sorry- I’ll just uh- wait here then…”
You give him a short nod with your lips pressed taut into a line as you push Morgan out of the small meeting room and into the hallway, following behind him and clicking the door shut behind you.
“Got yourself a fan have you?” Morgan chuckles slightly as he watches the officer take a seat back at the table through the room’s window, his eyes on you as he tries to silently soak in every detail of the conversation through the glass.
“More like a parasite, he hasn’t left me alone for more than five minutes all day.” You groan exasperatedly as the two of you walk to a private area to have your conversation.
“Can you blame the kid? He’s probably never seen an FBI Agent in person before, he’s just excited,”
“Annoying is what he is,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
When you return to the put-aside meeting room reserved for your profile making, there are two cups of coffee on the table, and of course, the officer is still sitting there.
His head turns up to the door as you open it, and he straightens his back in the chair. “Welcome back- I uh- I made you some coffee, I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I asked one of your team members- Two sugars right?“
He pushes the mug carefully in your direction so the drink doesn’t spill, and you walk right past it back towards the whiteboard.
“Thank you, but I don’t drink coffee in mugs used by other people, nor do I drink coffee made by an unhygienic office coffee machine,” You try your best to be civil as you shut him down.
“Ouch-” Morgan leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, shaking his head in exaggerated disapproval at your response. “Don’t be so harsh-”
You roll your eyes at Morgan’s input, turning your gaze to the now slightly embarrassed officer. “I appreciate your effort,”
“I should’ve asked you personally, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologise you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s fine,” You give him a small tilt of your head to hammer the fact that everything was fine home so that he didn’t completely crumple up into himself and leave you to deal with it.
“Right, sorry- I mean-” The officer sighs as he gives up talking, taking the two mugs in his hands as he stands from the table. “I’ll take these out,”
Morgan follows the boy with his eyes as he walks past to leave the room, and you slump your shoulders the second he’s out of sight.
“For God’s sake-”
“You’ve really got yourself a little shadow,” Morgan continues to revel in your misery as he steps further into the room, letting the door close behind him.
“I am two minutes away from ripping him a new asshole if he doesn’t take the hint and leave me the fuck alone,” You groan exasperatedly, dragging your palm down your face as you take a seat on the edge of the table. “I’ve barely gotten anything done because he keeps peering over my shoulder like a goddamn five year old with separation anxiety,”
You weren’t wrong in the first half of your assessment, most of the whiteboard you’d been using to write down your notes was empty despite you working on the profile for multiple hours at this point, and judging by the attitude of the poor officer you were slandering the second half of your assessment wasn’t too far off either. “You never get that frustrated with Reid,”
“How is that at all relevant to anything I’ve just said?”
“Come on, you’ve gotta be able to see the similarities here, he’s practically a carbon copy of what Reid was like when he first joined the team,” Morgan gives a short laugh as he gestures in the direction that the officer had just left in.
“Reid was just as annoying back then,”
“He’s barely changed at all-” Morgan rolls his eyes at your half-assed way of explaining why Spencer was an exception to your frustration.
“He’s changed a lot actually,” You shake your head with an impatient sigh as you lean over to grab your whiteboard pen, using it to keep your hands busy.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He mirrors the way you shake your head with his own. “That boy is your kryptonite and you know it,”
“Get your ass out of this room before I cover your face in whiteboard marker penises,” You don’t refute Morgan’s claim and he knows it, standing up with a smirk and his hands raised comically in surrender as he retreats to the door.
“Yes ma’am,” He turns for the door handle with a laugh, but the door swings open before he can, and you mentally prepare yourself for that goddamn police officer to walk back into the room and continue hovering over you like a mosquito.
You don’t have to.
“Well speak of the devil,” Morgan tilts his head knowingly at you as Spencer bypasses him to enter with a cardboard holder of take out ocffee cups in hand, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion at why you and Morgan would be having a conversation about him without him being present.
Morgan nudges Spencer with his elbow, eyes locked on you as he starts to spill. “Little miss Ice Queen and I were just talking about-”
“There’s a possible lead in the case.” You interrupt him before he can divulge any details of your conversation. “One you would benefit from knowing about. Morgan was looking for you,”
“Oh-” Spencer gives a short nod in your direction, leaving the cups on the table to ball his hands together and then flex his fingers like a mini hand workout. “I was in the coffee shop down the block sorry,” He takes the two cups from the holder, one in each hand, and holds the one in his left out towards you.
You take the cup from him with your lips pressed into a small line, as much of a thanks as you’re going to give and as much of a thanks as he was expecting in the first place.
“They were established back in 1902 and continue to make their coffee using traditional methods rather than using a machine like most coffee shops do in the present day.” He takes a sip from his own cardboard cup after his little bit of exposition of the shop’s history and you mirror him in doing the same.
Absolutely perfect.
As to be expected from someone when the person who ordered it had an eidetic memory. And maybe a little bit better because that person was Spencer Reid. Maybe.
“I-” You’re not exactly sure what to say. Obviously a thanks would be worth voicing, but he had gone out of his way to buy you a cup of coffee, even if him remembering your order was like reciting the alphabet in his head.
“Thank you, it’s nice,” You give him a small nod through your mostly deadpanned expression as you take a second sip through the plastic lid of the cup, trying in vain to seem nonchalant about the unannounced gift that he’d brought back for you.
Morgan noticed immediately. Of course he did, because when was Morgan ever minding his own goddamn business?
“No problem,” Spencer’s face erupts in that bright smile of his, and his words get half caught in his throat as he tries to speak whilst in the middle of swallowing. “Did you know that coffee is actually a fruit despite coffee beans being called, well, beans? The coffee beans that we use to make drinkable coffee are actually the pit of coffee cherries, that grow on bushes in low-altitude tropical regions,”
You give him a small hum and a nod as an acknowledgement of you taking in the information, and Morgan laughs at the way your eyes flicker away from Spencer’s gaze rather than holding it firm like you usually would. “No coffee for me pretty boy?”
“You had a cup of coffee in your hand when I left,”
“So what? I’m stuck with the shitty police station coffee and little miss ‘I hate everyone’ gets your old fashioned fancy coffee?” Morgan’s accusation holds no malice in it whatsoever, and if his tone wasn’t enough to display that, the goddamned smirk on his face definitely was.
“I do not hate everyone, just you,” You shoot your retort at him with a roll of your eyes and a scoff.
“You wound me,” Morgan clasps his hand dramatically over his chest, pretending to stumble backwards out of pain. He knew you didn’t hate him really, no matter how much you claimed to.
“Caffeine helps increase brain functioning, which will help when curating a profile,” Spencer half points to the still mostly empty board behind you and you almost groan at the reminder of just how little progress you’ve made. “And she doesn’t like the coffee machines, so a proper cup of coffee is the next easiest option,”
You almost forget to breathe as Spencer explains his reasoning behind the coffee run. He’d remembered that tiny detail. Obviously he had, he had an eidetic memory. But he’d actually thought about it and made a conscious decision to find you a caffeine fix elsewhere in the wake of that knowledge.
“Everyone should preferably be drinking properly made coffee, but with the prices I’m not surprised people choose the cheaper option, even if they’re not getting as much caffeine per drink,” Spencer shrugs as he continues his explanation, finishing it off with another sip from his cup.
Your eyes turn up at the mention of the price. You hadn’t considered the fact that him buying you coffee actually included him buying the coffee.
“How much was it?” You glance between him and the cup in your hand as if trying to figure it out yourself based solely on the black tree printed on the cardboard, eyebrows furrowed at the idea of him spending a lot of money on two cups of coffee of all things.
“Uh,” He deliberates on whether to actually tell you, but he knows that you’ll find out one way or another so there was no real point in trying to hide it from you. “Eighteen for the both of them,”
“Eighteen dollars? You spent eighteen dollars on two cups of coffee?” He was expecting that reaction from you.
“Proportionally it’s actually relatively inexpensive considering how it’s made and the beans that are used. Some professional coffee makers charge upwards of fourteen dollars a cup,”
“And those coffee makers are absolutely fucking insane,” You stare down at your cup as you internally judge whether it was worth a whole nine dollars. It was a great cup of coffee to be sure, probably the best one you’d ever had, but nine goddamn dollars? It wasn’t even a large cup. “Nine goddamn dollars for a cup of coffee my god,”
You can see Spencer’s expression falter slightly in your peripheral vision at your outrage of the price, something that you’d definitely not intended and something you considered an easy fix as you left your cup on the table to rifle through your bag.
“You are simply something else Dr Reid I swear,” The second you pull your purse out of your bag he knows what you’re going to do, and he tries to shut you down before you can even start.
“I- You don’t- I chose to pay for it with my own money you don’t-”
You make a ‘zip’ motion across your mouth with your middle and index finger to stop him from talking as you pull out a ten dollar note and shove it into the chest pocket of his cardigan so he can’t refuse to take it from you. “Never buy me a drink that expensive again,”
“Right,” Spencer presses his lips tight into a line with a small nod, “Did it taste okay at least?”
“It was probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t make it not ridiculously expensive.” Spencer doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that emerges on his face at your approval, even if it was backhandedly berating him for buying it in the process.
“Cough cough lovebirds, in case you forgot, Reid still needs to be debriefed about the new lead,” You don’t even bother trying to retort to Morgan as you pick up your coffee and leave the room with Spencer happily trailing behind you.
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etirabys · 3 months
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meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again
I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.
I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.
TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.
The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.
Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:
Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition
And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.
(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")
I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,
(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)
it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.
(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)
which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that
(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)
I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking
(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)
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lanabuckybarnes · 2 months
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Fucking you (literally)
18+ Minors DNI
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(I don’t own any of the photos, credits to their original owners)
No thoughts just thinking about the different Bucky’s and the many ways they’d fuck.
Warnings: a few kinks mentioned in there: spanking, face sitting, hair pulling, phone sex, the winter soldier (he’s mean)
If I’ve missed any more warnings let me know
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40s Bucky is service top 98% of the time, he loves seeing you become immersed in pleasure, you’d think it was him feeling the way he touches you whenever you’d looked at his bliss-filled face. He just absolutely wants and needs you to be completely fucked out and slurring your words with how well he’s satisfied you. That other 2% of the time though, he’s a fucking tease. You want a kiss, he’s pulling away with a tut, that wide grin getting impossibly wider as you whine to him.
If you’re like that with just a kiss imagine how you’d react if he had you flat on your back, dress and underwear thrown somewhere in the room, at this point you didn’t give a fuck. His lips ghost over your stomach, leaving chaste kisses and hot breaths in their wake. Just when he gets to that spot you so desperately want him, he’s away- your thighs needed more marks he’d say. The way only one of his hands would be able to hold you down while he relentlessly teased you, the other either gripping your breast or holding your hand.
Also, breeding kink??
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The Winter Soldier. I honestly don’t think this man would fuck at all but, in this scenario let’s say he partook in it. He is the only Bucky Barnes that I genuinely think would be fully rough, you need mean? You’ve got it. He doesn’t care about your pleasure, he uses you as a release (consensually of course), pushing your face down into the covers and ploughing you. He’d smack your ass so hard as well and leave you sore for weeks because of them, people would normally ask if you were ok but they hear the way he destroys you, they don’t need an explanation as to why you can’t sit down.
I don’t think he’d be entirely heartless, he’d probably feel quite horrible about the huge red marks blooming on your cheeks but you’d reassure him that you loved it, loved the way he used you.
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Civil War Bucky needs someone to take the wheel. He’s so used to having someone control him and it’s hard to shake that immediately. He just needs soft words in his ears while you ride him slowly, sometimes he’s just happy to let you sit there with his cock in you. Civil War Bucky is so whiny, I just imagine him constantly with a veiny hand over his mouth to hide his pitiful moans, his deep blue eyes wet with tears, never leaving you as you suck his thick length nice and good.
On some occasions, Civil War Bucky will try to take the lead but more often than not he’ll flunk out halfway through, flip you over so you’re sitting on top of him and beg you to ride his face until you make a mess of him. Lives for eating pussy, almost cums in his pants when you pull on his hair.
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I skipped 3 eras because they’re the same as Civil War Bucky but FATWS Bucky is like a mix of them all.
When he’s in a foul mood he either needs you to ruin him or he needs to ruin you.
He likes it when you dress all pretty for him when you put on a nice outfit and some pretty silk undies so he can unwrap you, godddd damn.
Since he’s on missions a lot you came to him with the idea of phone sex, or sending videos and pics of each other. To begin with, he was very apprehensive of the whole idea but one long mission later and his cock was hard and his hand wasn’t cutting it. He’d sigh and pick up the phone, noting the late hour over where you were staying. He knew you probably wouldn’t be awake but his finger had pressed call before he even knew it.
Surprisingly you picked up with a cute lil “hey baby” and a soft smile he could hear in your words. His cheeks were beet red when he began to talk about the whole phone sex thing, you helped calm him down though. Suddenly with your sultry voice in his ear, his thrusts into his hand felt so much better. He came hard that night and after saying his Goodnights to you he took a mental note to do that every mission.
-
I’m ovulating can you tell?
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leafyisgreennotblue · 2 months
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With Legends Z-A, I gave him the unavoidable design. I had written so much background and trying to get it on Insta was a hassle, but luckily I’ll be able to fully put it here with no issues,,:
It was hard to steer from the typical older Emmet look but I tried my hardest to make it seem like it would’ve been. I tried looking up France fashion from 1600-1900 but it was either some ridiculous outfits or suits, and since it mentioned the redevelopment of Lumiose City, it was either working up from something like Jubilife village or was upgrading from what it already is. I’ve heard a lot of theories that Legends Z-A will be taking place in the future or bounce back from future to past, but since it’s hard to incorporate futuristic outfits without knowing “how futuristic” it’ll be, I stuck to something from a layer time period in France. I drew him more of a square shape in his eyes instead of triangular, both to signify age and his lost connection with Ingo. Maybe not a permanent design but I think it adds a lot to his demeanor. He kept Basic stuff like he still has his coat, hat, etc. because Ingo got to keep all his old stuff too, but since the trailer looked more modern and Pokémon were with people, I don’t think it would be all destroyed like Ingos just cause it seems like a more civilized nation alongside pokemon and if it really did get destroyed in some way, I have a feeling he would be able to get it repaired without it getting ruined again. Also in terms of the suit I think the darker color is a good parallel to Ingos pearl clan outfits lighter colors. A lot of the design choices were meant to parallel him anyways. Since Ingo had lost his gloves in his Hisui design, giving Emmet new ones felt appropriate for some reason. In terms of the cane I gave him, not only is he an old man, I think it’s kinda needed. Ingo had that little wristband to signify he was a warden, while I think the cane could be useful for a mega stone wink wink nudge nudge. Cute little accessories for them I’m so nice 💀 he could definitely have a slower lifestyle in comparison to Ingo, and I definitely could see him working at Lumiose Station (if it exists in this game) and even though he would most likely have his memory wiped too, Ingo still said the same train themed quotes even with his memory gone, and even then he still had SOME memory, it was just very faint. Emmet definitely could feel some “connection” to the station and say stuff like “Some late nights I think I see a man who looks like me, but upon second glance it’s just my imagination. Even if I can’t seem to shake it from my mind, it seems I still wish to see him again…” anywho for the drawing, I made a few references. The main one just being a reference of design, but the one in the top right corner was a small reference to Alabaster Icelands. I’ve seen a lot of people use the snow to give Ingo flashbacks to Emmet, and while I think my station one is more closely related to Ingos darker color scheme, I think having him in the snow was a good nod to that. The bottom right corner was a reference to a drawing (that probably most people already know what I’m referencing) that had Pokémon that I thought resembled them, and one of the ones I had included for Ingo was Klefki. So just a little salt to the wound (it wasn’t even that bad.) Anywho, I know the design isn’t very refreshing, but I tried to keep it as canonical as possible.
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justaaveragereader · 9 months
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Perform For Them
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Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Genre: Smut, Mean Dom! Yunho
Warning⛔️: Unprotected Sex (Don’t Do That), Rough Sex, Oral (Giving), Choking With A Belt, Mean Dom! Yunho, Spanking, Cum Eating, Recording The Deed, Cream Pie, Slight Possessive Yunho, Naming Calling (Slut, Whore, Dumb), If I Missed Anything, Let Me Know 👀👀!
NSFW & Warnings Under Cut - Minors DNI!!!🔞
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“I was just talking with him!” You slightly raise your voice at Yunho. Hands thrown in the air, clearly tired of having this recurring conversation.
“Lower your tone, I’m not raising my voice at you, am I? No. Secondly, talking? Is that what you call drooling over Wooyoung?”
“I was not drooling!” You yell, voice now bouncing off of the bedroom walls. What was supposed to be a nice dinner between you and all the members ended up being a complete shit show. Yunhos eyes lifted to you, his eyebrows raised as if he was surprised at your tone after he asked you politely to lower it.
“Wooyoung loves attention, you know how he is! You are in the same group with him!” You yell again, hands trying their best to unstrap your heels. Eyes too busy with the buckle on your shoes you miss the way his eyebrows raise, you also miss the way his jaw tightens in annoyance.
“Y/n I’m only going to ask you this last time to not raise your voice. We are trying to have a civilized conversation.” He speaks, air as soft as a pillow, eyes as dark as the midnight sky.
“Now you want to have a civilized conversation?! What was that at the dinner table then? Wasn’t shit civilized about tha-.” Yunho swiftly gets off the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around your throat and shoving you against the wall. His body crushing you against the plaster. His face directly over yours.
“I asked you to lower your voice while talking to me. I’m not yelling at you so why are you yelling at me?” He grits out through tight lips, clearly pissed off at you. You roll your eyes, putting your hands on Yunhos chest, trying to shove him off of you. His body doesn’t even move a muscle, almost like he’s cemented to the ground.
“Yunho seriously get off of me.” You roll your eyes once again, you don’t want to put up with his jealous ways right now. Any other night you’d shower him in the reassurance of how he’s the only man for you but tonight you don’t want to even scratch that surface. Trying to push him off you once again, his hand tightens on your throat taking you by surprise.
“I’ll move when I’m ready. Now, if you want to talk about this like adults, let's do it. Otherwise keep your smart mouth shut. Or I’m going to do it for you.”
“Oh yea? You feeling big and bad, Jeong Yunho?” You say poking his chest, your face growing a smirk clearly finding this situation now funny. Which he didn’t take all too well.
“You? You are going to shut it for me? Yea ok.” You say through a laugh, finally getting Yunho to move back slightly, moving off of the wall making your way to the bathroom. Before you can even make it two steps his hand reaches out wrapping around your neck pulling you back to his chest.
“What did you say?” He practically growls out.
“Yunho.. Listen it wasn’t ev-.”
His hand tightens on your throat, his other grips your waist bringing you closer to him, his nose brushes over the crown of your head, your skin litters with goosebumps.
“No no, continue with what you were going to say.”
You swallow hard, the grip on your throat tightening ever so slightly. He gives the small of your back a push towards the bed walking with you to the end of the bed. His hand that was gripping your waist now running lightly over your back, coming up to undo the zipper on your dress.
“You are going to do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand?” He whispers into your ear, kissing from your neck down to your jaw. A smile gracing his face the whole time. Closing your eyes you let your head fall against his shoulder, caught up in all the pleasure you hadn’t even realized he was speaking to you.
His hand coming down and cracking against your clothed ass cheek. The weight of his hand was sure to leave a bruise, but that was a matter you would deal with in the morning. Giving you one more harsh slap, he grabs your ass cheeks spreading them slightly, groaning at the squelching noises he hears as he spreads you open.
“Don’t make me ask again, pretty girl.” He growls out, hands still toying with your ass cheeks. You nod your head, pushing your ass back against him trying to hurry this process up. Letting out a small chuckle he pushes the dress down from your shoulders, letting it drop and pool at your feet.
“On your knees. Now.” He whispers roughly into your ear, nipping at the side of your neck before standing back slightly, hands coming to undo his belt. Dropping swiftly to your knees, dress still pooling around you. His gaze on you was so heavy, any loving, caring thoughts he had about you earlier were now clearly gone. Nothing but lust and dark thoughts behind those pretty eyes of his. Sliding the belt out of the loops he hooks his belt, placing it around your neck and tightening it just enough to where it’s slightly pinching your skin but you can still breathe.
“You still think I’m feeling ‘big and bad’ darling? Still think I won’t shut this pretty mouth of yours?”
You knew he was asking you rhetorical questions, you knew this was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. You could answer his question but deciding to play it safe you keep your mouth shut, eyes staring up at him with the belt around your neck. Giving it a swift tug upwards cutting your air supply off slightly.
“Answer me, pretty girl. Do you still think I’m feeling ‘big and bad’? I think I’ve been too lenient with you. First flirting with Wooyou-.”
“I wasn’t flirti-“ you are cut off by him pulling on the belt a choked moan leaves your mouth, your hands gripping your bare knees. You can feel the wetness seeping out your panties onto your inner thighs. As much as you hated the first part of jealous Yunho, the arguing, the fighting. You always loved how it ended, you bare bodied, crying tears of pleasure into the sheets.
“Did I ask you to speak yet?” He grits out pulling harder on the belt before letting go. Shuffling closer to you so the back of your head was touching the mattress.
“You are going to pull out my cock and suck it. I don’t want to hear another word leaving your filthy mouth. Do you understand?”
Deciding it was best not to answer, you immediately move to finish undoing his pants. Clearly pleased at your movements he lets out a hum of approval, tugging his pants down to his knees, his cock springs out, slapping against his stomach before bobbing and standing hard in front of your face. Tip swollen and red, precum dripping from his slit all the way down his shaft. You can tell he wanted this, needed this as badly as you did.
You run your tongue across his slit taking in the slight bitterness of his precum in your mouth, running your tongue all over him, getting him all prepped for your mouth, gripping what you know you won’t be able to fit in your mouth you give him a couple pumps before taking majority of him in. His head rolling back instantly, clearly sensitive, his thighs twitch at the feeling of your warm mouth on his hard cock. You start off with a slow rhythm, tongue dragging on the underside of his cock, tracing over that thick vein that runs along under it making his jaw slack open.
He lets small groans leave his mouth, slurping noises filling the air between you both. Hand jerking off what’s left of him, cock slickening up with your spit, drool dropping onto the top of your boobs, falling between the crevices of them. Your other hand collects the drool pooling out of your mouth, coming up to toy with his heavy balls, causing Yunhos hips to jerk forward sending more of his cock down your throat. You let out a choking noise, trying your best to breath through your nose, you go back to bobbing your head, tongue flickering and dipping between his slit with every pull back.
He’s losing every collective thought he’s ever had in his head, your wet, soft lips on his hardened length in enough to send anyone over the edge. Yet he can’t scratch the feeling of your arm on Wooyoungs, you laughing at Wooyoungs jokes, anger now seeping at his core behind his orgasm he grips your scalp, tugging on the belt you halt your movements. Mouth full of his cock, eyes filled to the brim with tears and your panties filled with your dripping arousal you let out a soft hum.
“That mouth, that fucking mouth is always getting you into trouble baby. Isn’t it?” He breathes out through heavy pants, you can tell he was clearly on the brink of his peak. Sticking your tongue flat out, signaling to him to fuck your throat. He clicks his tongue, eyes clearly enamored in the way you easily submit yourself to him, his woman, his favorite lady, his everything, on her knees with her hands against his thighs looking up at him like he was God. Wooyoung could never.
Slapping his heavy cock down on your tongue, drool spilling out from your mouth, eyes watering. He grips himself slowly inching his way down your throat, one hand still tight on the belt around your neck. You breathe slowly through your nose, trying your best not to choke. His hips start to pick up rhythm, more drool is spilling down your neck, onto your chest. Your eyes flutter at the weight in your mouth, you loved it when he used you like this.
He locks his eyes on your face, hand still gripping your scalp, he wants to cum so bad, he can feel the rush of his orgasm creeping up. Tugging on the belt around your neck, your eyes flutter back open, eyes locking with his. A devilish grin is painted on him, he looks like a demon which means you are in for a long night.
“Look at you, covered in your own spit, mouth and throat full of cock, my cock. I know that pussy is wet, touch it.” He says through a grin, he was mocking you.
Your fingers dance along your clothed core, pushing your panties up against your clit, the squelching noise easily being heard. You were gushing, your panties now stuck around your clit, the rough material of them making your body shutter.
“Such a whore, you that wet from sucking my cock? Imagine if Wooyoung saw you like this.” He spits out at the end of his sentence, you let out a small whine, your skin heating up at the thought of Wooyoung seeing you in such a disarray.
A grin breaks out onto Yunhos face, clearly seeing he has struck a nerve. A horny nerve.
“Maybe I should send it to all of my members huh? Have them see you slutted out for me. I’m sure they will jerk off to it later.” He gets closer to you, cock sliding farther down your throat causing you to slightly choke, your head now full on hitting the mattress. Pulling out slightly, strings of spit connecting as he pulls back, letting out a hiss.
“Stay right there baby.” He reaches over your head, wet cock smearing across your face, you stay still hands gripping his thighs for dear life trying to squeeze your thighs together to cause any friction to your cunt so you can feel a sliver of relief.
He leans back, phone in hand, flash on, causing you to wince slightly at the sudden bright light.
“Stick out your tongue for me.” He says in a low tone, holding the phone up tilting it towards your face, getting the perfect shot, your face smeared with spit, bra and spit covered tits on display, makeup smudged, good god he was going to fuck you stupid later.
Sticking your tongue out, you look up at the camera, making direct eye contact with it, causing Yunho to let out a small chuckle.
“Well well well..don’t we have a performer here.” Slapping his heavy cock again on your tongue he slides in your mouth slowly, making sure to capture the way your mouth wraps around him along with the way your throat slightly stretches to accommodate his size. Your nose brushes slightly over his pelvic area, inhaling his scent.
His hand tugs on the belt around your neck, using it as something to stabilize him, hips quickly moving back and forth, the sudden speed, and weight of the belt choking you was making you dizzy, thighs still crushing together. Gurgling noises and groans were all that was being heard throughout the room.
Tugging on the belt again his head cocks back, getting lost in the pleasure yet never letting his grip on the phone lighten up. He was going to make sure the boys, Wooyoung specifically, made sure that they remembered just who you belonged to.
“Yes baby, just like that, keep sucking my cock like that.” His cock slamming in and out of your mouth, throat burning with pleasure, his words going straight to your core you let out a small whine.
He brings his head down, now staring at your messy state through the phone screen. Making his toes curl, you looked so fucked out and all you had done was suck his cock so far, he hadnt even touched your pussy yet. Biting his lip to bite back his moans, he picks up speed hips driving full on into your mouth.
“Shit, shit! Tongue out baby.” He says through a feverish groan. Sticking your tongue out he pulls back, cum shooting all over tongue, some over shooting, landing on your upper lip, and nose. You help stroke him making sure to get every drop. You lock eyes with the camera, bringing your mouth to his tip, giving it a small suck before flicking your tongue over his slit once more. Making sure to milk him of every last drop.
You bring your fingers up to wipe the cum off of your nose, putting it on your tongue, sticking it out for the camera to see before closing your mouth and swallowing him down with a groan of satisfaction, running your tongue across your top lip, making a show out of swallowing his cum down. He tosses the phone on the bed, continuing to record. If you wanted to put on a show, he was going to give them a whole damn movie.
Pulling on the belt, making you stand up, his face hovering over yours, one hand shaking down to your heated core, playing with the fabric that was now soaking and wedged between your pussy lips.
“You look like such a slut right now, spit on your tits, lips puffy and swollen. You look like my slut. You are always so filthy.” He rubs over your swollen clit lightly, barely just grazing it, yet the feeling of him touching you after not having touched you at all has your knees buckling.
Turning you around he shoves you face first down into the bed, your ass sticking up for him. You groan as the cool air hits your core. Yunhos fingers run along the inner part of your panties, pulling them back and letting them snap against your clothes core making sure the fabric snapped right against your clit making you cry out. Hands gripping the sheets.
“Please, please, please touch me daddy.” You cry out. There it was the “D” word, you knew how much Yunho loved to be called it during sex. He felt his ego inflate along with his cock, now standing hard and long again. Letting out a small chuckle he grabs your ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, while snapping your panties against your core, repeatedly over and over again. Tears spill from your eyes. You feel a wave of heat crash over your body, your orgasm right on the brink. Your body shivers with pleasure.
“You really are a whore, are you really going to cum from me snapping your panties against your pussy?”
He mocks with a grin on his face, one hand reaching for the phone. Holding it up to record, your wet pussy dripping down behind your knees. Your body jumps with each snap. Placing the phone right under you so it was recording your pussy and the juices dripping down it.
You let out a high pitched whine, he starts snapping your panties harder against you, letting his fingers brush over your swollen clit from time to time.
“Beg, beg and I might touch yo-.”
“Please! Please Daddy, please touch me, fuck me, do something!” You sob out. A grin fills his face, one hand coming down and cracking hard against your ass cheek causing your body to jolt forward. Tugging your panties down to behind your knees making sure that it didn’t obstruct the cameras view.
Giving his cock a couple pumps he pushes into you slowly, causing you to cry out at the relief and pleasure. You felt like you were going to cum any minute. Pushing into you till his hips connect with your ass, your eyes fill with tears.
“I’m not going to last long Yunho.” You whimper out through a choked out sob. Leaning forward he grips the belt bringing you to lean back against his chest. Picking up the phone he holds it in front of you, tears dripping down your face, hips moving starting at a snail pace.
“Look at her crying, like the dumb slut she is. Looking so fucked out and I’m just now in her pussy, what a whore.” He says through a laugh, his dirty talking causing your pussy to clench on him. Tugging the belt back farther causing your back to arch farther. You let out a loud whimper.
“You wanted to put on a show earlier for my members, what happened? Go on slut, perform.” He speaks sarcastically. Tongue darting out, licking your lower lip with a smile gracing his face.
“Daddy please.” You whine out.
“What do you want slut?” Your pussy clenches on him again, you loved when he got like this.
“Please fuck me daddy, please stuff me full.” You whine out, body still arched against his chest. Letting out a low groan he bucks his hips against yours, driving his cock deeper into your warm, wet walls.
“Who do you want to fuck you?”
“You, only you.”
Bringing up the phone to get a better shot of your crying face.
“Who do you want to fuck you baby? Tell them, tell them who you want in this pussy.”
“You, daddy, I want you. I want you and only you in this pussy.” You whine out.
Yunho looks smug into the camera, before tossing it next to him, letting his hand bend you down once again. Undoing the belt from your neck, letting it fall to the side.
Drawing his hips back he slams into your dripping cunt. Causing your body to jerk forward on the need, the sudden movement causing you to cry out. Not giving you time to settle he starts pistoning his hips in and out of you. Pussy clamping down on him with each thrust. Tears are pouring down your face, drool leaking out your mouth. Yunho knows you won’t hold on for much longer, putting his foot up on the bed to get a better angle, he wants to make sure his cock is permanently engraved into your guts.
“Daddy oh daddy!” You scream out gripping the sheets for dear life. His head cocked back, eyes shut tightly, with his mouth slightly hung open. His hands were gripping your hips tightly. The feeling of the vice grip your sopping cunt had on him had his mind fizzing out.
“Fuuuuckkkkk…just like that baby, just like that.” He groaned out, head rolling forward. Cracking one hand down on your ass watching it jiggle.
“Oh my god! Oh my fucking god!” You scream out, tears of pleasure filling your eyes. Hand shooting out behind you to slow down his hips, your high approaching way too fast for your likings. Grabbing your wrist and pinning it to your back, hips still going at a hammering pace.
“Shut up and take it.” He spits out through gritted teeth. Hand cracking down on your ass watching it jiggle. Your face smushed into the mattress letting out choked moans. Wrapping one hand around the front of your neck, bringing your back to his chest. Licking his lips he kisses the side of your neck, hips still hammering away into your sopping wet cunt.
“Yea, that’s it, take it. Take it, slut.” He whispers into your ear while kissing your ear lobe.
Your toes clench, your eyes start to flutter back, you can taste your orgasm that’s how fast it’s beginning to crash into you.
“Talked all that shit earlier, now you can’t take it.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Go on, let them know whose fucking you this good.” His hips drilling harder into you, hand smacking your ass once again, the squeaking of the mattress and the smacking of the headboard cracking into the wall is radiating in the room.
“You are! You..oh my god.. You are!” You sob out, toes curling, pussy clenching harder on his cock.
His hand tightens on your throat, hips now driving deeper and harder into you.
“I’m making you feel this good slut? You think anyone besides me can make you feel this good?” He grits out, biting his lip to hold back his own orgasm.
“Only you can make me feel this good daddy!” You scream out, nails clawing at whatever piece of skin you can grab on him.
“Who. Is. Fucking. You. This. Good. Slut?!” He growls out, hips slamming deeper into you at each punctuation.
“You! Fucking Jeong Yunho! You daddy! Only fucking you!” You scream out, voice now hoarse from all the yelling, the dams of your orgasm breaking, your body shuttering in his hold. Juices running down your legs, down his cock, down to his balls.
Gripping your neck tighter, he slams his hips into you faster, tossing his head back, orgasm now pushing past his point. Tears streaming down your face from how intense your orgasm was, while Yunho is trying to find his own high he’s still helping you ride out your very own.
Shit…that’s it baby, take it, take it like the good slut you are.” He spits through gritted teeth, hand tightening on your throat, hips slapping harshly against your ass. Cumming undone with one harsh final thrust. His legs shake uncontrollably, letting your throat go, you flop forward onto the mattress.
Trying to stabilize himself, one hand on the mattress holding himself up, while the other grabs the phone. Pulling himself out of you slowly, watching his cum instantly start spilling out.
You let out a small groan at your now empty cunt, bringing a hand down to smack your sore ass causing you to let out a small squeak. He spreads your thighs apart, recording his cum spill out of your wet hole. Letting a finger run through your wet lips, giving your clit a small pinch, your hole clenches causing more cum to spill out.
He collects some of the cum that has spilled out, pushing it back into you, causing you to let out another small whimper before messily smearing it all over your pussy. Ending the video he sends it to each of the members, tossing his phone by your head. Crawling up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you towards him.
“Who do you think is going to watch it first?” You groan out, throat sore from all the yelling.
“Wooyoungs hornball self, Hongjoong a close second though.” He says while his fingers slowly start to massage your lower back. Just then Yunhos phone starts ringing “Wooyoung” flashes across the screen, a smirk covering his face.
“I told you.” He says into your neck nipping at the skin, the thought of all the members watching Yunho fuck you has your skin growing hot. Rolling over he slots himself between your legs, picking up the phone he answers the call. Thumb rubbing over your clit.
“Hello..? Yea.. she’s under me right now. You want to see?” He looks at you with lust filled eyes. This was going to be a fun night.
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A/N: I’m so down bad for Dom Yunho, idc what anyone says I’m the number one supporter of the Big Daddy Dom Yunho agenda and no one can change my mind! Everything about this man screams “I’m going to fuck you into next week.” And id HAPPILY let him😀🫣. Leave me walking on crutches sir I’d happily thank ya! He seems like the type that will tap dance on your uterus🤪. Sigh…all my morals get tossed aside for this man😔. Also this photo shoot of Yunho?! Y’all I was howling at the moon like GAWWTTT DDAAAMMMNN this man is so fine😭. Like the look in his eyes just oooo, makes me want to confess my love in the rain for him. Anywayyyysssss I hope you guys enjoy! After this I will be working on some of the requests I’ve gotten so keep your eyes peeled for those!
DO NOT REPOST.
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perseephoneee · 4 months
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rest your eyes [castiel x reader]
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synopsis: you can't sleep so castiel helps you
a/n: i am sick with covid and have been rewatching supernatural with my boo. castiel was literally my second crush ever, and i missed him so much, so i decided to write something (based on the fact i'm an insomniac who would totally sleep on an angel if offered)
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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
It was supposed to go: hunting a monster in the woods and returning to some dingy motel that Dean found at the end of the day. Instead, the chase led you and the rest of the squad so deep into the woods that it was wiser to set up camp than try and trek back to civilization. The camp included a rock outcropping to protect from the weather, a shitty fire, and a lack of comfortable sleeping arrangements. Sam and Dean were used to sleeping on almost anything so they could pass out immediately. You, on the other hand, had insomnia sleeping in a regular bed and knew you were going to struggle to fall asleep with nothing more than the moss covering the ground. 
Castiel didn’t sleep, so he was keeping watch. You had your jacket balled up as a pillow under your head, and instead of closing your eyes and trying to encourage rest in your body, you were staring at Cas through thick lashes. He looked up at the sky, a serene expression on his face like he was thinking about what each star meant. The light from the fire flickered across his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, even his cupid’s bow. Sometimes, you were struck by just how beautiful he was, like some Greek artists, the idea of the perfect man, sculpted to perfection and thrown at your feet for just you to enjoy. You wondered how you ended up so lucky to be blessed with his presence. 
“Why do humans enjoy looking at the stars?” Castiel asks you in a soft voice to not rouse Sam and Dean. You should’ve guessed that he would notice that you were awake.
“I think…it’s nice to think about things far away from your own life,” you hum, giving up on your rock bed and sitting up, brushing leaves and other debris out of your hair. Cas looks at you, the blue in his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope from the dancing lights around you. “And the concept of stars is beautiful,” you sighed, curling your legs up and under. Cas tilted his head at that, brows slightly furrowed. It was your favorite expression on him. 
“Stars are just clouds of gas and light,” Castiel answers. 
“But they’ve traveled thousands of light years to reach us, even if they don’t realize it,” you smile, your eyes tracing the path of various constellations. You can feel Cas’ gaze, but don’t dare look over. Looking into Cas’ eyes is falling headfirst into an abyss you didn’t prepare for. 
“I like that,” Castiel exclaims, a hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s a…human way of looking at it.”
“I am human,” you chuckle.
“Yes, you are,” he resumes, staring at the stars. It’s silent again; the only sound is the crackling of the fire and your breaths. Sometimes, the quiet is interrupted by Sam’s snoring, but you don’t mind. Your boys deserve the rest. 
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Castiel inquires.
“It’s hard for me to sleep, especially out here,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Castiel looks troubled by that statement like he is personally responsible for your ability to sleep. “When I was little, sometimes my Mom would put me in the car and drive me around in circles, singing or telling stories until I passed out.” You remember fondly, smiling a little to yourself. “I don’t think the ground is as comfortable as a car seat, though.”
“Would you like me to tell you a story?” Castiel asks. “If you need a pillow…you can use me.” He looks slightly uncomfortable, and the tips of his ears turn red, making you grin. He never fails to be adorable when he wants to be, and you know he’s offering out of the goodness of his heart. Still, the ID part of your brain is brainstorming all the ways he could profess his love for you, something that you stamp down as you shuffle over to him. He leans his back against one of the rock walls, stretching his legs out. He had already removed his trench coat, offering it to you as a blanket. It was large enough to swallow you and smelled precisely like Castiel in a way you wanted to remember for the rest of your life. You took your makeshift pillow and set it on his lap, laying your head there and curling up under his arm, which he hesitantly rested on your shoulder. You knew you had to coax your ever-beating heart to calm down if you were ever going to sleep, but it was hard when you were lying on the lap of an angel you had a crush on. Still, Castiel was a gentleman who didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. 
“What’s your story?” you ask, voice small as you close your eyes and relax your body. 
“Early before humans won the race for my Father’s next creation, there was a pool going on for what Earth’s next great invention would be…”
Castiel’s voice, in its low timbre, started to lull you to sleep as you listened to his story. You liked listening to him talk, and he occasionally added funny anecdotes that would make you smile. You started tuning out of the story, instead focusing on the warmth from his lap, the smell of the open air and him, and especially how his fingers had started to absentmindedly stroke shapes on your arm. Eventually, you were pulled into a deep sleep, lingering in that space where you were only slightly conscious but not awake. That space was the only way you could feel Castiel petting your hair, brushing his fingers down your scalp to your neck and back to your shoulder. Even in your dreams that night, you swear you could feel his weight everywhere. 
You slept peacefully, without interruption, the whole night. Until morning, when the sound of voices roused you from your slumber.
“...did you get a girl in your lap?” Dean asked, sounding incredulous. 
“She is not in my lap. She is lying on half of my lap,” Castiel answered, ever the stickler for exact estimates. You could hear Dean’s groan and sarcastic retort. 
“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep?” you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut and pushing your face more profoundly into your pillow-jacket-thing. 
“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to go hunting,” Dean called out. You let out a curse word, relaxing as you felt Castiel pat your head reassuringly. 
“You are much more Sleeping Beauty than I am,” you responded, finally opening your eyes to the daylight but not making a move to get up. Eventually, you realized you’d have to move, so you begrudgingly sat up, cracking your neck as you did so. “Thanks for the story, Cas,” you said, averting eye contact with the angel to avoid him seeing the light flush on your cheeks. You gave him back his coat, and he kindly removed a twig that got stuck in your sweater. 
“Did you sleep alright?” he inquired. You thought back to it and realized that for the first time in years, you slept through the whole night. 
“Yeah, I… slept well.” 
With that, Castiel smiled and helped you up. You were more alert on a hunt than you had been in a long time, all because a particular angel helped you achieve the best sleep of your life.
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rubberduckyrye · 16 days
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Okay in all seriousness. There's something that I REALLY want to talk about as an open discussion with the fandom, but. This is not going to be a very nice thing to hear/talk about.
It's about how Gonta is treated by the fandom.
As a fan of all the V3 characters now, and as someone who has always been a fan of Gonta, and as someone who has many mental disabilities and two diagnosed neurodivergancies... I'm tired of playing nice about it.
You all need to stop being ableist towards Gonta.
I've mentioned in the past that I don't like shitting on personal interpretations. I don't like saying something is or is not canon because narration is just a big web of text that you try to decipher with your own personal biases, experiences, and thoughts. That's why two literary analysts analyzing the same text with the same literary criticism rules can come to wildly different conclusions--why people develop different headcanons from the same canonical information.
But one of the things that challenged my integrity is just how many people view Gonta as this innocent, naive, ignorant, baby boy who can do no harm/never has a complicated/dirty/violent/sexual thought in his life ever.
This incredibly ableist interpretation of the character bothered me for, well, obvious reasons (See: It's fucking ableist, need I say more?) but I never challenged it as harshly as I am now because to be frank, it's not my place to tell people how to HC a character. It still isn't. But I've pretty much given up on my integrity on the subject and have decided to go all in on discussing why this interpretation of Gonta is just. Really bad.
First of all, not to promote my own analyses here or anything, but I think this analysis I did of Gonta explains a LOT in regards to the ableism the cast gives him in canon. I also think that this subtle ableism is why the fandom is so bad with Gonta's characterization in headcanons and fanfic--because they've seen how the cast treats him, and they think it's normal. They don't see the microaggressions, they don't see the subtle ableism in the cast--they just see this big giant idiot who speaks like Tarzan in the English version (which... I don't actually know why people assume Tarzan (Thinking of Disney's version) is stupid. Like as a boy he had to reinvent the spear with no one to guide him on how to do it. He was able to strategize and outsmart "civilized" men in the final showdown. Still I digress) and don't see the literal genius behind his social awkwardness.
There is also another very important point I'm going to make in addition to this, and it's going to be very uncomfortable to Gonta fans who insist he's nothing but a sweet baby who only has pure thoughts. Especially to the fans who insist he "can't be sexual" or think it's weird to ship him with his peers.
Sorry to burst your bubble, but... Gonta blatantly has sexual desire and gets horny right in canon.
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This is further clarified here:
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It wasn't a matter of Gonta didn't want to touch her because touching someone in their underwear was inappropriate, or being flustered because she was in her underwear which is inappropriate...
It was literally a "weird feeling" that made him unable to approach her or touch her. A "weird feeling" that Miu makes pretty obvious as to what it was--sexual arousal.
He literally was sexually attracted to and felt sexual arousal from looking at Miu in her underwear. He had sexual feelings and thoughts about Miu. Why?
Because Gonta is a young man.
Gonta is a brilliant, talented young man who has normal human thoughts for someone his age--sexual desires, upsetting thoughts, complicated thoughts, ectect. He is not a child, he is not mentally stunted (I've been informed that people have literally said this on Ao3 for the NSFW Gonta fics, please for the love of god stop that)
I think the reason why Gonta fans typically want to keep him as a "pure baby child who can do no wrong" is because treating him like the young adult that he is makes it harder for them to justify Chapter 4. Every time I've seen a Gonta fan that hates Kokichi, it's always followed by the sentiment of "Kokichi manipulated and abused Gonta into killing Miu, so it's all Kokichi's fault." They're afraid of nuance and liking a character with the grey morality of genuinely thinking Mercy Killing the cast is a viable option, because it challenges their own morals about the character they adore.
To those people who read this and are upset: You can and should like Gonta! Gonta is a magnificent character who showcases the subtle way microaggressions can manifest and hurt people, he's a good-hearted person and a literal genius, he cares deeply for his friends and loves everyone with upmost sincerity.
But.
You need to re-evaluate your stance on Gonta if you think he's a stupid, naive fool who Kokichi manipulated. You need to re-evaluate why you think those thoughts, why you think Gonta being shipped with anyone is "Kinda weird" or "has weird consent problems" or "give you the ick." You have to challenge yourself and ask yourself uncomfortable questions in regards to why you treat Gonta like a child when canon has proven otherwise, why you think he cannot have violent or sexual thoughts, why he can't think mercy killing his class is the only way to save them.
This isn't an attack on you--but understand that these specific takes on Gonta? They are ableist in nature. They belittle and dismiss him, they treat him like a child, an idiot who can't think for himself--and you have to come to terms with the fact that Gonta is a far more complex character with complicated thoughts and feelings who is a young adult. Not a child. A young adult.
So again, ask yourself this: Why are you treating this young adult like he's a toddler?
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houseofanticipation · 8 months
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You've always been an outdoor person. You're a camper, a hiker, an explorer. You feel at home in this forest; miles upon miles of trees in every direction, the only hints of civilization a handful of campgrounds and the odd ranger station. Years of experience have made you comfortable here, in the cool, quiet air.
Maybe too comfortable.
It's late morning when you first notice someone behind you on the trail. You don't see them when you look back. You just their footsteps, the sound of cracking twigs and crunching leaves. You expect them to pass you, as you're taking a pretty leisurely pace, but the footsteps always seem to be about 20 feet behind you. You start to get annoyed. This person's thousand-pound feet are ruining your nice, quiet walk. You step to the side of the trail and wait the person to pass.
And so do they.
That makes you nervous. You start walking again, and they walk with you. You stop, they stop. You begin to think you might be in trouble. Careful to keep the noise at you front, you take the folded trail map out of your pocket and begin to scan it. There's a ranger station not far ahead; if you can just make it that far, you might be safe.
You break into a brisk walk, and your pursuer keeps pace. This trail was made intentionally with a lot bends in it, so each hiker or group of hikers could feel like the wilderness was their own, without running into many other people. It means your pursuer can stay relatively close to you without ever entering your line of sight. You're close now, you recognize the little footbridge over this creek, so you break into a run, skidding on mud and dried leaves as you make a mad dash for safety. The footsteps crash through the forest behind you, and you're too afraid to turn around but you're sure they're gaining on you. You see the ranger station up ahead, a little log cabin with a green door, and you practically fly up the front steps, through the unlocked door. You slam it shut behind you and throw the deadbolt, sliding down the door in a mess of exhaustion and nerves.
The ranger station consists of a single room, with a ladder up to a small loft space where the ranger sleeps. You were hoping to find help, but the ranger isn't here at the moment. That's okay. Just the locked door on its own makes you feel a lot better. You listen intently for any sound outside, but all you hear is birdsong, and wind through the trees.
Then someone is trying to turn the door handle. The sound makes you jump, but you try to stay brave. You're still safe. They can't get in.
You hear a man's voice on the other side of the door. "Hello?"
You summon your courage and call back. "Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"
The voice sounds surprised. "I...I don't want anything from you ma'am. It's just...well, you're kind of in my office." You get to your hands and knees and crawl to the front window, just peeking over the sill. Outside is a flustered looking man in a ranger uniform. Relief floods your body. You let him in.
"Thank god," he says. "I'm not supposed to leave the station unlocked, I thought at first some teenagers had gotten in here and...hey, what's wrong?" He's seen the look in your eyes, the way you're still panting, the state of your hair. You explain to him about the footsteps, the chase through the woods, how you hid here for safety. His eyes grow wider with your every word. "Shit, that's terrible. Drink some water, get yourself hydrated while I check around out there." He offers you his canteen. You begin to tell him you have your own water, but he waves you off. "No, no, I can't let you use your own rations. I've got extra water reserves here just for unprepared hikers, I won't run out. Please."
You take the canteen and drink, sitting on a hard folding chair while the ranger goes back outside. Now that you think about it, you're actually incredibly thirsty. You finish off the ranger's canteen, and feel a little bad about it, but he seemed insistent that you should have it.
You're exhausted. It had already been a long day of hiking, and then you went and spent the rest of your energy running through the forest. You were probably overreacting, you think as your eyelids begin to droop. Maybe it was just an illusion, your own footsteps somehow echoed back to you by the forest. In the warmth and safety of the ranger station, the fear you felt before seems almost silly.
Your limbs feel sluggish and disconnected. Your head seems to be full of rocks. Your eyelids fall closed, and you're out before you hit the floor.
You come to little by little, slowly becoming aware of several odd sensation at once. The first thing you notice is that you feel good. Incredible, actually. You're having trouble wrapping your head around why exactly—you're having trouble putting thoughts together, connecting raw sensation to ideas or meanings. But you like how you're feeling, you know that much.
There's more to it though, because you also hurt, which you don't like. There's something rough pressing up against your back, and your arms and legs are sore. You're cold, too, colder than you've been in a long time, and a cool wind stings your bare skin. Why is your skin bare?
You open your eyes. You're in a forest clearing, a place you recognize. It's a popular camping spot, secluded but not far from the trail. You're on a tree—tied to it, you realize, that's the rough thing on your back, and the reason you're so sore. Coils of rope around your wrists are pulling your arms up and behind you, like you're giving the tree a backwards hug. Something similar is happening with your legs, and a rope across your throat is keeping you from pointing your head down.
You are naked.
The ranger is there, leaning into you, and for a confused moment you think he's trying to untie you, but then the whole picture suddenly falls into place. He is raping you, slowly and indulgently, moaning openly as he slides cock up and down, in and out of your pussy. Fear jolts you awake, your fight-or-flight response taking control, but you you have no way to fight and now means of fleeing. You begin to scream, thrashing against your bonds, but they're solid and secure. You're not going anywhere.
"Oh good you're...oh!...awake," says the ranger, still inside you. "I have to tell you, I thought you looked cute when I decided to follow you, but I had no idea you'd be this...o...oh, fuck...this good. I think you've got the tightest little cunt I've ever fucked."
Just because that pleasurable feeling isn't wanted anymore doesn't mean it's going away. With every thrust of the ranger's cock, the feeling builds inside you, threatening to spill over. "Please," you whimper. You can't cum, not here, not to this. "Please stop, let me go."
The ranger grins and looks at you. He gives you an extra deep thrust and you moan in spite of yourself, your muscles contracting and your pussy tightening around him. "Why would I...oh, fuck that's good...why would I stop when you're clearly enjoying this just as much as I am?"
Tears stream down your face. You can't control it now. Waves of tension wash your body, each one making you seize tighter, arching your back, straining your bonds. As the final wave crashes over you the ranger gives one last moan and buries his face in your neck, his cum seeming to warm your shivering body from the inside. You go limp, wobbly, all the tension draining from your body with the cum that spills forth as he withdraws his cock.
The ranger buckles up his pants and leans over, hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck, girl. I can't just keep that cunt to myself. People need to know!" He goes behind you somewhere, and you can hear leaves rustle. When he comes back he holds a stake in his hand: a signpost, with a printed metal sign attached. He shows it to you:
Elk Trail Cum Dump
The park thanks you for your patronage. Feel free to use this receptacle as you see fit.
"I had this made up a few years back." Says the ranger as he hammers it into the ground in front of you. "We've had a handful of cum dumps, but I'll tell you what, you're definitely the best." He looks you up and down, then steps forward and sticks his middle and index fingers up inside you. You tighten reflexively, and he whistles. "Fuuuck me that's good! Alright, I'll probably be back tonight with some friends. New cum dump always attracts some attention. Stay tight, honey." He gives your cheek a little slap and walks away.
It hurts for a while. The bark against your skin. The ropes digging into you. Your shoulders, supporting your weight for so long. But after your sixth hour or so it all just fades into a general, dispassionate numbness.
People walk by sometimes. You hear them on the trail and call out for help. They come, usually but they don't help. A pair of young women laugh and take selfies with their fingers in your pussy. And old man rapes you breathlessly while is wife rolls her eyes and laughs good-naturedly. A middle aged woman with a big backpack says she's going to help you out, which turns out to mean producing a vibrator and giving you the most mind-melting, earth-shattering orgasm of your life, before saying a polite goodbye and leaving you tied up.
When your bladder gets full you just piss right there. It's not a bad way to do it, really; with your legs pulled back like this, you manage not to get much on you. You're a little more concerned about what happens when you need to shit, but you suppose there's a chance you can hold it until you die of hunger or thirst.
A man with a bushy beard gives you a long look before leaving and coming back with a long branch, one end whittled barkless and smooth. He inserts the smooth end into your pussy and sets the other end on the ground, held up only by your natural grip. He instructs you to bounce up and down on it while he masturbates. It's a little thick for you, but it actually feels pretty good, and you try to put on a good show for him as thanks. He lets you keep in there when he leaves, as a way to pass the hours.
You fall asleep just as the sun is setting. You find if you rest your head against the tree just so, you can relax without it falling forward and choking you on the rope across your neck. When you wake again it's full night, and someone has built a little fire in a circle of stones. A dozen or so men are lounging around, laughing, chatting, drinking beers out of a cooler. And raping you of course, but you barely even notice that now. All it really means to you is that someone took away your nice stick.
The ranger is among the men, though he's out of uniform. He raises a beer to you when he sees you're awake. "Welcome back to the land of the living! My buddies here are loving that little pussy of yours."
"You shouldn't have open flames out here," you croak, your throat dry. "You could start a...a...ah! Forest fire." Your sentence is interrupted when the man currently inside you does a strange sort of twisting thing you don't quite understand, and the jolt of pleasure takes you by surprise.
"Ah, fuck you," says the ranger. "Which of us here is the park ranger and which is the cum dump? I know my way around a fire."
"If you say so," you say as the man adds another load of cum to your collection.
He's drunk, you can tell. They're all a little drunk, their words a little slurred, their movements a little wobbly. As the next guy slides into you, you nod at the bottle in his hand. "Hey, let me get a little of that." He holds the bottle up to your lips obligingly, and while most of it splashes down your chin and across your breasts, you get a few good swigs in. It's a party, after all.
When everyone's had their turn on you the boys decide to play a game called "Hide the Herring," which turns out to consist of everyone scattering to find objects, and then taking turns trying to fit them inside you, the winner being the one with the largest object that manages to fit completely inside you. You get several different rocks, some sticks, big chunk of frozen together ice cubes, One guy tries to fit a full, unopened bottle of beer in you, fat end first. It stretches you almost to your limit but he manages, with a bit of clitoral stimulation, to get it all the way up to the neck. He says, "if you can hold on to it for ten seconds you can drink the whole thing," and you agree gamely to give it a try. He takes his hand away and the whole crowd counts down as you clench around this bottle, harder to do when you can't close your legs. You can feel it slipping, little by little, but when the count reaches zero it's still there, and you let it slip out into its owner's waiting hands. He cracks it open and holds it to your mouth, and you close your lips around it. You don't want to lost any like last time. The group is so impressed by the way you open your throat and let it drain into you that they give you another, and another after that. By the end of your fourth beer you're definitely feeling the alcohol, and the last of the fear and misery of the situation falls away like the last remnants of a lizard's skin. Being the Elk Trail Cum Dump, you guess, isn't so bad after all.
The winner of Hide the Herring ends up being a full ten pack of hot dogs. The entrant opens it up, uses two of the hot dogs to pack the wrapping into your pussy, and then spends about fifteen minutes cutting the other eight into pieces and popping them, one at a time, into your asshole. There's a lot of arguing about whether using your ass is allowed, or if it still counts as one object once the package is open, but it doesn't matter to you. Being filled this full feels amazing, and you manage to convince one of the guys to fuck you with your ass stuffed like this. Chunks of hot dog pop out of your ass, two and three at a time as you cum, and he leaves you dripping, feeling warm and gooey.
You get fucked a few more times as they set up camp for the night. Everyone's cum at least once by now, so the loads are getting a little thin, but that's okay. You feel as though you are melting into the tree, becoming a part of it. When you wake tomorrow, you imagine your arms and legs will have grown into its bark, your hair becoming leaves, your heart and lungs and mind becoming wood. Nothing more than a handful of tight wet holes for hikers and campers to enjoy. With this image glowing in your mind's eye, you drift off into a contented sleep.
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ghouljams · 6 months
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Gritting my teeth thinking about Austenian Ghost and Goose...
His gloved hand gingerly cups yours as he leads you into the ballroom, your fingers just hovering over his while you hold your skirt to make your way down the stairs. Ghost tips his head to the side, stretching his neck, there's a stiffness in his shoulders that speaks to his military training. You glance at the length of his neck, the dark mask covering the lower half of his face, he'd be a handsome sight if he could keep his mouth shut.
"Try not to bite anyone," he grumbles under his breath at you. You plaster on a demure smile as he leads you to greet the host.
"Are you going to speak to me all night? Or can I expect a drink at some point," you murmur back, doing your best to keep unheard as you bow your head to the hostess.
"Would love one," Ghost breathes, his fingers tighten around yours as he turns to lead you into the crowd. You have plenty of people to greet, and a horrible escort with which to greet them.
You slip your fingers from his hand and slide them up the back of your neck, checking your hair. At your side Ghost clenches his fingers into a tight fist and drops it to his side. You flick your fan open, glancing around the room. It's warm, and you'd rather find someone you know quickly to save you from bearing Ghost's presence too long.
"You're not in want of a wife, are you?" You ask him with a soft sigh. You can feel him tense next to you.
"No." You give him time to finish the thought, fanning yourself in the meantime. You spare him a glance, and catch his eyed darting away from you.
"Sparing the ladies your riveting conversational skills," you hum, your fan stalling when you hear him snort. You snap your fan shut when you spot one of your friends and start towards them with a smile. Ghost's large hand grabs your shoulder and you smack your fan against his fingers. They only tighten their grip.
"Where are you going?" His tone is cold. You can't imagine what's irritated him now.
"To fill my dance card," you grab his hand to pry it off of you, turning to make sure you can look in his eyes when you tell him, "be a good dog while you're off leash, I don't want to have to take you home early."
Something steely crosses his face, his brows drawing down as his eyes narrow. He growls, and you drop your fan into his hand. It's a lovely night and you're not going to let an overgrown and over-grumpy soldier weigh you down. You have a nice new dress, you have friends to talk to, and despite your father's best efforts you have no intention of finding a husband this season. Actually you're starting to think Simon might be around to hurt your odds at marriage.
Ghost, you remind yourself, not Simon. Never Simon.
Ghost grips your fan watching you grin and hug your friends. You smile up at a man who bows and kisses your hand. You offer your dance card for him, and he smiles penciling down his name. Wood splinters in Ghost's fist. Price was right, men circle you like flies circle honey, each louse eagerly throwing his hat in the ring of your affections. You laugh and cuddle close to your friend, the picture of charm and civility. The picture of discomfort.
He needs a drink. Not for the courage of it, but he needs something to loosen the tightness in his muscles. Otherwise the next time you touch him something might snap, and he'll do something truly stupid. Like fill up your dance card with his name.
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so long, chicago
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Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.
Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.
After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.
You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.
The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.
“Hey.” You said softly.
He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”
“The movers should be here any minute.”
Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.
“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”
“I guess that’s nice.”
“You guess?”
“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”
“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.
“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”
“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”
Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”
You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.
“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.
“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.
“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”
“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”
Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.
“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.
“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”
“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”
“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.
You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.
Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.
“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.
As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.
You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.
It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.
176 notes · View notes
chlorinecake · 8 months
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convenient chances II
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🎱 pairing: yandere!stalker!enhypen x fem!reader
🎱 cw: language, non-con kissing and touching, reader gets tortured-ish, slight dumbification, use of the nickname "doll"
🎱 wc: 3k — read part one and three here
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YOU AWOKE TO the feeling of the once running vehicle coming to a complete stop, doors unlocking at every which side.
Niki nudged your exhausted body, “Rise and shine, sleepy head.” Meanwhile, Heeseung hooked his arms under your armpits, guiding you out of the car. Your legs hit the ground, drawing your attention to your surroundings. From what you could tell, it was still fairly late in the night, and you were in the middle of the woods. Not too unfamiliar of a scene to you, but still a good ways away from civilization.
Jake ran over to hold your feet, Heeseung and him now holding you in a hammock position. They carried you past a campfire to a ledge on the cliff where the rest of the boys were standing ominously, Sunoo deciding to stay back in the car.
“Now look. We're not gonna hurt you unless we have to, so consider this all an unruly warning. A reminder of who you belong to,” Jay slithered, grabbing a stick from the ground to trail your frightened features. “You're not making any sense, Jay! If this was all apart of your plan to get my attention, why’d you have to kill Mandy?”
The six boys exchanged looks, laughing hysterically at your pitiful state.
“We didn’t kill her, jackass,” Sunghoon spat.
“What do you think life is? Some sort of simulation where people do the same things every single day?”
“She got the night off,” Jake finished, “so I covered for her shift.”
You internally sighed in relief, "Great, so you’re just trying to scare me, then?”
Heeseung peered at you from above, “Are you scared?”
You spat in his face, causing him to snicker in amusement. He dropped one of your arms to wipe your spit from his face, holding you up by one arm. “I like her," he grinned, reached down to squeeze your cheek harshly.
Jay stuck the stick he held in the fire before sealing the red hot edge at the side of your waist.
“Ahhgg,” you groaned in pain, provoking Jay to dig the burning stick even further into your skin, “Don’t fuck this up for me, love. I'm trying to be nice here, and you're only making things more difficult.”
“Alright, ladies, let’s stay on track, please,” Jungwon complained, impatiently nudging Jay’s shoulder.
“Right. We’re gonna ask you a question. Though, there’s only one right answer.”
“W-wha-what?"
“Slow down, dummy. Let him finish,” Niki retorted at your stuttering.
“Fuck this, walk her to the ledge,” Sunghoon directed, Heeseung and Jake guiding your frame to the cliff, their grips tightening around your wrists and ankles the more you struggled against them.
“It’s like you want us to punish you,” Heeseung smirked, swinging you back in forth dangerously close to the edge, Jake chuckled at your trembling. You screwed your eyes shut, preferring not to see whether they’d actually throw you over the cliff or not.
Jay stood in the background, observing your terror before speaking.
“There are two ways this night can end, ____. One, you fight back and my boys will do with you as they please.”
Jungwon and Niki snickered to each other.
Your lower lip quivered at the sound of their devilish tone's, feeling your arms and legs go numb from the awkward position you hung at.
“Two, you and I continue our relationship as if nothing ever changed and you swear your loyalty to me.”
“Booooo,” Sunghoon whined sarcastically, “I like the first option better.”
“The choice is yours, love. So choose wisely.”
“Fuck," you groaned exhaustedly, "fine! I’ll go with you! Just please make them put me down!”
“Tsk tsk tsk. You were so close, love, but I’m not sure if I favor the delivery of your answer. Try again, sweetheart, I know you can do it.”
“J-Jay,” your voice cracked with frustration, feeling the two rascals starting to swing you again.
You hated that he persisted on making this a difficult situation for you, even though you had already complied. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the moisture in your eyes before continuing.
“I’ll go with you, Jay. I swear, I won’t leave you again!”
“And?”
“And my love and loyalty belongs to you, Jay. Always and forever.”
The wilderness fell silent, the sound of your jagged breaths filling the atmosphere.
Jay kneeled down to meet your tired figure that hung in the air, pulling your face to his before kissing the corner of your lips.
“I know, my love. And I’ve worked so hard to make sure you finally know that, too.”
He gave Jake and Heeseung a look before they released your aching limbs from their hostile grasp, your body flopping on the rocky ground.
“Eugh,” you grunted as Jay pulled you into his hold.
“All of you get in the car!” Sunghoon ordered, rounding up the rest of the boys as Jay carried you to the vehicle, dropping his friends off at their places before bringing you back to his house.
Your new “home.”
THE NEXT DAY, you and Jay were at a fancy restaurant just like old times. He bought you the most lovely black dress and stilettos to wear for the evening, complimented with pearl accents that matched his fancy wrist watch. It had been a while since you went out for food other than the convenience store, especially not with your ex-boyfriend.
He pulled your chair out for you before sitting at the other side of the table, analyzing the menu before initiating small talk.
“So, how’s life been? We haven't had many opportunities to catch up in a while.”
You ran a finger over the dish titles under the plastic covering of the menu, “I don’t see the point in discussing my life details with you when I’m sure you’ve already seen everything.”
Jay paused for a moment as if hitting a brick wall, clenching his jaw at your reply.
“Can’t you see I’m trying here, ____?” He pleaded, looking into your frustrated eyes, “I know I can’t take back what I’ve done to you, but this is a start. I already explained that my intentions were noble, I just-“ he paused again.
“You’re just crazy about me, right? Is that it?” You teased, crossing your legs under the table.
Jay snickered, showcasing his cat-like teeth.
“See? I knew you understood me,” he feigned glee, peering in a little closer over the table before whispering, “now stop disrespecting me or I’ll take your ass home and demonstrate just how crazy you make me.” His hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze that didn’t match the cruel nature of his words.
What was wrong with him?
“Good evening, and welcome to The Diamond. What can I start you guys off with? Drinks, appetizers?”
"I'll start with an iced lemon water,” Jay smiled, ���and for you, love?”
“Iced water sounds lovely,” you smiled back, fighting the urge to kick him under the table.
“Anything else before we move onto entrées,” the waiter asked. Your eyes were so stuck on a Jay that you hadn’t realized it was Niki dressed as the server. You felt like the ceiling was caving in on you.
“Is everything okay, Miss?” Niki asked sarcastically, tilting a mocking head at your anxious state.
“Y-yes, I’m alright,” you stammered, trying to remain calm.
“I’ll let you know if we need anything else,” Jay finished, Niki bowing before running off to serve other tables.
“You brought back up?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him.
“No, doll, I’ve only ordered water so far. No need to panic, I’m paying anyways,” he chuckled, observing the menu once again.
You hated the nickname doll, as it only added to your circumstances of being his play thing. You watched as a thick bead of water trailed down the side of your glass, a bright yellow lemon floating in the mixture. You stuck your bare hand into the cup, bringing the lemon to your lips to suck on.
The slurping noises you made caught Jay’s attention, “What’re you doing, ____?” He asked in shock at your sudden change in behavior.
A few drops of the lemon dripping on your tits, drawing Jay's attention to your cleavage. You got up from the table, feeling Niki's threatening gaze burn holes into your back. You pushed your chest out, “Can you clean me up, Jay? I’m such a mess,” you pouted getting on your knees for him.
“____, this isn’t funny. You know better than to act out in a place like this.”
“Don’t keep your dumb doll waiting, Jay-Jay,” you ignored him, reaching a hand to stroke his thighs.
He snatched your wrist with such a force that the contact with his skin and yours made a snapping sound.
“That was your last strike, love. You don’t get any more chances to behave.”
For whatever reason, you didn’t feel threatened by his words. You knew that your actions would only lead to the inevitable cycle that Jay planned to evoke on you anyways.
He guided you through the restaurant, a few people observing the event in disgust. “She’s just a little tipsy,” Jay remarked halfheartedly, rushing through the doors before shoving you in the passenger's seat of his truck.
“What the hell was that, Jay?”
“Pfft, you’re asking me that?”
“How am I supposed to trust you when you bring your goons around to watch me? When you threaten my safety over my emotions?”
Jay shook his head at your words, “you're not the victim here, love.”
You scoffed before he continued.
“I may have hurt you physically, but you broke my fucking heart, and that can never be healed. Not until I correct your behavior,” he frowned, pulling into a driveway.
You didn’t bother asking why you were here because you knew this place all too well. It was the same place he’d take you whenever he wanted to “teach you a lesson.”
He called it his classroom.
So here you were, a student smelling of sweet citrus with your aggravated teacher and his hostile cane. You imagined each whack would feel more like a hit to your mind than it’d hurt you physically. Because that was the thing about Jay.
He’d cut you from the surface, but forget that those wounds often travel much deeper.
He held the small of your back as he guided you to the doorstep at the front porch, taking in your nervous frame.
“____,” he began, taking your hands in his but your gaze fell to the ground, fearful tears starting to spill from your eyes. So much for holding it in all this time.
“Save you tears love,” Jay continued, lifting up your face and wiping the moisture from your cheeks, “I’m not gonna hurt you anymore.”
His words delayed your tears mid-stream, staring into his eyes with confusion.
“What are you saying, Jay?” You sniffled.
“I’m saying that I considered your words. 'How can you trust someone who hurts you?' That’s what you said, right?”
You hummed in response, more keen on listening to him than speaking for yourself.
"Well. In that case, I promise that I'll never lift a finger against you in a violent way. From now on, my hands will only be used to love and adore you, my love. Do you understand?"
You felt the tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes again.
This promise of his was almost too good to be true.
"Y-yes, Jay," you hiccuped, face feeling hot from the breath you held, "I understand."
Suddenly, he pulled you close to him, tenderly connecting his lips with yours. You didn’t reject his kiss because for whatever reason, you craved his comforting.
He broke from the embrace, unlocking the door to reveal the oozing black that danced within the structure of the eerily familiar house. He nodded, initiating you to enter without his force. "I'll see you in two hours," he said as you noticed the six pairs of soulless eyes staring back at you. Your legs grew stiff, but Jay pushed you in, locking the door behind you before going about his evening.
You beat on the door like a mad woman, “Fu- ughh! Jay! Please don’t leave me in here with them,” you screamed desperately, shaking at the door knob in terror. You heard footsteps approaching you from behind before Heeseung, the eldest of the bunch, grabbed your shoulder viscously, pinning you against the cold door.
“Nice to see you again, cutie. I’m sure you remember me from our last encounter,” he grinned, leaning in to breathe his hot breath against your neck, “it’s funny how you smiled in my face while I thought about getting you in a position like this,” he bit down on your skin, “vulnerable, and so fucking pretty for me,” he groaned, harshly kissing at your neck.
Sunghoon pushed him out of the way, giving him a fed up expression, "and I’m sure you remember Jay’s rule.”
Heeseung wiped the wetness from his mouth, “yeah? And what rule was that, fun police?”
“That we’re allowed to mess around with her how we please as long as we avoid leaving any obvious bruises,” Jake finished, cringing at the teeth marks Heeseung left on your neck.
“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, “I should’ve went for the tits.”
You felt nauseous in the middle of all this, having to listen to the perverted boys debate on they'd abuse you. Niki made his way around the corner, walking in your direction.
He pouted back at you facetiously, punching you in the stomach and snickering as you fell to the ground, “you’re such a fucking crybaby,” he spat, grabbing you by the hair just to let you go harshly.
You looked around the dark room, noticing Sunoo standing in a corner alone, mirroring your anguish. You got up and ran to him, falling in his lap before weeping. “Sun, I know what I said to you, but-" your words were cut off by him pushing you away, the back of your head clashing with the hard floor.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” he bit back, walking over you as if you were a piece of trash, “finish her off, Jungwon. I don’t wanna have to hear her screams once you get started, so I’ll be outside.”
“Me, too,” Jake added, “I don’t have enough energy for the crybaby tonight,” he rolled his eyes, joining Sunoo outside.
“As you wish, hyung,” Jungwon grinned, grabbing you by the hands before dragging you to the center of the room. The four remaining boys huddled around you like kids in a candy store. Jungwon and Niki held your arms and legs down while Sunghoon kept your head in place.
Heeseung walked over with two large buckets of water, placing them down before coming over to straddle your frame. “How about we play a little game. As I'm sure you’ve learned, there's only one right answer,” he slithered, snaking a hand down to pinch the soft skin of your thigh.
"Your body will give me your answer before your mouth does,” he grinned as Sunghoon reached his hand over to cover your mouth. You fought under Niki and Jungwon’s grip, muffled screams rumbling from your throat.
“I’ve heard that most girls scream when they like it,” Sunghoon chuckled. Heeseung removed Sunghoon’s hand before forcing his tongue past your lips, his tongue fighting against yours.
Sunghoon tried holding your head in place, but he lost his grip as you shook away, biting down on Heeseung’s lip, “FUCK,” he grunted, tasting his own blood fill his mouth.
"She's definitely more of a fighter than a lover," Jungwon began amused, "maybe that's why Jay had so much trouble keeping her around."
By now, you had long forgotten about the large buckets of water sitting a few feet away until Heeseung’s weight left your body, grabbing one of the buckets before dumping it over your face in a stream that lasted thirty seconds.
You hiccuped on the water, struggling to fight the agonizingly steady stream.
“Jake, Sunoo!” Heeseung growled, calling the boys back in.
“Yeah, what’s up?” They asked in unison.
“I’m gonna need a lot more water,” Heeseung ordered, watching you pant for breath beneath him. “Any last words before they get back, because I’m afraid from here, you’ll only be able to burp for the next week," he snickered.
You shook your head violently, more so as a cry for help than an answer to his sadistic question. Heeseung grabbed the second bucket of water, cooing at your misery, "I guess you're choosing to end things on a cliff hanger, for now," Niki smirked, swapping places with Sunghoon so he could restrain your head movements.
That's when the second dry-drowning circuit began, Heeseung pouring the chilly water all over your face. This stream lasted longer than the last one, or maybe it just felt that way because you hadn't had the chance to catch your breath.
The devilish boys would continue to do this for another two hours until Jay came back, occasionally playing with your body in between sessions.
You were soaking wet and your skin seemed blue, considering that you actually passed out a few times from the abuse. Goosebumps stained the surface of your skin as if you they were permanent, feeling as though your life had been completely washed out of you.
Jay didn't bother hanging around at the house before guided you to his car, thanking his friends for “handling you" while he was away.
“So,” Jay began, driving you off to God knows where, “how were they?”
You picked at the skin of your nails, failing to get a hold of your nerves. Your dress was still damp from everything that happened, and your hair was a complete mess. You looked a wreck from the outside, but that hardly compared to the agony you were suffering from on the inside.
“Great,” you replied with a pleasant expression and tone, almost sounding genuine.
"You don't have to lie to me, love. You look dreadful," he admitted, resting a hand on the bumpy skin of your thigh.
"To look on the bright side, I'm sure you learned a very valuable lesson. Hmm?"
"Yes, I did," you replied, your eyes fixed on the dark city skyline ahead of you, lost in your pain.
"Lovely. Now let's get you home and cleaned up. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
To be continued.
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☆ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.
☆ taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @yngwife @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @rickysblkgf @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos
501 notes · View notes
alexsoenomel · 2 months
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Camping Shenanigans
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Summary: You like both brothers and you decide to go camping for Sam's birthday.
Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Winchester
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, kissing, fluff
Word count: 4.9k
Note: Not beta read. It has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy!
Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)
"Camping? Are you serious?" 
"Yes, Dean, it's my birthday," Sam answered. 
"It was my idea," you chimed in as Dean shot you a death stare. "Kinda," You added.
***
It wasn't actually your idea. You just asked Sam a simple question:
“What’s something you always wanted to do but never had a chance to do it?”
He said camping. 
"Why do you ask?"
"Your birthday is coming soon!" You told him and stuffed your face with some scrambled eggs you decided to have that morning.
"So?" Sam was a bit confused. He never really cared much about his birthday. 
"Let's do something fun for your birthday. Every year is the same; Dean celebrates his birthdays hammered and dodging STDs like bullets, my birthdays are depressing because I'm always broke or sad or both, and yours…it's like you don't have birthdays." 
"So,do you wanna go camping for my birthday?" 
"Yes! And we can celebrate in nature with lots of alcohol." 
"I mean sure, but Dean's gonna –"
"Oh fuck what Dean says he's coming too."
***
"Kinda?!"
"It will be fun Dean, besides spending time in nature will be good for you," Sam said.
"Actually, concerning amount of booze and chicks with daddy issues are the only two things that are good for me, not this!" He still kept protesting.
"You're going, Dean!" Sam told him. 
"Fine, but if a snake bites me, I'm shaving your head!" 
"Yeah, yeah! Pack a bag, we're going tomorrow morning!"
"TOMORROW MORNING?!" Dean’s voice went an octave higher.
"Yeah, and I'm driving!" Sam smirked. 
"Not a chance," Dean simply said before taking a sip of beer. 
You and Sam found a wonderful campsite in Greenheart National Park in Wyoming and decided to book it, long before telling Dean. Two nights under the stars in the middle of nowhere sounded wonderful, but Dean still wasn't impressed. Even after telling him, it wasn't a traditional campsite – it had toilets, outdoor showers and all-inclusive breakfast, lunch and dinner – he still wasn't impressed. Dean being Dean - he was protesting and whining, right until you actually sat in his car and he started the engine. He didn't like the idea, but it was Sam's birthday tomorrow and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his little brother. 
The drive was long and seemed endless. Between trying to get comfortable, taking a nap, listening to music and eating snacks because of boredom, you couldn’t wait to spend time in nature and watch the stars. Sam was visibly excited, asking Dean every two hours where you were, explaining how to set up a tent, telling fun statistics about bear attacks which made Dean a bit uneasy. Sam’s inner child was slowly healing and yours was just happy to tag along. Dean's on the other hand…his inner child just wanted to get back to bed.
“This is going to be fun!” You laughed. “Dean, get ready to fight bears!” 
“Shut your mouth!” 
*****
After approximately 13 hours you finally arrived, far away from civilization. Everything was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. It was almost 9pm and even though it was May, it was a bit chilly.
"You will all get your tents, feel free to set up anywhere you like, but please don't go far away from the station," The bold man was speaking, aka the owner. He was a middle-aged man, very athletic and taller than Sam. Nice obnoxious smile too. "Dinner is in an hour and if anyone has to shower, showers and toilets are behind the gazebo. We will start the bonfire at 11pm if you wanna join. I'm making some good ol' homemade chips. Hope you enjoy your stay and please if you have any questions, concerns, I'm here."
"He seems nice," You whispered.
"Yeah, and bold," Dean added, clearly trying to sound funny. He tried and failed.
“He might be bold, but next to him you’re just a scrawny little bitch,” you clapped back, hoping it would sting him. 
“Ouch!” It did. 
Sam laughed.
*****
“So, do you want to share a tent?” You asked the brothers as they shared a look of concern. 
“Well…” Sam started, but was unable to finish his thought.
“Mmm..” Dean too.
They didn’t like the idea, so naturally you decided to go with it and ask the owner to give you the biggest tent he could find. “For the three of you?” The guy asked, pointing a finger at Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. You were the last one to get your tent. Some people already found their spot and set up theirs.  
“Yes, the biggest one please. I don’t wanna be suffocated by these two.” 
The guy chuckled. “Roger that!” He then went into the storage room and started rummaging through his things. After a minute he came back holding a large black bag. “Here you go!” He said and tossed it to Sam. “That will do!” He also gave you three sleeping bags and you were off.
“Thank you so much!” You said. 
****
You found your spot far away from people next to a pine tree that was sticking out from the rest of the forest that was behind you. The hill was beautiful, grass perfectly cut, the sky covered in stars like freckles scattered all over, while the air felt colder than an hour ago.
“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Dean said, trying to see which part of the tent goes where, while you used the flashlight on your phone to guide him. 
“Let me!” Sam said and gathered all the poles in one pile. He read a thing or two about different types of tents and recognized you got the one with a porch aka ‘the fancy one’. 
“Well happy birthday Sammy!” You told him. “Congratulations on being one year closer to death!”
“Wow (Y/N), you sure know how to make a man feel like crap!” Dean scoffed. 
“What’re you talking about Dean? I praise him all the time. Both of you!”
“Yeah, praise my ass!”
“You do have a great ass!” You winked at him. Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms looking offended. 
Sam laughed at your joke. “Thank you, but it’s not midnight yet!”  ***
An hour later, Sam finally set up the tent and Dean was already on his second beer. This campsite was known for having unlimited amounts of booze and Dean was one happy camper when he found that out. Meanwhile Sam was really proud of himself for setting up his first tent. It was spacious and brand new. When you put the sleeping bags in, you realized you were going to get squished by the brothers. The tent was big, but not big enough.
You liked that idea, considering your long history of liking both of them and not being able to decide. It had been over ten years and you still couldn’t decide. They both had qualities you desired in a man and were special in their own way. Sam’s height and intelligence made you want to climb him like a tree and never get down, while Dean’s perfect smile and snarky humor made you want to make him whimper under you. They were childhood friends and lived across the street, and since your parents liked to hang out you would see them almost every weekend.
Once they moved across the country you still stayed in touch - texted and called every once in a while, but your heart was aching for them. You missed them dearly. It all fell into place once you saw Sam one random Monday morning on campus at Stanford and your shenanigans started again. Dean decided more education was too much for his brain, so he opened a small music store in San Diego and was doing surprisingly well. You started hanging out again, going to pubs, having movie nights, game nights…
You and Sam would also visit Dean and everything seemed to make sense once again. You were like three peas in a pod – same but slightly different.
Over the years you learned how to ignore your feelings and push those thoughts away, and yet sometimes you'd catch your stomach flipping every time they would bring up past relationships or flings. They both didn't want to settle down, and while you liked the idea of it, you were picky and hadn’t found someone who was worthy of you to settle down with.
"Shower and alcohol?" You asked Sam, since Dean had already showered and was now on his third beer.
"Yes please."
Showering in nature was a first for you. You thought you were going to freeze but surprisingly even though you did, it felt amazing on your skin. You enjoyed the wind making you shiver. 
“How was it, Sam?” You said, stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Sam actually took the time and got dressed in the wooden shower cabin.
“Cold.” He answered, his voice shivering. His wet hair was slick back, a blue shirt accentuating his muscles, while the gray sweatpants he wore particularly outlined his cock, making it hard to focus.
The things I’d do to that man are ungodly and borderline illegal.
SNAP OUT OF IT!
“And refreshing,” You added. 
“You should get dressed before you get sick.” 
“Okay, mother!” You rolled your eyes and went back to the tent.
Anything for you, handsome!
***
Dinner was delicious – Dutch oven mac and cheese. Everybody got one big full plate and it was better than you could imagine; very salty and cheesy.
It was nice to sit and look at the bonfire while eating your favorite childhood meal but soon you just wanted to get away from the people and loud noise. You stuck around for a few minutes, watching the fire and chatting with a few nice girls you met while waiting for dinner before your social battery completely died. You excused yourself and left. You weren’t in the mood for small talk anymore – Sam and Dean were a lot better at it than you and they were a lot more social too. You decided to watch from afar and sit on the porch swing that was looking directly at the bonfire surrounded by people having a great time. You were sipping your beer watching the fire go wild as the bold guy threw a few branches, making it stable enough to actually start making his homemade chips in the skillet. You felt like a kid again. The beer was just enough to relax you even though the taste wasn't the best. The stars decided to shine that night, while the crescent moon was too shy to show its whole face.
“Having fun over there?” You heard a familiar voice and saw a shadow of a person approaching you. It was Dean. 
“Yeah, just don’t feel like talking to people,” you told him. 
He sat down next to you and put his beer bottle next to yours. You exchanged looks in semi- complete darkness and made a toast. 
“Cheers!”
“Happy birthday to Sam!” You said, looking at Sam who was talking to a guy much shorter than him.
“I swear it was yesterday he was learning how to walk,” Dean told you. 
“You sound like my mother,” You chuckled.
Your mind was getting tired and since the swing was made out of wood, you were struggling to get comfortable. Your head decided to rest on his shoulder as you took a sip of your beer, eyes still on Sam. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you lifted your legs on the swing. His arm was firm and he smelled too good for your own good – something between leather and pines surrounding you. He seemed to be tense though, or at least that was what you thought.
“Dean, I don’t bite, unless you want me to! Relax!”
You couldn’t see but he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m relaxed!” 
“Well damn, you have been working out then!” You decided to compliment him. As much as you loved roasting him, making him feel good was also important to you. 
“Not so bad for a scrawny little bitch, huh?” 
“Shut up!”
***
The night was growing cold and you were getting tired. You didn't know the time, since your phone was back in the tent, but one thing you knew – it was time to go to sleep. The Winchesters were having a great time lingering in the crowd so you decided to leave them to have their fun and go to sleep. 
"Guys, I'm gonna go hit the sack!" You shouted from afar, since you saw, they were talking to someone – a man you didn't know and didn't want to know.
"Are you sure, (Y/N)?" Sam asked.
"Yeah I'm tired! Good night, guys!" 
"Good night!" They said in sync.
You snuggled up in your sleeping bag, shivering from the cold and realized; since you were sleeping on the ground you won't be able to get one hundred percent comfortable so the only logical thing was to take melatonin for sleep. That magic pill could make any surface feel like clouds and on top of that made you actually have nice dreams, since you didn't dream as much.
You took one pill and chugged a good amount of water. You were out in about 45 minutes.
***
Sam's lips were on your neck, kissing, biting, making you shiver; while Dean's lips went lower and lower. You didn't know which name to moan first, hell, you didn't know where you were, but it was blissful and a whole lot of sinful.
Dean's lips reached your panties and before he moved them to the side, he placed a kiss making you squirm. Sam's large hands were playing with your breasts while he couldn't separate his lips from your neck.
As soon as Dean's tongue touched your throbbing clit, you arched your back in pleasure. He was slow, and with the combination of Sam's rough kisses, your body was overwhelmed and feeling nothing but intense pleasure.
"Dean!" You whispered. “Dean!”
"(Y/N)?" Dean mumbled, his eyes half open, even though he couldn't see shit. 
"Sam! Fuck!" This time, a whisper, sounding more like a light moan of his brother's name.
"You kiddin'?" He was now fully awake and fully aware you were in fact not trying to wake him up.
"So good!" 
"I'll be damned!" He whispered, not really sure what to do. Sam wasn't saying a word so he figured he was in a coma since he had too many beers a few hours ago. You were squished between them but somehow ended up being closer to Dean so he decided to snap you back to reality.
"(Y/N)!" He whispered, this time a little bit louder. "Wake the hell up!" He said, trying to shake you to wake you up.
"Huh, what?" You finally mumbled as he violently pulled you back to reality. It took you a couple of seconds to realize it was, all in fact, just a dream.
"You snore like a buzzsaw!" He lied.
"Oh sorry!" 
And without saying anything else, you both went to sleep. It took Dean a couple of minutes though, since he couldn't stop thinking about what he heard.
Dirty girl. 
Was the last thing he thought before passing out.
****
The next morning you woke up well rested but in pain. Your body felt stiff until you stretched and actually got out of the tent. It was cold during the night, the air was fresh, but with the first rays of the sun came the heat, and you weren’t awoken by the sound of your alarm, it was the heat and stuffy air. When you looked at your phone, it was almost eight in the morning and time for breakfast. You were alone in the tent, Sam and Dean were already up. You got your toothbrush and toothpaste and went to do your business. You couldn't stop thinking about the damn dream. It was too vivid for your own good. The way Dean kissed you with his perfect full lips, Sam’s hands on your hot skin, their moans, groans and big girthy co-
“Good morning, princess,” you heard Dean say as you waited in line to get your breakfast sandwich, still sleepy. He wasn’t a morning person whatsoever so hearing him sound this jolly was strange. 
“Morning,” you didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned around and went to find a place to sit. People were already chatting, having their morning coffees and enjoying the fresh air, while you struggled to exist. It was too early to think, too early to speak and too early to be a human. 
Dean followed you after he poured himself another cup of freshly made black coffee. 
You lazily opened your sandwich from the wrapper and took a first bite; ham, cheese, ketchup, lettuce…usual stuff. It was a little dry for your taste buds, but it wasn’t bad. 
“How did you sleep?” Dean asked, sitting next to you. 
“Like a baby,” You mumbled, chewing. You could feel his eyes on you, as you turned to look at him, he was indeed staring back at you with a little smirk on his face. “What?” 
“Oh I bet you slept real good,” he teased. His deep and raspy voice was too close to your left ear, sending shivers down your spine, all over your body. You ignored it.
“What are you implying, Winchester?” You asked, genuinely confused, not really thinking about…oh. OH! You remembered. The dream. Maybe he heard you mumbling in your sleep. Do I sleep talk? You still played dumb.
“Dream a little dream of me and Sammy, eh?” His smirk was still there, you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. 
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied. “Where’s Sam?” 
“He went Dora the explorer around the park.” 
Sam was both night and day. He enjoyed both darkness and light. The darkness was for reading and the light was for hiking and jogging.
After you finished breakfast, you poured yourself a cup of coffee that was now lukewarm. It still tasted like coffee when it touched your lips and still gave you that kick you needed. 
Dean was still keeping you company for some reason, he was close, too close and kind of getting on your nerves. You had a feeling he wanted to ask you something but swallowed all the words in the English language. You assumed what he was curious about, you just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. We are our egos after all, and in time we learn how to tame that part of ourselves and not let it control us. You weren’t going to blush and get flustered in front of Dean Winchester.
“What’s the plan for today?” You asked. 
“Did you dream about sleeping with me and Sam?” Dean evidently didn’t register your question. And he finally found the words. You choked on your coffee not expecting to be hit with a question. You didn’t expect that kind of question.
“You did!” He said as his face lit up in a second. 
“No, I didn’t.” 
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” 
He was a child. A man-child. He wasn’t going to let it go, not until you confessed. Sighing in frustration, you calmly put down your coffee-stained mug and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful, greener than the forest around you.
“I did,” you confessed. 
“Yeah, I know I heard you,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. He was beautiful but you still wanted to punch him in the face. 
“Can I drink my coffee in peace now, please?” 
“Yes, you may, sinner.”
The embarrassment you felt disappeared as soon as you saw Sam coming back from his little, to quote Dean, ‘Dora the Explorer’ adventure, all sweaty and ready for a shower. You weren’t embarrassed, you were horny. 
“Morning!” 
“Morning Sam!” You spoke. 
“Sleep well?” 
“Oh yeah, you bet she did!” Dean told him. You rolled your eyes.
Sam gave him a confused look not getting the joke. He doesn’t know.
“Awful, your brother kept making happy noises all night,” you lied. Figured you would get back at him for being a dick. Dean’s mouth slightly opened. 
“Dude, gross!” Sam’s reaction was more than welcome considering Dean hadn’t stopped annoying you ever since you had a bite of that dry sandwich. Once he left to shower, you turned to his older brother. 
“Don’t fuck with me!”
***
The day was cloudy and cold. Some people were playing board games and listening to music, some were reading their favorite books, while others went to explore the national park. You immersed yourself in the book you were currently reading, while Sam and Dean played Monopoly under the kitchen gazebo that wasn’t just a kitchen, it had a space for everything; space where you could sit and relax, a table, and two couches placed right across each other. A multipurpose gazebo: kitchen, dining room and a living room. Well, Sam was teaching Dean how to play and Dean was losing and cursing every few minutes.
“You were never good with money, Dean!” You chuckled, eyes still on the page you were reading.
“And you’re loud!” He sassed. You lifted your head to look at him and he just gave you a wink. You knew damn well why.
You elected to ignore it. 
Soon enough, it was lunch time: delicious goulash and for dessert, a slice of apple pie. 
“Warrior food!” Dean said, stuffing his mouth. 
He wasn’t wrong. The food was fresh and absolutely delicious. 
“Do you guys want to play volleyball after we eat?” Sam asked. 
“You’re joking?” Dean lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t do sports and I especially don’t do sports after lunch.”
“Grandpa!” You said and told Sam to count you in. 
 A few minutes later, the bald, good-looking dude came to say there was going to be another party, from 7pm to when everybody goes to sleep. He also said there was going to be lots and lots of alcohol considering it was a goodbye party. Dean was excited, you were too busy reading your book and Sam finally bankrupted his older brother. 
You ended up playing volleyball with Sam for almost two hours. He asked the bald guy if they had any volleyballs after lunch and the guy was more than happy to be of service. There was a small chunk of land which they turned into a volleyball court, far away from people who were hanging out around the gazebo and far away from Dean who decided to take a nap after eating too many slices of pie.
“Are you enjoying your birthday so far, Sammy?” You asked as you served him the ball which, he slammed a little too hard and it flew across your head. 
“Oops!” He said with an awkward smile. “Best one so far!” 
“Told you!” You raised your voice going a few steps away from the court to get the ball.
As you were playing and growing tired, you couldn't help but notice how tight his black t-shirt was, perfectly hugging his body as he started to sweat. His hair still a little damp, slick back and tucked behind his ears, his lower lip between his teeth trying to concentrate on the ball in the sky – the man was simply gorgeous. It was hard to concentrate on the damn game when your mind wandered.
How does his lips taste? Does he have a big dick? Probably. The man is huge. FOCUS! 
So many questions and no wins.
After losing 3:0, you decided to take a shower and get ready for the party. You were in the mood to drink and not get nervous around both brothers.
It was getting cold, so after a quick cold shower, you decided to wear your favorite pair of gray sweats and a very old Led Zeppelin hoodie your dad gave you a long time ago.
People already started drinking by the time you finished getting ready. 
"Hey, nice hoodie you got there!" Dean commented as soon as he saw you. One of the things you absolutely adored about Dean was his awesome music taste. You were both old schools. 
"You've seen me in this at least a hundred times Dean!" You chuckled. 
"And every time I'm going to tell you how awesome it is," he said proudly. "Where's Sam?" 
"Showering." 
"Again?" 
"Yeah, you know Dean, after physical activity you get all sweaty and gross," you told him and took a paper cup filled with red wine from the table under the gazebo. Suddenly, the familiar melody of Toxic by Britney Spears blasted through the speakers.
"It was sweaty and gross alright," Dean joked and like always, you rolled your eyes, and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't too sweet and definitely was cheap considering how watered down it was.
***
After three cups, you grabbed your fourth one as your vision started to blur. Your thoughts were scrambled, between being nervous because of Dean's annoying teasing, and not giving a flying fuck about anything and just wanting to let loose, but there was a sense of tranquility in them. You loved the idea of him knowing your dirty thoughts, and you loved even more watching Sam being simultaneously confused and stunning while listening to you two bicker. The alcohol wasn't helping you. The undying need to be in a delicious Winchester sandwich only grew stronger with each sip…
You saw Sam coming from the toilet after the shower and something in you snapped. You swallowed nervously before chugging the rest of the wine and decided to toss all the fucks you had out the window. 
“Hey, handsome!” You said, seeing his face change from content to a little nervous. You'd never called him that. 
“Hey!” Was all he could muster.
“In the mood for a drink?” 
“Sure,” he said. “But only one, and I'm out. I’m tired.” 
“Okie dokie.”
Sam's drink of choice was beer. Dean was somewhere in the crowd, nowhere in your sight. Perfect.
“Cheers!” He said. No matter how big or small his smile was, his dimples would always show on his cheeks and you found it adorable. He was adorable and his lips were much more kissable after almost four cups of wine. 
“Cheers,” you smiled back. “To you Sammy!” 
“I didn't tell you but you're a solid volleyball player.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “A solid player? Really? You won 3:0.” 
“Well, yeah because you're short, and for some reason your focus was nonexistent but your serve was excellent.” 
“I'm short?” You weren't offended by any means, he was in fact much taller than you, but still surprised he said it so bluntly. 
“Short and sweet?” He corrected himself with an awkward smile before taking another sip of his beer. 
“Sweeter than sugar, sugar,” you didn't know where that came from. It sounded kind of lame, you thought, so you quickly changed the subject. “And my focus was nonexistent because of your sorry ass.” You said before playfully tapping him on his shoulder.
“Me?” 
Something about the innocence of that man made you absolutely feral. You had a feeling he wasn't so innocent behind closed doors. The idea of his lips on yours didn't want to leave your mind as your eyes couldn't stop staring at him with pure, drunken adoration. 
“(Y/N)?” 
You wanted to speak but something told you to not use a single word of the English language. Instead, you pulled him by his black hoodie and crashed your lips on his. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, his body was stiff for a few seconds before letting go and deepening the kiss, making you balance yourself on your tiptoes. You felt him cup your left cheek with his free hand as you bit his lower lip, earning a moan from him. His nose crashed against yours, tasting alcohol mainly from your lips, Sam felt his cock getting hard. It hit him that he was wearing gray sweatpants so naturally that was a sign to pull away. People around you were too busy singing ABBA songs to give a fuck. 
“Well…” Sam said, not knowing where his thoughts were as he instinctively looked down and saw the outline of his cock. “Crap.” 
Your gaze followed and you were happy it did. He was big, bigger than you'd imagined.
"Sammy, is that a gun or you're just happy to see me?” You winked. That was horrible. 
“Shut up,” he sassed back, giving you a bitch face he would always give to Dean.
He covered his groin with his hands, looking around awkwardly to see if anyone was looking. Of course they weren't. Everybody was either drunk or high or both. 
Suddenly Sam's gaze was fixed behind you as he visibly clenched his jaw. You turned around and of course it was Dean.
“Oh there you are!” You said with enthusiasm and kissed him, pulling him closer by his jacket. 
Sam was stunned, while you could feel Dean smiling before kissing you back and letting you put your tongue in his mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and enjoyed the softness of his puffy lips on yours. He was a lot gentler than Sam – more innocence but still the same amount of passion. 
When you finally broke away, your drunk self just mumbled, “You two are irresistible.” 
Sam was still visibly confused while Dean couldn't stop smiling. 
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