#making skittles candy
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rmspeltzfarm · 2 years ago
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Making Skittles more fun to eat
Making Skittles even more fun to Eat
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thedorfmirrin · 2 months ago
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It's King Candy!!! /)~~🍬🍭🍬🍬🍫
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weepingseraphstranger · 3 months ago
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This is going to be a stupid and obvious question but I'm very stupid so it is what it is. But if you take something the won't set because of humidity (like candy and fudge) and put it in a freeze dryer, then would it set? Or at least get all crunchy? And if you put fudge in there for a specific time, would it set?
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teaboot · 7 months ago
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Almighty Tumblr user Teaboot, what is your wisdom?
uh
You don't have to eat the gross jellybeans, you can just eat the ones you like, they have no nutritional value so there's nothing wrong with tossing em, candy is for fun not for food
Spiders and other household bugs are repulsed by cedar and lavender- you can get cedar balls online like how people used to sell mothballs and use em to keep spiders out of your closet
When you unplug an appliance from a wall there may still be an electrical charge in it for a sec so don't touch the metal end of the plug or you might get zapped a bit
Tiger's eye gems are a type of asbestos so if you crack or chip your tiger's eye you should probably not wear it anymore idk I'm not a rock scientist
If you wanna stay warmer when camping you should leave your sleeping bag rolled up until the moment you go to bed cause the fabric can absorb humidity in the air and make it damp and colder. Also fresh socks before you go to bed, even if your day ones still seem dry
Rayon, Viscose, and Lyocell are all made of plant fibers
Capsaicin is fat soluble, so if you eat something too spicy then drinking milk or cream will wash it away better than water. Swishing with vinegar should also work too if you're desperate
Fish are WAY more maintenance than you think they are. Goldfish can live well over a decade under proper care. Fish are not "easy" pets for the love of God. And they're smarter than you think they are
People having seizures are not going to swallow their tongue. At worst they may bite it. Hitting their head on something is a far bigger risk. Don't put shit in their mouth.
Children are more sensitive to bitter tastes as an evolutionary safety measure against accidental poisoning. If theycdont like eating something because it's bitter, remember that the taste is stronger to them.
Most symptoms of hauntings are also symptoms of gas leaks and black mold. Whether or not you believe in ghosts you should probably check you're not being poisoned before you drop money on a spirit medium
Purple skittles are grape flavour in some places like North America and blackcurrant in places like the UK. I personally prefer blackcurrant
Saguaro cacti can weigh literal tons and will crush you to death if they fall on you
Palm trees are technically grass
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apatheticsunday · 3 days ago
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Skittles-Flavored Fear
AKA "The Batfam rescue several Gotham-U students from Scarecrow's latest hostage situation. However, Dr. Jonathan Crane becomes obsessed when one student has a strange reaction to the Fear Toxin - extreme exhilaration and giddiness." Based on this prompt!!
Danny knows Ghosts feed on intense emotion to survive; he's never had to, never wanted to because it feels... parasitic. He never thought he'd be drugged with it. Sitting among his fellow students, tied up as the Straw Man or whatever monologues about his evil plans, Danny thought the worst thing that could happen would be hallucinating a dissection table. Maybe the GIW or his parents with gleaming googles and scalpels at the ready.
He doesn't even realize they're already being gassed until Danny takes a breath and tastes... skittles? Like, taffy, frosted cream, and melty-sweet syrup. The more he breathes it in, the more he feels strangely floaty. His head feels both heavy and light, stuffed with cotton, and he can barely even hear. (If he could hear, he'd probably would be horrified by his classmates screaming, writhing in terror all around him like a swarm of buzzing locusts.)
And then somebody - The Straw Man - is looming in front of him, grabbing Danny by the face, and curiously tilting his head. After a moment of contemplation, Straw Man rummages around in his satchel before Danny gets freaking hosed in the face with a concentrated dose of Fear Toxin. And then everything gets better worse. Danny feels euphoric. He's giggling, smiling, head so clouded from the high that he doesn't even notice even Dr. Crane drags him through the crowded lecture hall. Doesn't notice when two goons grab him by the arms and start to haul him toward the exit.
What he does notice is the Straw Man's body slamming into the wall. Several figures blur in shades of black, blue, green, and red as Danny squints to try and focus on at least one of them. Then, somebody - blue and black - is at his side. Danny kind of... slides down the hero's side, legs too wobbly to hold himself up, until the hero has to prop Danny into a half-laying-half-sitting position. Danny's still giggling, slurring something and his hand somehow finds the hero's face, patting it in thanks for the rescue.
It's only when the Big Bat comes over, fits an odd-shaped mask over Danny's face, that he stops smelling candy. Instead, he smells something putrid, almost like formaldehyde, sweat, and... unmentionable body fluids. Danny's head is throbbing like brain freeze and a pressure headache, nausea so intense he can taste it in the back of his throat and cramps in his stomach. One moment he's mumbling 'm gon' throw up and the next he's ripping the mask off his face. Turns to the side and... barfs on Batman. (If he were more coherent, he'd probably be mortified. Maybe even die again of embarrassment. Worse when Nightwing cackles uncontrollably from beside him. Ancients, he'd petted Nightwing!! On the freakin' face!!)
That's the last thing that Danny remembers. He wakes up in the hospital several hours later, several texts from Jazz, Sam, and Tucker saying they're taking the next flight to Gotham. Danny flops back into the hospital bed and groans. Groans louder when he remembers what happened in the lecture hall. At least there's probably a very small amount of people who can say they barfed on the Dark Knight of Gotham and got away with it, right?
(Cue Scarecrow constantly trying to kidnap Danny and the Batfam being put on Danny-watch to make sure he's safe. Maybe also trying to figure out why Danny reacts differently to Fear Toxin, but assume he's an undocumented meta with a unique biology. Danny absolutely thinks he's being stalked by Batman as revenge.)
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trusweethrt · 7 months ago
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LATE NIGHT DRIVES
PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER
summary: Rafe cherished these drives with you. Where you both would blare your wildly different music, talk about anything that came to mind, and stop at random convenience stores for snacks. It was the only time where he felt genuinely relaxed and content.
a/n: okayy new setup? 🫣 I dunno, I'm trying it out but I likee. very professional, very cutesy. Anyway, this is my first well thought out writing so please do leave constructive criticism if you think I could do something different next time...
word count: 0.6k
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The route to your house was second nature by now. He's been there so much that he almost knows it better than his own home. which he doesn't mind at all, cause your house was basically his second home.
As you lie in your bed, your phone buzzes with an "I'm outside" text from Rafe. So per routine, you get up, throwing on the first hoodie in reach and heading out of the door.
He blows out out a breath, letting out a low "Its about fucking time" as you get in his truck.
"yeah yeah, it wasn't that long. you're just impatient"
he pulls out of your driveway, scoffing slightly "I must have plenty of patience, I deal with you, don't I? and put your seat belt on."
Once your seat belt is fastened, he begins driving on the road, having no destination in mind like usual. For a while, it's just silence between you two. Which isn't uncommon for both of you, it's familiar and more comforting than he'd like to admit.
"Lets stop at a gas station for snacks" you request, looking out the window
He nods, a murmured "sure" leaving his lips as he drives in the direction of the nearest gas station.
Entering the gas station, you immediately make your way toward the section with candy, picking out packages of a variety of candies while he heads towards the chips.
Once you both have gathered a good amount of snacks for each of you, which you both are gonna end up sharing anyway, you set them down on the counter as the cashier to rings up all of the items that he ends up paying for like usual since he'll throw a fit if he doesn't.
When you both make it into the car, he drives to the usual spot you both spend nights at. An empty parking lot. "Oh my gosh, turn it up!" you motion to the radio, smiling widely.
He groans as he turns up the radio "What the hell is this? Taylor Swift?"
"Sabrina Carpenter" you correct "And it's good, just listen."
"Yeah, I'd rather not" he replies as he takes a few gummy bears from the bag in your lap. He always claims to hate your music taste but you always find him humming a beat to one of the songs you pick out during a drive.
He leans back into his seat, chewing slowly as he listens to the lyrics. "You listen to some dirty music" he chuckles
"Hey, she's not that bad. You should see her on tour though, you'll have a stroke."
he raises his eyebrow, an amused expression on his face "really, huh? what, are you gonna go?"
you hum, shaking your head "No. I want to, though. But her tickets are kinda pricey. Maybe if I have extra money to spend soon."
"I'll take you."
The Skittles you were eating nearly get stuck in your throat as you look at him in bewilderment "What?! No! Rafe, that's too much money."
he shrugs "It's fine. I wanna do it. Just let me? Please?" of course he wouldn't bat an eye at spending that much money, he was loaded.
you hesitate for a moment, but seeing the insistence in his eyes, you eventually nod slightly "Fine. You can take me. But I'm paying you back eventually, alright?"
"Mm okay, sure. Deal." he agrees, even though he knows when it comes time for you to pay him back, he'll either give the money right back to you or refuse it.
"Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate it." you smile, genuinely touched by his willingness to spend that much money on you. It was rare that he went out of his way to please someone.
"Mhm, of course" he smiles back before throwing a gummy bear your way "consider it a late birthday gift."
"my birthday was like nine months ago, but okay."
"Mm yeah, just go with it" he chuckles, reaching over and talking your hand.
That was definitely new...
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blackleatherjacketz · 2 months ago
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Clearance
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Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Female Reader
Robby checks in on you after your hysterectomy and has his own way of clearing you to go back to work.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Power Imbalance, Medical Kink, Heavy Eye Contact With Robby, Hugging, Alcohol, Impromptu Pelvic Exams, Vaginal Fingering, Female Orgasm, Robby Talking You Through It, Kissing, Finger Sucking, Hysterectomy Details
Tags: @bullet-prooflove @likedovesinthewnd @skittles-archive
Everyone from work had taken turns coming over to check in on you after your surgery, all of them having their own versions of what caring for you looked like to them. For Dana it meant bringing you a home cooked meal and a bottle of wine topped off with the latest gossip. For Mel, it meant bringing you a plushie and watching Netflix while the two of you snacked on candy and popcorn. For Collins, it meant herbal tea and an electric heating pad to warm the spot where your uterus used to be.
For Robby, it meant bringing over a six pack of beer, the same brand you’d shared with him after your last long day of work together. The same brand he’d sipped while giving you that look from across the park benches, finally asking you if a boyfriend or girlfriend would mind if he walked you home this late at night. The same brand that you could smell on his breath and practically taste in the air as he rested his forehead against yours when the two of you finally reached your doorstep, reveling in each other’s presence.
You could have sworn he was going to kiss you that night with how close your lips were, how drawn your body was to his, how connected your souls felt. But he eventually cut the tension in half by turning his cheek, wrapping those big arms of his around you instead, pulling you all the way into his chest. It was one of those life-altering, nervous system regulating hugs that consumed every waking thought of yours after the fact; something you feared you might never get over no matter how hard you tried. He’d held onto you as if he was afraid that you’d disappear the very second he let go, as if your upcoming medical leave was going to be the very last time he’d ever see you again.
But it wasn’t.
“So, how’s my favorite resident holding up?” His energy is kinetic, building up between you two like a rubber band pulled taut since he last saw you, as if no time had passed between that embrace and now. That maddening look of longing admiration hasn’t dimmed the light in his eyes one bit as he sits down next to you on the couch. His crisp, clean scent surrounds you just like it had done before, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin as he hands you a beer. Your fingers brush over his knuckles for a split second before he pulls away and cracks one open for himself, briefly glancing at your face with a smirk.
“Going a little stir crazy, but I’ll survive.” You admit as you clink your can against his, the isolation of your medical leave weighing on you more than you care to admit. “Ready to go back to work, though.”
“It hasn’t even been eight weeks yet.” He raises a scolding eyebrow before taking a sip of his beer. “And as badly as I want to see your face every time I walk into that ER, you still need to take the recommended time off. It’s there for a reason.”
“Unless… you clear me?” You counter, a hopeful tone lacing your words as you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. You want to make it abundantly clear that you haven't forgotten how the two of you left things, either.
“Fuck, you’re impossible.” He shakes his head again and laughs under his breath, exasperated but not seeming very surprised by your request. “Are you still bleeding?”
“No, thank God.” You take a sip of the stale, bland beer and make a face.
Wait a minute, is he actually considering your request?
“And how about your incisions?” He sets his beer down on the coffee table and turns toward you, his voice low but still professional. “Are they healed all the way? Steri strips fell off on their own?”
“All except for one, yeah.” You nod and tilt your head to look at him a little closer, attempting to gauge if he’s actually willing to entertain this crazy idea of yours or not. “It’s really stubborn though, still has some dried blood on it.”
He stares at you with a dangerous sense of warmth, that rubber band between you two pulling even tighter until his lips curl into a smirk as if he knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to. You can feel it already, that shift in the air, that increase in your heart rate as he leans in close enough to count the lashes on your eyes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’s going to kiss you, but all he does is laugh under his breath until he finally gives in to your whims at the very last minute.
“Alright, I’ll clear you,” he mutters, his eyes completely black. “But only after I examine you.”
“Hmm?” You don’t pull away, don’t break the heavy eye contact as your body slowly heats up from his gaze. You almost miss what he said entirely as you nearly lost yourself in the deep hypnotic pools of his eyes.
Is he serious?
“Lay down on your back, let me look at those incisions, and I’ll consider clearing you for light duty.” He clarifies, taking the beer from your hand and setting it down on the table next to his before getting onto his knees, kneeling down in front of the couch.
“Oh, right, yeah. Thank you.” Holy shit! He’s really going to do this, isn’t he? He’s really going to touch you again with those hands, really going to examine you to see if you’re ready to go back to work and be a real person again. You swallow hard and follow his orders, laying down flat on your back as you try to control the subtle heaving of your chest.
“Did they keep your ovaries?” He asks, that voice of his just barely above a whisper as he reaches out to you, hesitating for a moment before lifting your shirt up just above your navel. “Or was it a total hysterectomy?”
“No, I still have them,” you respond, inhaling sharply as his calloused fingertips finally touch you, setting that spark inside alight as they brush over the sensitive skin of your abdomen.
“That’s good.” He smiles softly, that glint in his eyes never faltering as he palpates for any rigidity or tenderness. “Your abdomen’s nice and soft,” he rubs his hand more affectionately over your ribs and belly than he would a regular patient, the warmth of it spreading into your skin as he deepens his touch just enough to try to get you to relax.
God, that felt good…
“Thanks,” you manage to say before swallowing hard, mentally coaching yourself to breathe normally. “I guess.”
“Each of your incisions look good except for that one down here that we already knew about, but the strips should eventually fall off on their own.” He taps the area just below it, gently placing his other hand on your hip.
“Yeah, that’s what my surgeon said.” You try your best to keep your cool and relax the muscles that twitch beneath his hand as his opposite thumb traces small circles onto your hip.
“Any pain when I do this?” He presses his palm deep into the center of your pelvis this time, nearly making your back arch with the intensity of the pressure. But it doesn’t necessarily hurt, not really.
“No.” You shake your head.
“Any hormonal changes? Sleep disturbances? Decrease in your energy level or sex drive?” His eyes lock onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen as he asks that last question, almost pleading with you to give him a reason to proceed even further. His fingers continue their intimate palpation of your body, barely grazing the hem of your sweatpants as his hand travels down a little lower, stoking that heat inside your core. “I know they kept your ovaries, but the surgery can still be a shock to your system for a while.”
“No.” Your heart skips a beat and he continues to handle you, practically molding you like putty in his hands. “No hormonal changes.”
“You sure?” He pauses, a tiny smirk curling his lips as he notices the quick rise and fall of your chest, the pulse thrumming in your veins. “I think I should check everything, just to be safe.” He glances down at his hands then back at you as if asking for permission, his fingers gently tugging on the elastic band of your pants.
“I think you should, too,” you whisper, instinctively lifting your hips with a simple nod of encouragement as you watch him carefully pull your pants and underwear down past your knees.
Holy shit this is happening, this is really happening!
“Fuck,” he whispers, licking his lips as he gratefully takes you in. You can hear his breath falter, see his eyelids flutter shut for just a moment before he touches you again, this time on your inner thigh. That rubber band between you two has now been stretched to capacity, snapping back into place as he traces his fingers up your thigh to the very center of your burning heat.
You had dreamt about this for so long, fantasized about him from the very first day that you met him, and now he’s here in your living room, touching you where it matters most.
“Tissue’s healthy, pink and moist. Blood flow looks good.” He speaks to you as if he’s still performing a routine exam in the hospital, as if he isn’t touching you the way that you’ve wanted him to for years. He clears his throat as he traces two fingers up and down your swollen length, slowly spreading your lips apart to get a better view of you. “No perfusion issues that I can see. Can you feel me alright when I touch you here?”
“Mmm hmm, I can feel you just fine.” His fingers send a thousand tiny messages to the neurons embedded just beneath your skin, triggering them to fire on all cylinders until your nipples harden and that moisture begins to pool between your folds.
“Looks like you’ve got plenty of estrogen keeping you lubricated, so that’s not a problem.” He hums to himself, a sound so deep that it practically rumbles in his chest and shifts into a growl as he dips his fingers into your entrance to collect the evidence. His lips part even further as he drags his sopping wet digits up your length and swirls them around your swollen bud, taking your breath away along with it. “Do you always get this wet around me, or is this new?”
“Always,” you confess, all pretense lost as he repeats the motion again and again, grinning with sheer satisfaction as he watches your face contort with each exponential wave of absolute bliss.
He was way too good at this.
“Always, huh?” He laughs, starting to focus more on your clit, rubbing it up and down instead of in circles, intentionally applying more pressure on the upswing to drive you extra crazy. “You ever soak through your scrubs after a long shift with me?”
“Just once,” you huff, his pressure on that magic spot forcing you to roll your hips into him, establishing a euphoric rhythm that sets every cell of your skin on fire.
“Just once? That’s it? Are you sure?” His smile wrinkles the freckled skin around his eyes as he increases his pace on your clit, his lips parting as he leans down to whisper into your ear. “I kinda find that hard to believe with how fucking wet you are right now.”
“Okay, maybe twice… mmmm, Robby!” You moan as he slides two fingers inside your slick walls, his thumb not missing a beat as it presses up and down on your clit, bringing you even closer to the edge. You can hear the truth of how wet you are, smell it in the air and feel it dripping down your thigh as he pulls his fingers out and pushes back in, pulsing a white hot heat into your viscera. You can’t help but arch your back again as it licks its way up your spine, his thick fingers continuing to stretch you out inch by inch.
“They took your cervix, too, huh?” He pushes his fingers in even deeper, all the way down to the knuckles until the pleasure becomes too much for you to handle, robbing you of his visage as your eyes roll back into your head. “Vaginal cuff with sutures?” He asks, his lips hovering over yours as he describes what he’s feeling, pretending not to notice you coming completely undone beneath him. “You seem to have healed quickly.”
“Mmm hmm, Robby!” You nod as your smooth muscle adjusts around him, the sound of his thrusts growing louder in your ears as that internal wildfire consumes each and every layer of organic tissue until the steam seems to rise up and out through your pores. It rips through your spine, violently sizzling its way through every neural pathway as the blazing inferno contracts every muscle in your body.
“That’s it,” Robby coos, his smile widening as he feels the product of your orgasm spilling down his palm and wrist, soaking the cushion beneath you. “That’s it, pretty girl, let yourself feel it. Let that dopamine and oxytocin wash all over you. Fuck, you look so good coming all over my fingers.”
You tilt your head just enough to catch his lips between yours as that final flash of ecstasy burns through you, bucking your hips and curling your toes. You groan as he hums against your lips, fingers relentlessly continuing their good work as your tongue tastes the desire on his skin. You reach up to cup his face, his beard soft against your palm as you deftly brush your thumb against his cheek. He kisses you back so deeply, tastes your lips with such an intimate fervor that you barely feel him slow his pace on your overstimulated organ.
“Holy shit, Robby, that was amazing,” you whisper as he pulls his fingers out of you, dragging them over your clit one more time just to watch you squirm. “You’re really good at that.”
He brings his fingers up to his lips and quickly sucks your essence off of them, as if he can’t wait to see what you taste like. “Mmm, your pH is well balanced. I don’t see why you can’t come back to work on light duty.” He glances down at you with a clear sense of pride, that smile never leaving his lips as his eyes roam over your freshly ruined body. “But let me make you dinner first.”
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lizardho · 3 months ago
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The Halloween Story
As with most of my life stories, I have to clarify beforehand: Yes, this is real, and it is real because (and ONLY because) I am stupid. This is not something that happens to normal people because they wouldn't ever get close enough to a situation like this for it to happen. That being said, without estrogen my brain's "keep this idiot alive" switch was not turned on and I was, I think, biologically incapable of making good decisions.
Another thing to know is that I did not have a lot of friends as a kid because I'm terminally awkward; additionally, most of the friends I did have were maybe better described as "people who tolerated me but who I would take a bullet for." This is important for later.
Anyways, I was like 9 or 10 when this happened, and my littlest brother was like...5 or 6? This was his first Halloween where he was allowed to Trick-or-Treat past the end of our block, and he HAD to be accompanied by me or another older kid so he had begged me for DAYS to take him. And while I held the title of oldest brother, I feel like I put my whole pussy into being a good oldest brother, so I of course took the family's babiest of babies for his first ever trick-or-treat adventure!
I went dressed as Dartanian because I've been gay for a while, and he went dressed as a skeleton because he's adorable. We went trick-or-treating only in areas I knew, so mostly within the boundaries of our l'il Mormon ward, and we had fun. About a half-mile away from home, he started saying he was getting tired, so I told him we were gonna turn back and watch "Scary" movies, which was actually just two old VHS Scooby Doo episodes my mom let us watch because she only let us watch episodes where the monsters were fake because if they were real we'd get nightmares. So we start walking back. It's not too far and we know the way so it's going great. Littlest bro's first trick-or-treat adventure went swimmingly, we've got pillow cases full of candy, and we're about to watch scooby doo and eat skittles until we pass out. Life, for us, literally could not have been better.
BUT
As I walk around the corner of my old street, the far end of it, by a bush, I hear my best friend whisper-shout at me from a bush:
"Lizard, Lizard, stop, hide, quick!"
In most cases, my thoughts can be summarized by a humble: "Bwuh?" and in this case I'm pretty sure I said something like that out loud. I look into the bush, and I see it is JAM-FUCKING-PACKED with kids my age. Like 6 of them hiding behind this tall oleander bush shaking like they just saw a ghost. I wave to them, because I don't know what's going on, and tell them that Littlest Brother is tired so I'm going home. That's when one of them angrily grabbed me and littlest brother and tugged us into the oleander with them.
I think they thought we were hidden, but this was one shrub currently occupied by like 7 kids and despite how small we all were that was still more shrub-per-kid than the shrub could hide so me and littlest brother didn't actually fit. And I was squirming trying to get away because it was poky and scratchy and smelled bad and also I didn't know why I was being pulled into a shrub to begin with.
The ruckus of my squirming was freaking my friends out, who were all telling me to shut up and hide, and I was telling them I wasn't playing hide-n-seek and Littlest Brother was REALLY getting tuckered out so PLEASE let go so I can go home, when around the corner came three Big Kids on bikes.
These kids seemed HUGE and SCARY to me at the time, although realistically they were like in 8th grade and also dork-ass losers. They were on bikes with handlebar breaks, though, and they were wearing costumes ironically under hoodies, so they seemed scary at the time. They see me thrashing in a bush and correctly deduced that the kids they had been hunting down were in the bush too. This is when I learned that my friends were all scared because they'd been being hunted for sport by older boys. Like, actually, for real, we were being bullied on Halloween by kids who called us "dweebs" and shit, I cannot explain how that was actually happening in the early 2000s, that was a worn-out trope in the 80s, but it for real, actually, swearsy-realsies, happened to me.
They're bigger than us and have at least started puberty so they're a lot stronger than us. They fished us all out of the bush pretty easily and made us all line up. This was all happening on a well-lit suburban street in a Mostly Mormon neighborhood so again, I don't know how it all got this far, but it did.
Once we were lined up, they start quipping about our costumes and harassing us a little bit. Again, this is like STRAIGHT out of a shitty campy overdone 80s sitcom so I get that this sounds fake, but we were literally getting pushed around and called dweebs and nerds by some fuckass 8th graders who were all smoking a cigarette one of them stole from their mom. Finally they were getting bored so they told us that their terms to releasing us were that we give them our candy.
My friends, who are smart and wanted to be alive, immediately started grabbing fistfuls of candy from their buckets or bags to hand them. But I am stupid, and was trying to be a good older brother, and didn't understand the concept of mortality because HRT had not yet flipped that switch in my brain, and I saw littlest brother getting scared. His lips were trembling like he was about to cry, he was clinging onto me for dear life, and one of these kids comes over and is being all mean and calling him a baby (which he basically was, so like what even is the point?) and I got mad. So I took my prop rapier from it's sheath and started jabbing his ribs and head until he rips it out of my hand.
"Jesus Christ, you little faggot. I'm keeping this, you're not getting your sword back."
"K, fine, just leave my brother alone."
"I leave him alone if you give me ALL your candy."
He says it with this shit-eating grin, like he's got the upper hand. But I'm mad and suicidal in the same way a horse is suicidal, which is to say I don't care if I die as long as this fucker dies too, so I tell him if he wants my candy he can have it, and I wallop him with the candy sack. Hard. I put all 70 lbs of 9-year-old rage into that whump, and to my credit it caught him off guard. He steps back and rubs his face and the biggest kid in the group steps into his place.
"You wanna fight?" He's trying to act tough but he's also trying to square up with an unquestionably faggy 9-year-old Dartanian so it's tough. It's also a stupid, stupid question to ask, since I literally DID want to fight and he was just posturing.
So I hit him too. Again, all the rage my 9-year-old body possessed channeled into a pillow case filled with Dum Dums and skittles slaps into his face. I move to smack him again, because he's looking at me all incredulous like he doesn't think I'm serious. He tries to grab the bag but I kick his shin and he has to step back for a second because he was on his bike with only one leg on the ground and I had just kicked it so he was trying to keep balance. I took advantage of the momentary distraction and whapped him in the belly. That, I think, was the final straw for him, because he (seriously, yes, for real) took out an actual knife.
It was a real folding knife, I could hear the little mechanical click as he flicked the blade out and the locking mechanism secured it in place. He looks at me with murderous intent for like a tenth of a second before one of my other friends asks,
"Dude, are you serious?"
And it clicks that he just threatened someone with a real weapon. He takes a step back and tells me, trying to sound brave but now far enough out of his own comfort zone that he's starting to wonder what happened in his life to bring him here (which is dangerous, confused people do confusing shit).
But I'm horse-style suicidal and I honestly didn't think it was real, so I swing at him again. Full-body swing right for the face, and he slashes at the candy pouch and it tears. And I'm like "Oh shit, that's a real knife!" and he's like, "Oh shit, this kid is gonna beat me until I stab her or run!'' And that's when my Knight-in-Emo-Armor arrived!
The kid was like the archetypal "Bad Boy" of my childhood. He wore black hoodies to church and said "damn" instead of "dang" and "shit" instead of "shoot." He listened to metal music and told his grandma (who adopted him after his mom lost custody for drug use stuff) to shut up sometimes. He smoked. He was a moody goth/emo/scene/whatever enigma of rage from his shitty family life. He was also known for being actually real-life dangerous. The kid in front of me was contemplating stabbing me, but my Knight had actually broken someone's jaw in a fight before.
The whole time we were getting held up, he was just walking down the street listening to an honest-to-God MP3 player, stoned as all hell, angry at the world, and watching this all unfold. And he recognized a bunch of kids from church he barely gave a shit about, but then he recognized *me* and although he didn't know *me* super well, he fucking LOVED my dad because my dad was super nice to him at church, and he knew I was my dad's kid. And he knows the kids talking to us are bad news because he's friends with some of their friends and he knows they're all wannabe tough guys. And he makes a decision.
This guy, my knight, was tall, mean, scary, and crabby, and EVERYONE knew that, not just the Mormons in my life. And in all black, with black hair and black nail polish, he had remained almost perfectly hidden as he walked in the middle of the road on the tar-black Arizona asphalt until he suddenly emerged from the shadows right behind the kid with the knife.
"Bruh, what the fuck are you doing?"
This kid whips around and sees my knight and just blanches. Like, all-the-way white-as-a-sheet scared.
"Oh, Knight, h-h-hey, I didn't see you. You know these kids? We're just teasing them!"
"Hilarious joke, cocksucker. That's a real knife. Fuck off."
They almost left a cartoon dust cloud in the shape of their bodies as they left. My friend and "friends" from church all followed suit - Knightboy was BAD news with a capital B-A-D and they were probably more scared of him than the original trio. But I knew Knightboy because he teased me a lot in his last year elementary school and sometimes came over to talk with my dad so I knew he wasn't a bad kid. He bends down and picks up the plastic sword the first kid dropped and gives it back to me.
"This is yours, I think."
I took it, sheathed it, and said, "Thanks! You shouldn't swear."
"Man, I'm too stoned for this shit, just get out of here."
"Ok, thanks Knight! See you at church tomorrow!"
And I toddle off with Littlest Brother. I take him to some of the best houses on our street for a second round of trick-or-treating so he can calm down, and we go home. My mom puts Scooby Doo on and asks me how everything went - I tell her it was fine, it was fun. She said that Littlest Brother said something scary happened, and I said "Oh, I think he got spooked by Knight is all." And she just shrugged and walked off. By the end of the night, I honestly forgot it even happened. I was more invested in trying to figure out how to grow up to be like Velma and lining my skittles up by color so I fully did not even remember.
BUT.
My mom is friends with all the other moms at church - she has to be because she has a master's degree in a church that teaches that employed women are failing God and their families so she ended up as a high-achieving woman working as a stay-at-home mom and if she didn't make friends at church she would fully go insane.
And at church the next day, my mom is approached by a tiny pack of mothers all saying "Wow, Lizard is so brave, aren't you so proud of her?"
And because she's a Good Mom who Loves Me So Much, she says, "Yeah, totally, why do you ask?"
And they say, "Because she tried to fight off some muggers last night! She hit them with her candy bag!"
And my mom says, "Haha, Yeah, she's fierc-wait what in the fresh hell did you say?"
And they all tell her the story, and my mom is PISSED that I didn't mention, but she also knows I am capital-D Dumb, so she pulls me out of Sunday school and asks me,
"Lizard, baby, did you scare off some muggers last night?"
And I said, "Oh yeah, kinda! Knight was the one that actually scared them though."
And she says, "Lizard, baby, why did you not tell me?"
And I said, "Oh, I forgot."
And she just nodded and tried unsuccessfully to push my little "Alfalfa sprout" strand of hair down, and gave up, and then pushed me back into class. And later that day she made like 3 lbs of chocolate chip cookies and drove them all over to Knight's house to thank him. And basically ever since then I was in Knight-in-shining-armor's good books (although he wasn't very good at showing it for a bit), and I had an undeserved reputation among the kids in my church as a badass for like a year, which I felt pretty good about.
Anyways, the Halloween Story is so weird that sometimes I question my own memory of it, but I am telling it now based on my memory as best as I can recall and after fact-checking it with my mom a few times.
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hyunjincanraptoo · 2 months ago
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Skittle game- L.FX
Requested by anon. This is from my prompt list. It's my first time writing for Lix so please be gentle 🥺 will try to post one more prompt tonight
14. Skittle game (adult version)
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Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: smut, fwb to lovers, contains a funny epilogue 
Alexa, play Señorita by Shawn Mendes & Camila Cabello
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The party was over. There were left only empty bottles on the table and music humming low from a now forgotten playlist, and the room smelled like beer and detergent. You were the only one left with feet bare, sleeves pushed up, scraping crumbs off the counter while Felix watched you from the couch.
He was slouched deep into the couch, his shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin above his waistband. His eyes were heavy, but still watching you, “You don’t have to clean”,  he murmured, voice deep as usual, “You’re not my girlfriend”.
You glanced back, smirking, “Good thing. I’d be a terrible one”. 
Felix just grinned, “You’d ruin me if you were”. 
Your skin tingled with it but you’ve danced around this too many times to let it get to your head. You rolled your eyes and tossed the last napkin into the trash.
“Want me to do what instead of cleaning?”
 “Want you to sit your pretty ass down and play a game with me”, he said, holding up a nearly empty bag of Skittles.
You raised a brow, “Skittle game. Seriously?”
He shrugged, “C’mon. Adult version. One round.”
You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. Damn, you always want to when it comes to Felix. But because these nights had a habit of turning into something more— almost everytime.
Still, you walked over and sat beside him, thigh pressed to his,  “Fine. Let's do it”
He shook the bag, grinning like a devil, “Pick one, make a question”
You drew first.
Orange.
You popped it into your mouth, let it melt a little on your tongue, then glanced at him,“Smash or pass?”
Felix huffed, “That’s not funny. We’ve already smashed”
“Doesn’t mean you won't pass next time”
His eyes darkened, “I won't”
“Someone is confident tonight”
“I’m always confident”
He leaned in then, mouth inches from yours, like he was daring you to kiss him first. You didn’t, you just drew another Skittle.
Red.
You smiled, “Kiss me anywhere but the lips”
His grin faltered for a second, replaced by something slower, still teasingly enough.
“Anywhere, huh?”
You nodded once.
Felix shifted closer, fingers brushing your knee before sliding up, like he was testing your patience. Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to your neck, just below the ear, where you could feel your pulse racing.
“You smell so sweet”, he murmured, breath hot against your jaw, “Always do after we fuck”
Your stomach flipped. You looked at him, but he was already pushing the Skittle bag toward you.
Yellow.
“Confess something that would ruin our friendship”, you said,  “I mean…. the benefits of our friendship”
He didn’t even blink as he answered.
“I want you to be mine only”
The air between you gets heavy.
You shift in your seat, pressing your thighs together instinctively, “Felix… ”
“You said ‘confess’, I’m just being honest”
You grabbed the bag again, drawing another candy.
Green.
You lick your lips, “Touch me for five seconds. Anywhere”
He didn’t think twice. His hand slid between your legs,beneath your dress, fingers reaching the lace fabric of your panties, pressing just hard enough to make your breath shorten. He counted out loud, low, with a smirk on his face
“One… two… three…”
You were already squirming
“Four…”
His thumb circled your clit once.
“Five”
Then he pulled away like nothing happened, licking sugar off his knuckle.
You glared at him, “Asshole”
He laughed, eyes shining, “Don’t lie to yourself, you love it”
Then it was his turn.
Purple.
“Ask me something you wouldn’t if we were sober”, he said
You hesitated
“Did you ever come thinking about me before we started hooking up?”
His smirk faded. Felix shifted in his seat, “You mean when I tried to pretend I didn’t want you every time you walked in wearing those tiny little skirts of yours? Yeah, I did”
Your soul almost left your body.
He watched you for a beat longer, then picked the last Skittle from the bag.
Red. Again.
“No repeats”, you murmured
“Who said I’m repeating?”
He leaned forward. Fingers curling around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lap like it was instinct. Like it had always been this easy to ruin you.
His lips brushed your ear.
“This time, I’m kissing you here”, he whispered, mouth ghosting over your chest, just above your heart before taking your lips on his
You were already grinding against him, desperate and warm, too aware of how good he felt under you. Too used to this yet never tired.
Then you slid off his lap, sank to your knees between his legs like muscle memory.
“You won again”, you said, smugly.
Felix groaned when your fingers hooked on his waistband, his head dropping back.
“Fuck. You’re really gonna…?”
But the sentence died the moment your tongue touched him.
You’d done this before— too many times— but never like this. Never this intentional.
His hands gripped your hair, breath catching every time you swallowed around him, every time you hummed and let your tongue trace patterns he never knew he needed.
And when you glanced up at him with big eyes, mouth full, he choked on your name.
“This… fuck… this isn’t just a game anymore”
You pulled back just enough to murmur, “Did it ever feel like one?”
He stared at you. And you saw it, right there in his eyes— something wild. Something like a mix of desire with euphoria.
You took him deeper, and Felix could swear he wasn’t seeing just stars but a whole galaxy. You were there on your knees warm and wet and so into it, and all he could do was sit there with his head thrown back, fists clenched in your hair, making the kind of noises he swore he didn’t make.
“Fuck… angel, wait…”
You hummed around him,the  vibration making  him twitch in your mouth.
“Holy shit… don’t do that….”
You pulled off with a loud pop, blinking up at him, faking innocence, “Don’t do what?”
“That”, he panted, pointing at you like you’d committed a crime, “That… thing. With your tongue. Shit… I literally almost fell in love with you just now”
You paralysed
He paralysed too.
“You what?!”
Felix’s eyes went comically wide, “I… I didn’t mean… I meant like… figuratively, like…”
You raised a brow, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, still on your knees, “Felix”
“Okay, technically I am already in love with you”, he blurted, entire face turning red, “But I was gonna wait until like… after. Or during cuddling. Or maybe never? But then you started humming and I just… I panicked. My brain was like, ‘tell her right now or you’ll die’ ”
You stared at him, still holding his dick.
He stared back, mortified.
“…Can I finish first?”, you asked, poker faced
Felix wheezed, covering his face with both hands, “Please, God, yes. But like, just pretend I didn’t say anything yet”
You grinned, leaning back in, “Oh, I’m definitely gonna pretend”
Just like that, your mouth was back on him, and all Felix could do was grab a pillow, muffle a very real sob, and think ‘I love her so much it’s disgusting’.
The pressure built in him, every movement of your lips pushing him closer to the edge. His fingers tightened around the pillow, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps, but nothing prepared him for the moment when he couldn’t hold it back any longer.
He pulled you closer by the hair, urging you on as his body stiffened with the release, a broken gasp escaping him. A shudder ran through him as he came undone, the pleasure almost overwhelming in its intensity.
He fought to keep his eyes on you, watching the way you took him in, and the sight alone was enough to make his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the physical sensation.
Felix’s body trembled beneath you, a mix of pleasure and raw emotion flooding through him. "I can't stop…", he gasped, voice cracked and shaky, but the overwhelming sense of vulnerability felt too real to ignore.
When he was done cleaning himself, Felix pulled you to his lap. His hands were holding on your waist like he was afraid you’d run away. 
The air was thick with something neither of you felt before.
You rested your forehead against his, your breath still uneven from what everything just had happened, “You really said it mid blowjob, huh”
Felix groanned, “I panicked”
You laughed, but it faded fast. Because you felt what he meant. Not just the words but also the weight of them. Like he’d been carrying this for a while. And suddenly, you didn’t know what to think anymore.
It wasn’t just fuck buddies anymore. Not just games and teasing.
Your fingers trailed up the side of his neck, settling in his long blonde hair, “How long?”
He swallowed without looking at you, “Few weeks. Maybe longer. I kept trying to stop. Kept saying it was just sex”
“But it’s not”
He finally met your eyes,  “It hasn’t been for me in a while”
The silence that followed felt fragile.
“I don’t know what to do with that”, you whispered.
“I don’t either”, he admitted, “But I’d rather be honest and ruin it than lie and lose you anyway”
You blinked, chest aching, “Lix…”
He shook his head quickly, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it so you’d fix it. I just fell in love with you while watching you eat cereal in my shirt and talk shit about my taste in movies. I knew I was doomed”
You pressed your lips to his tenderly, a little sad.
It tasted like goodbye or maybe a beginning.
He kissed you back like he was memorizing the taste of your lips. Like if it was the last time.
When you pulled back, your nose brushed his. Then, you asked, “What do we do now?”
Felix exhaled, still holding you like he was scared you’d vanish. But then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your jaw, then to your cheek, then the tip of your nose.
And he said, “We stop pretending. And we figure it out”
“And if we mess it up?”
He smiled, genuine, “Then we try again. And again. As many times as it takes. I won’t let you go, Yn”
Your throat tightened. Your hands slid to his cheeks, and you kissed, deeply and passionate.
When you pulled back, you whispered, “Okay. Let’s do it. Together”
“Okay”, he nodded, smiling, “Us. For real this time”
You both enjoyed the comfortable silence for a moment. Still tangled up in each other but no longer hiding behind rules or teasing or the label of ‘just friends’.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was real.
And real was enough for you. The both of you.
Epilogue:
You were brushing your teeth when Felix walked into the bathroom, hair a mess, sleepy eyes.
He blinked at you through the mirror, “…Are you using my toothbrush again?”
You glance over,mouth full of minty foam, “You already kissed me after I had your dick in my mouth. I think we’re past toothbrush boundaries”
He groaned, rubbing his face with both hands, “I hate how valid that is”
You spat, then wiped your mouth, and leaned against the counter, watching him lazily grab his own brush looking at it with disgust but strangely not actually feeling it
“I’m making cereal for breakfast”, you said, “The good kind. With cinnamon crunch rolls”
He grinned around the toothbrush, “You’re literally the love of my life”
You smiled at him and said, not being flirty this time, “Yeah, I know. You’re mine too”
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rorimoon9597 · 1 year ago
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Jason lay on the ground with Dick and Tim in a circle, their heads in the center. A bag of Skittles was passed around, and it took a small amount of effort to not choke on the candy.
"What if I started my own drug empire?" Jason asked randomly.
"I'd use the basement in Drake manor for that," Tim replied in equal serious measures.
"Why?" Dick asked, genuinely curious.
"It's dark, and large. No one has a reason to go down there, either. You could make and store a lot of drugs in there. Then I'd hand them out to the socialites of Gotham because hen I can over price the drugs and get more money."
"Would that even work?"
"The rich haven't been subjected to many good dealers. If you can get them the drugs they want, then they won't sell you out, and you can scam them without making it seem like a scam."
"You've thought this out, haven't you?" Dick asked.
"I consistently walk a tightrope of Hero and criminal. I could easily fall into the criminal side of things if I wished."
"You're unhinged," Jason commented off-handedly. He grinned. "I like that."
"Thank you." Dick made a noise of concern. "You literally killed the Joker because he boasted about killing Jason then threatened to kill me, Dick. Don't act like you're normal either."
"He became Robin to get revenge on his parent's murderer," Bruce said as he passed by his three sons.
"And you're a fucking furry," Jason muttered under his breath, just loud enough for his siblings to hear.
They promptly broke into laughter.
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rafesfawn · 7 months ago
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𝜗ৎ⋆。˚ trailerpark!angel!readers slight candy addiction ( ft. rafe wanting a sweet treat and not getting it )
warnings: fluff, fluff, and fluff! just genuinely them two just being cuties, a little suggestive, rafe being entirely unserious, use of the name pet once again (he’s a freak…)
a/n: so @cherrygirlfriend literally a lifesaver with this one, this wouldn't have been finished being written if not for her ilysm wife! also I wanna write smut for these two (maybe one about how she makes it up to him for the loss of his skittles) and I have some ideas but if you have any pls pls pls send them my way!!
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one thing about her, she is an absolute sweet tooth, and she's not usually picky but one thing she hates is yellow candies - skittles, lollipops, gummy bears, anything. she'll eat every other candy, but the yellow ones always remain at the bottom of the bag.
rafe really doesn't care, but when a person opens up a bag of skittles the last thing they want to see are just the yellow ones. which one afternoon, rafe for once wanting a snack throughout the day that is exactly what happened.
sporting a begrudging look on his face when he sees the yellow skittles, he decides to call for his girl, "baby!" rafe shouts up the steps, and she feigns innocence by sweetly calling out "yes, rafey?"
knowing what he’s after, the girl is already bouncing down the steps her braids bouncing in tandem, her boyfriend calling out for her to ‘come down for a sec’, the girl already prepared to charm the man to make him ignore anything she might've done wrong.
she made her way to the kitchen- he’s standing there, arms crossed; like a disappointed father. she tilts her head to the side a soft smile on her face batting her lashes knowing he couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
“wanna tell me what’s wrong here?” rafe asks his eyes going from the bag and then to her then the bag again. she makes a soft ‘hmph’ noise furrowing her brows as if she doesn’t already know.
it isn’t until rafe gives her the look, his eyes disappointed and expecting, as he starts impatiently tapping his foot, that she lets a soft sigh fall from her lips.
“m’sorry.” she mumbles, her eyes gazing up at him through her lashes. the weakest and silliest apology he’d ever heard, but she sounded so cute saying it, he couldn’t help but forgive her.
he lets out a short laugh taking a step closer, his hands itching to go to her hips as he bends down placing a kiss to her forehead. she giggles at the ticklish feeling of his lips on her skin. she goes on her tippy toes taking the chance to leave excited pecks on his cheeks her soft pink lip gloss leaving marks on his tan skin. thinking alls been forgiven for the skittle incident.
he leans down once more, she expects him to kiss her, soft pink lips starting to part in anticipation but he hovers making her pout. “think you gotta make it up to me, pet.” rafes voice a rough whisper twirling one of her braids in his finger. did he really care about some stupid yellow skittles? no not at all. but he’d use any excuse to get his little girl to do what he wanted as if she wouldn’t already.
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gotaksboyfie · 2 months ago
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Hi, I would like to request a Gotak boyfriend headcannons. Just how he is as a boyfriend and what he does, you can make it gn. I love your Gotak headcannon btw
go hyuntak boyfriend hc's
gender neutral reader
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» will literally never let you hold anything. your backpack? he's wearing it too. a jacket? draped over his shoulder. he's like your personal clothes hanger. even if you protest against it, he'll still do it anyways
» his hands get clammy so quick when you guys hold hands because he gets nervous. internally, he's freaking out over everything he does and as a result his palms get sweaty. whenever you point it out, he gets embarrassed and wipes his hands on his pants
» despite his clammy hands, he really likes holding hands anyway. it's a not so subtle way of showing to everyone: hey this person is mine!!! only mine!!! and we all know hyuntak is possessive..
» hyuntak's love language would be a mix of physical touch and quality time. he loves being in your presence, and skin to skin contact. even when you guys are just sitting down, his hand is on your thigh and you guys are shoulder to shoulder. he just wants to be as close to you as possible.
» (i don't remember if the basketball club has jerseys, but if they don't pretend they do ㅠㅠ) will always give you his spare jerseys to wear. he doesn't say it outloud, but he loves it when you wear them to his games. this isn't limited to just his jerseys; seeing you wear anything of his makes him extremely happy
» his favorite cuddling position would be him laying on your chest. his arms wrap around you like a koala, ensuring that you can't leave. it's super comfortable to him and he's always knocked out within minutes.
» sometimes ends up in fights over people talking bad about you.. you scold him every time but it doesn't stop him. no one gets to think bad of you on his watch
» hyuntak's constantly thinking about you. anything and everything reminds him of you. your dms with him are filled with random pictures and hyuntak saying "this reminds me of you." most times it's something stupid, like a candy wrapper on the ground or a blade of grass. and when you ask him, he manages to twist it into something sweet. ("you think i'm a half stepped on skittle?" "because you're sweet like one 🩷")
» yaps nonstop about you to his friends. every time baku even hears the first syllable of your name, he plugs his ears and starts chanting "lalalala". sieun just stares at hyuntak silently, but hyuntak's too far gone to notice that no one except for juntae is listening. even his basketball club members are sick of it, because mid dunk hyuntak can still be rambling on about you
» will always try whatever drink or food you're having, even if it's something he wont like. he just wants to be included in on what you like so he gets a better understanding of your tastes. ("hyuntak-ah, you won't like it,"
"shh if you like it i'll like it!" cue hyuntak nearly spitting out the bite he took the second he bit into it, and him playing it off "it's... flavorful,")
fin
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lueurjun · 29 days ago
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poison candy challenge. b.chan.
est. relationship. reader x bang chan. in which chan indulges in a tiktok trend with you.
don’t ask where this idea came from, this trend has been all over my fyp and i just feel like chan would be so fun. this is also an in the spur of a moment post so… probably not the best lmao. everytime i do one of these i realize how chronically online i am- probably need to work on that 😬
bang certified simp chan.
the husband of all husbands.
the definition of i would quite literally walk on water if it meant getting to you faster.
he’s not the most tiktok savvy guy
so he’s not particularly up to date on the trends
he gives insta reels sending you a trend three years after it’s passed type of vibes.
which means it’s not a surprise that he has no idea what trend you’re talking about
“you wanna poison me?” followed by that endearing nervous laugh he does.
“no sit down ill explain in a second.”
you press down on his shoulder, guiding him to a seat and he’s more than willing to oblige.
this man would sit in fire if you asked him to.
so would i but you picked him 🙄 not salty. i get it 😒
he watches you wearily as you pour the skittles across the table, dotting the oak with colour.
“is that sanitary?”
you smile to yourself, offering no explanation as you prop up your phone, framing the two of you in its view.
you plop down beside him, barely settled before his arm slips around your waist, one hand finding its home on your thigh.
so happy for you! … ʜᴏᴇ
ignoring the tingling in your nerves that sparks whenever your boyfriend is within reach, you turn to face him.
“we each choose a sweet to be the ‘poison,’ then take turns eating the rest. whoever eats the poisoned one…dies.”
“okay… that sounds morbid hahaha. should i be monitoring what you’re watching?”
with a light tap to his chest, you turn away to start filming.
“i’ll pick first.”
you reach for a sweet, only to pause upon realizing he’s still watching.
“turn around, you cheater!”
you reach over, gently nudging his face to the side, laughing as he lets out an exaggerated sigh and turns away. still, with his back to the table, you cover his eyes as an extra precaution.
with your free hand, you lean toward the table, eyes scanning the scattered sweets before settling on a green one right in the centre. you point to it, making a mental note to circle it in editing.
“done!”
it’s Chan’s turn to pick, and your turn to face away. as you did, chan leans a hand back to cover your eyes, only he decides to be playful and clumsily rubs his palm all over your face.
“Chan!”
laughing, he brushes the hair out of your face, then delicately places a palm over your eyes, kissing your cheek as an apology.
con😭gratulat😭ions
chan picks a red one on the far left side of the scatter, giggling quietly to himself as if this is the most exciting game he has ever played.
you turn back around, his hand falling to your waist again and giving a light squeeze.
leaning down to the edge of the table, you narrow your eyes, scrutinising the spread before you.
a crease forms in chan’s forehead as he frowns, gaze bouncing between you, the sweets and the camera.
“what are you doing?”
the way i read that in his voice-
“trying to see if i can see any handprint residue on the skittles.”
chan’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape before he bursts into loud laughter, curling into himself.
“are you a forensic? just pick one,”
“i don’t want to die, christopher.”
god forbid someone is thorough 🙄
abruptly sitting up straight, you pluck a yellow one from the right hand side and confidently pop it into your mouth.
chan watches you with a smile, his eyes dilated into the shapes of hearts.
when you turn to him, eyes big in expectation, his heart crumbles to dust and he can’t stop himself from grabbing your cheeks, plastering the biggest kiss to your nose
“you’re safe, my lovely forensic.”
throwing your hands up in victory, you cheer loudly.
chan is less thorough than you, deciding to just grab one and hope for the best.
he picks an orange one, the closest to you on the table and pops it into his mouth
you gasp, making him pause mid chew with wide eyes looking as if he’d just been caught red handed doing something he shouldn’t.
“am i dead?”
you relax with a grin. “no you’re safe.”
chan nudges you playfully. “why would you do that? i thought i was going to die.”
you remedy his hurt feelings with a sweet massage to his earlobe before leaning toward the table, steepling your fingers
the purple one draws your gaze, but you’re unsure so you glance back to try and gauge his reaction as you hand shifts over in that direction
realizing what you’re trying to do, chan cringes causing your hand to hover in mid air
“am i going to die?”
he quirks a brow. “i can’t tell you that’s cheating.”
“okay? don’t you love me enough to stop me from making a life threatening mistake?”
i do. 🙋‍♀️ I DO! take me instead.
“they’re skittles!”
frowning, you turn away from him with a humph causing a grin to spread across his face.
you decide to bite the bullet, fingers plucking the purple one and shoving it into your mouth.
chan stretches out the silence, prolonging the moment as you swallow the skittle.
now you might be dramatic but you swear it tastes bitter as the flavour coats your tongue.
“i’m going to die arent i?”
“no, you’re safe.”
you almost knock the chair over as you bounce in excitement, genuinely surprised.
“i am? i’m safe? really? i really thought that one was poison.”
chan laughs at your enthusiasm, suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression because there’s only you who could get this into a game revolving imaginary poison.
needing a release, chan squeezes your cheeks for a second before peppering several kisses to your chin before finally your lips.
“your turn!”
your cheeks are flushed, eyeing the camera sheepishly while Chan searches for a safe sweet, completely unfazed.
you’re not sure whether he’s forgotten about the camera or whether he just doesn’t care, either way, you’re very much aware of it and can’t help but pat your burning cheeks.
chan’s hand grazes the green one you chose, and your heart lurches
but it comes to a sudden stop, filling you with disappointment as he picks the yellow one next to it
you really thought you had that win the bag.
“safe.”
“try not to sound too thrilled about me living.”
his sarcasm earns him a tug of the ear, making him yelp.
confident that you will win the next round, you don’t really think too much into the one you choose, grabbing the red one on the far left side.
popping it into your mouth, you hum at the flavour failing to notice that chan has frozen beside you
“your go!”
when he doesn’t move to pick one, you turn to face him and see that he’s watching you with his mouth slightly hanging open
you know when bentley rubbed his eyes after touching onion and chan was just 😧 yeah that’s what he looks like.
“why are you looking at me like that?”
chan rolls his lips together, ridding himself of the victorious smile.
“you just died,” he whispered.
your jaw drops. “I JUST WHAT?”
“you ate the poison one…”
the two of you just stare at each other, though with vastly different expressions.
chan looks triumphant.
and you…
you look like someone just stole your first born.
“you almost ate the poison one! why didn’t you grab the green! your hand GRAZED it!”
chan looks toward the camera.
“it’s like they’re still here. i can still hear them talking.”
glaring, you lean back into the chair with your arms folded over your chest.
chan finds himself — and your reaction — utterly hilarious as he scoops up a handful of the skittles and pops them all into his mouth at once.
mouth full, he throws his hands up and cheers in victory at his win.
“glad to see you’re celebrating the death of your beloved.”
chan’s grin never falters as he scoops you up into his arms, peppering your face and neck in kisses.
“my favourite little sore loser.”
“i almost won! you literally touched the green one!”
238 notes · View notes
taehub · 6 months ago
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homme fatale
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Taehyung likes you. He likes you and he likes drugs.
taehyung x reader
wordcount: 4.6k
tags: thick dick taehyung, mindless fuck zombie reader, finger fucking, choking/suffocation, unprotected sex, cum stuffing, squirting, pain and pleasure, anal, hole swapping  warnings:  dubious consent, maybe could be considered non con, coercion, drug use, non-sober mindless fucking, don't like it, don't read it.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
───────
A vacant look, eyes blurry and head thumping to the bass bouncing off the walls. Your drink is sweet but nowhere near as sweet or deep in your stomach as the voice drifting through your ears. You can feel the wisps of his hair tickling your cheek, a soft melody loud and clear against you despite the booming music. 
“Wanna have some fun?”
You don’t pause the bliss in your body to answer, your hands reaching out to grab his sweat soaked shirt for the 30th time in the past ten minutes. You barely remember him approaching you, but you do recognize his face.
A regular on saturday nights, much like you. Always watching, stolen glances, but never shared words or dances. Until now, at least. 
He allows your tight grip on him, staying close enough to feel his lips against your ear lobe as he repeats the question, keeping his own hands on your waist as he sways along with you and your drunken dance. 
“Hm?” He encourages an answer against you, pulling back slightly to admire your already-vacant eyes from the drinks upon drinks you’ve ordered without his help. He’s counted. You’re on your fifth drink and he can almost taste the sweet alcohol through your scent.
Anyone can see how drunk you are. 
“And do what?” You sing your words out to him, unsure of if he catches it due to the way your voice hits your own ears.
Slurred, distant, barely audible over the music playing. 
“Wanna burn with me?” He continues with a smile in his voice, tone sharp and clear still against your ear. Still a sweet sound. Luring, something you would follow into the darkness. 
“Burn with you?” You manage to get out, your body becoming still as you stand with him in the middle of this dim lighted club. 
He nods, tilting his head at you with a smirk, eyebrows arched and dangerous regardless of the expression he gives to you. His eyes shadow deep in this dim lighting as he does it, and all you can do is let him grab your hand, leading you gently from the floor and balancing you through each stumbled and clumsy step. 
Only when he gets you towards the back of the club does your mind begin to spin. Likely due to your lack of moving now, unable to match the roller coaster in your brain, you feel like you’re going to fall. Off of something, onto something, into someone. 
And into someone, you do fall. But, Taehyung catches you all the same, letting you lean into him with your back to his chest as he moves one arm to his back pocket to present a handful of colorful candy. 
Candy?
You look at the array of colors in his hand with confusion, well aware somewhere in your mind that this is a bad idea. Already, you’ve surpassed your limit of drinking for reasons only known to you. Your reckless behavior never ceases though, as the devil on your shoulder shouts “Do it! It’s just this one time! He’s hot anyway!” 
“This one–” Taehyung pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you just so he can grab a singular pill from his palm. “Will make you feel like you’re flying.” He continues, uncaring and seemingly bored with that particular skittle-shaped substance. “But this one…” He grabs another, his voice now fond and encouraging. “Will make you feel like you’re burning.” 
Well, there’s no question as to which one you should take. 
You nod against him, following his enthusiasm for the hellish little pill. He feels a slight chuckle rise in his chest at your absent-mindedness. He thought it would be much harder than this to get you in his arms. He takes it upon himself now to tap the pill against your lips, holding you flush against him in a tight hold. 
“Open up,” He whispers against your hair.
You do it on instinct, tasting the tips of his fingers behind the sweet coating of the pill. You suck the flavor into your mouth all the same before gulping it down dry. Taehyung then spins you around to face him, and all you can do is blink up at him, seeing that his pupils are already dilated. They are so dark that they almost appear to be black, like a demon or some sort of otherworldly entity. Somehow, he looks sexier. 
“Now, come.” He says, grabbing your hand again and guiding you back, back, back, into a space in the club hidden by three doors and a hallway. 
You didn’t know how deep this building goes, but apparently others do. Each room is filled with different dimmed lighting, bodies, laughter, and moaning. 
Somewhere, deep in your head, you feel proud to know this space exists. Taehyung must have been here several times before, as you pass room after room only to end in one that’s velvety and comfortable. Your drunken state sees two of everything, but only one of Taehyung with his close proximity to you. Clinging to you as if he’s a child, chuckling against your neck as he holds you in a suffocating hug against him. 
“Close your eyes, let it hit you first.” 
You’re well aware that taking pills by mouth means it will take at least thirty minutes to hit, but there’s something in your gut washing over you, making you feel warm. 
Too warm, too fast.
You were already sweating but now, you feel almost cold with the amount of moisture against your skin within this tight hold. 
“Ah–” You groan, trying to push Taehyung away. You feel like you’re suffocating already, like you need to crawl out of your skin. 
“It’ll pass–” He soothes you, holding you even tighter. 
───────
“Oh, pretty, you look so warm.” Taehyung’s voice echoes in your head, bouncing off the empty walls behind your eyes and amplifying the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 
You’ve overdone it. Taking an unknown substance isn’t something you’d never do, but taking it from someone you’ve never once spoken to before tonight, despite recognizing him? It’s new, and it’s terrifying. 
Your blood was already boiling over from heat as you danced with him, now it feels as if you’re filled with nothing but steam. The intense sticky feeling against your skin feels restricting, and with him staying so close, equally as heated as you are, you can imagine you must look like a mess along with it. 
It’s like you’re melting, with your fingers gripping at your skin as you try to get out of it, only for the pads of your fingers to slip with no grip to them at all. You need ice, or snow, or to be anywhere but in this hot room with nothing but fire to feel. 
“I know, it’s scary the first time, isn’t it?” Taehyung smiles knowingly, tugging at your sticky black sweater, the rips and holes in it doing nothing to help you cool down. “Let me help you.”
Thinking straight isn’t on your agenda, only panic as you feel new sensation after new sensation take you by the throat. It’s not that it feels bad either. It’s just that it feels so good you can barely stand it. Like you’re going insane. Like you can and will do anything you want without consequence. 
You breathe in deep, feeling your sweater being tugged at by the blurry man, and instantly lift your arms. Relief overwhelms you when the cold air of the room hits your glistening body, goosebumps rising as Taehyung continues to undress you. Each drag of the fabric on your skin feels like heaven, and the air that hits it after feels even more heavenly. 
He smiles a wicked grin, pulling you up from the slippery leather of the sofa by the chains attached to your shorts, luring you straight against him. 
You can hear the chains rattling as he unclasps them, the weight of them lifting from your hips as his fingers go straight to your button and zipper. 
“Yeah.” He confirms for himself as he feels the entirety of your clothing dampened by sweat. “You’re burning up, baby.”
You nod, each removed clothing item cooling you down by the minute until he’s got you standing in front of him in just your bra and panties before he lets you fall back on the couch. You watch him with drowsy eyes, a smile perking up at your lips with the way your body is now hit with a wave of cool, calming euphoria. 
He lifts his arms in front of you, standing tall and proud in his black clad outfit, hair sticking to his forehead, v-line on his pelvis peeking from under a shirt too short for his torso. You stare at his skin, longing for it, wanting to clamp your teeth down and feel how warm he is compared to you. And he’d probably let you, if his now naked chest and shaking hands holding himself over you are anything to go by. 
“Looking like you wanna eat me up.” He whispers in a snide tone. Knowing you’d probably do just about anything he asks of you. “With a mouth so pretty, I think I’d let you.” 
You moan at a phantom feeling of heaviness in your gut, feeling like you’re being touched from the inside out. He’s just hovering, watching you, maintaining eye contact. 
Pupils blown and so wide, he can’t help but let you drink in the image of him as he does the same for you. So much to see in you, with that dumbed down little head of yours. He knows what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling, after all, he’s felt like this countless times. So many times he’s learned to control it himself now. 
You’re lost in a world of new pleasure, and he’s the one who gets to guide you through it. Like a brainless pleasure zombie, breathing, warm, pulsing in your flesh. A tight and wet hole all for him, any of the three if he so pleases. You’d please too, as he remembers begging for it much like you’re about to. 
Before you realize it, your eyes are welling up with salty tears. You don’t know why, but perhaps you’re just too overwhelmed by the jolts of pleasure shooting through you. Still, he’s not touching you. It feels like your body is on the verge of an orgasm every minute or two, skin shivering through the heat and your mind seeing everything in bursts of colors with each deep breath and thump of your heart. 
“Ahh–” You sigh out, your hips jutting up against nothing and no one, and still he just watches. 
Mostly because Taehyung, too, wishes he could crawl out of his skin, only he prefers to crawl into yours. He may be in more control through experience alone but his brain is also fogged, he is also needy, despite knowing he’s the one who needs to be thinking straight, you make it difficult.
Thinking straight isn’t that big of a deal though, because the act is mindless. To fuck is mindless. There are no instructions, not for him anyway. You though, you will be told how to look, what to do, how to feel, and you will listen easily. No fighting, not with that pretty heaving chest of yours, and that dripping hole between your legs.
Ah, he wonders if…if you were sober, would you still want him as badly as you do now? Would he need to make sure you’re burning or flying first? Because, fuck, he’s wanted you for weeks. Never did you approach him though. This was his only option. Wait til you’re drunk, fuck you up more, then make you want it.
He basks in the way you yearn for it. For him is what he tells himself, knowing you’d be this way towards just about anyone if it were someone other than him who is doing this to you. That's how the pill works, anyway. He will play pretend though, and let the euphoria whisp you both away. 
And he watches, and he watches. The way you hump up against nothing, failing to grip anything with both your needy hands and your dissociated little head. The sight is more beautiful than the first day he saw you. There, on the dance floor alone, ignoring everyone around you, ignoring him. 
“Ahh–” He mimics you. “That’s right baby, say ahh.” 
You do, feeling as if each released breath pushes you more and more over the edge, making your insides feel less tight. Ahh, ahh, ahh. Constant groaning as your body writhes for something, for anything. 
Taehyung inspects your open mouth, feeling a heavy twitch run from the head of his cock straight to his balls and it takes everything in him not to pull it out and stuff your mouth full. Instead, he slides his fingers in, slowly, deeply. So far down your throat that he’s shocked you don’t gag. You just lap at the underside of his fingers, blinking up at him, letting your throat restrict around them. Needy, wanting more sensations to bask in. 
He moans in response to that, looking at you with the same heat pooling in every end of his body. His fingers feel heavy, soaked in your spit and vibrating against your moans. 
“Gag.” He demands, jutting his fingers in further, scissoring them open to try and get that numb feeling in your body to react. He wants to see you struggle for him.
You do gag after that, though you were unable to feel any pain. His fingers press sensitive areas so deep, pressing the back of your tongue down before flicking his fingertips up and making you gag again, and again. 
Until your saliva is bubbling out around your fingers, until his cock is weeping in his pants to feel the same sensation his fingers have right now. 
Maybe he should do it. 
The sound of his zipper being undone feels like a roar of thunder, your eyes shooting down to the action as he fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth a few more times, his eyes not leaving the way your lips suckle around them. You see a blur of his cock whip out, leaking, angry, pulsing as he holds it in one hand and takes a short step towards you. 
There, he places himself right in front of you, one leg lifting to the couch at your side, the other standing right between your legs as he pulls his fingers from your mouth and instantly finds purchase in your hair. There, he guides you forward before you can even comprehend what’s happening, and he’s parting your lips right on the head of his cock and pushing in. 
All the way in.
Until it hits the back of your throat and your eyes roll back swallowing around it in a gag. Your lips are stretched out impossibly wide, they feel like they could split at the corners if he were to circle his hips. 
And his moan that fills the rooms booms louder than any sound you’ve heard tonight. Loud, drawn out, rattling deep from his chest as if it’s a sound that tore through him to get out. His hand in your hair tightens when he holds you there, pressing his hips forward to fit himself impossibly deeper into the wet hole, and he just stands there feeling how you struggle. 
“Fucking perfect–” He groans, standing in place and relishing the way your throat jerks him off. He doesn’t need to fuck it, you’re fucking him right now. “This throat, so wet.” 
He breathes through his nose, throwing his head back and still holding yours down on him.
“Tight little hole.” He pulls out just an inch, and fucks back in, fitting himself somehow tighter into your mouth. Letting you gag, feeling the way the wet walls hug, choke, and stimulate all parts of his cock, leaving none of him neglected. 
You know you can’t breathe, even when you try to use your nose, but somehow that doesn’t bother you right now. You’ve felt suffocated this whole time, it’s actually difficult to recognize when you’re actually suffocating. Taehyung glances down again, noting the whites of your eyes and the way little veins start to burst. That vein on your forehead indicates that you can’t breathe, and he’d do well to let you. 
But he doesn’t. Not yet anyway, as he tilts your head back by the hair and watches you. The way your eyes are just as wet as your throat, and how you continuously swallow around him, fingers gripping at nothing and everything at the same time. He knows tilting your head back like this only makes the suffocation worse, but goddamn does it feel even better. 
Short, tight thrusts bruise you as he continues, dark eyes fixated on how open your mouth is, and the way your eyes stay wide and open to look back at him. He knows you can barely see him though, too dissociated to recognize what you’re letting him do, too dissociated to put a name to a face, or to really care about the consequences of this. 
Finally, when your hands that were trying to grab at him fall to your sides, he pulls out with a wet, sloppy sound. Holding the base of his cock with his free hand and keeping your head tilted back with the other.
Your mouth is wide open for him, throat still constricting as if it’s still trying to pleasure him, and he smiles at you still. Leaning down just slightly to lick against your top lip just to see you chase his mouth now. And you do. As if none of that just happened, you chase him for more. He knew you would, feeling you try to lick back at his small, intimate gesture, whining all the way until you reach it.
It’s a mess for you in your head right now, so much so that you barely recognize that you throw him off balance as you chase. To the point you knocked him back, both of you falling to the floor with you on top of him. And fuck, he knows what you’re gonna do.
He remembers what he did the first time he felt like this and managed to find himself on top. He couldn’t fight you off if he tried.
You writhe all the same though, just like you did when you were under him, just like you did when he had his cock in your throat, and he feels every wiggle, press, and vibrate of your skin right now. You slide up and down, chasing his lips, seemingly not sure what to do with yourself. Tongue lapping at his cheeks, into his mouth, tasting the sweat on his forehead. You’ve never felt so hungry for this before, and you can’t help yourself. Each movement bumps his cock, it skews your bra, letting your tits fall out and against him, it draws moans out of both of you. 
Mindlessly. 
Perhaps he could stop you and take back control, seeing you grow more and more vacant. To a level he’s never seen anyone reach, to a level he’s never been able to reach. You’re really trying to take from him?
“You have no idea how pathetic you look right now.” He hums out, feeling the way your hot tongue slides all across his face and neck. “So helpless, weak. Just gonna take whatever I give you?”
You hum back in delight at his offer, nodding, repeatedly letting out moans of “mhm” and “please.” 
“Yeah.” He encourages it, slipping one hand up to your tit and pinching hard at your nipple. You arch your back at it, lifting from him as you feel the pain shoot all the way through you in a wave of pleasure. “All you’re good for is to make me cum, isn’t that right baby?” 
You cry out as he pinches again, his fingernails digging deep against your nipple. The goosebumps rise against your skin repeatedly, non stop, and all you can do is nod more aggressively at his words. 
Instantly, you’re dizzy, seeing stars as he shoots up and against you, pulling at your bra so hard that it singes your skin. His mouth is instantly on your nipple as he presses forward, tipping you back. Your head hits the floor, rattling your brain inside and forcing the stars already in your eyes to double. 
Still, you moan at it, letting your lips fall open under him as you lick out into the heavy air in the room. You don’t feel it at first, the way his fingers play with you the same way they did with your mouth. He slides three into you at once briefly, and then–
“T-thank you,” You mumble, feeling the head of his cock press past his fingers, plunging all the way in as he drops his head to yours. 
“Thank you?” He chuckles before flexing his abs, twitching himself intentionally inside of you as a means to stretch you out. “For what, baby, what are you thanking me for?”
He pulls back, thrusting in again with a pointed, harsh press. 
“Thank you–” You mumble again, feeling everything all at once. The burning in your gut, the thick and hard cock fucking you open, the way your clit radiates with heat– “thank you, thank you, t-”
He fucks forward again, faster now. Loud slaps fill the room as he stares down at you with a hold to his breath, seemingly unable to fuck you fast enough, hard enough, deep enough. And still you’re babbling appreciation, repeated words of “th-th-th-an-thank-you, than-k you, thank y-yo-you” 
Each time he bottoms out, you stutter, you moan, you lick out like a demon in heat. As if this still isn’t enough despite the force behind his hips. Despite the thanks, despite it all. 
He tears his fingers out of you, keeping pace with his cock, and instantly sticks them into your ass instead. The tight fit squishing all three fingers together, but oh, that choked sob you let out is music to his ears. Sobbing now, and still thanking him. 
His fingers press in, his cock fucks so deep, and then…you gag yourself. So needy for it, to be filled at all ends, you shove your own fingers down your throat and beg your mind to pretend it’s him. It’s him. It’s him.
And you believe it too, with the way you fuck your own mouth so painfully, drooling all over yourself as Taehyung basks in the imagery. 
“Just like that.” He encourages you through a released breath. 
“Gag on it.” 
And you do, forcing your fingers deep, gagging around them and sputtering moans through wet gasps. He manages after that, pulling out of you entirely just to fit his cock somewhere else, staring down now at your gaping cunt, needy and pulsing open, loose, dripping. He watches the way it flinches when he pops the head of his cock into your ass, grabbing both of your legs and bending them to your chest. Wide open, every part of you. 
Open and wet. 
He fucks forward painfully now, feeling the dry heat of your ass clench him so tight he feels like he’s being strangled. Your moans go quiet at that, fingers falling from your lips in a silent scream of pain. He likes that. He likes that you’re this gone, he likes the way your ass clenches and tries to push him out. But he loves seeing this pussy so empty. So, so empty. 
Taehyung glances up at your face for a moment, so curled into yourself all for him to fuck, and he sees you in full. The way your eyebrows furrow and eyes pour out those salty little tears. You’re loving it, he can tell. And, back down his eyes go, right back to your needy cunt. 
“Every part of you fucking whines.” He breathes in disbelief, sucking the saliva in his mouth to the tip of his tongue and feeding it to your pussy. He watches it, the way it drops in and slides down the abused hole. And then, his hips move freely. 
The slide of his precum slicking up your tight ass and allowing for a deeper, more pleasurable fuck now. He doesn’t mind the small amount of blood he knows thats there, he doesn’t think you do either, especially when your entire body clenches up with a loud, pornographic “Fuck!” coming out of your chest, followed shortly by a “Yes! yes! yes!”
It drives him on, as if it hyper-focuses him on what he’s doing. He thrusts forward, fast, hard, pushing your legs into your chest so painfully that all you can do is bask in the pain. Your ass is burning, your pussy is hot, and your clit…neglected. 
Still, it’s in you. You feel it wanting to push out, and you can’t help it when you do. 
Taehyung watches the clench, the way your pathetic cunt shakes in front of his eyes and the other hole clenches him so tight that all he can do is force himself into it and hold it there. A splash hits him then, without comprehension he acts, pulling out of your ass so fast and shoving right back into that drenched pussy of yours, quivering, squirting all over yourself for nothing but the pain he’s giving you. 
“Messy, messy.” He coos. “Gotta plug you up.” 
His voice is far away as your body shifts with his movements, seemingly trying to literally plug you up with his cock. Forcing the pressure inside of you to sit, as if you can only explode to get rid of it. And still your legs shake against your chest. As if you’re not burning now, you’re freezing. Shivering, feeling ruined, but so, so good.
“All the way.” He adds, unable to hold back his own orgasm. 
He tenses up, pressing impossibly deeper and letting all of his cum spill out and into you. Holding you there, both hands wrapped around your thighs and forcing your pussy against him even harder. You feel each pulse of it, every drip, spurt, and shiver of his cock inside of you. And he stays like that, moaning filthy words that you can’t comprehend, sweat dripping onto you. You want nothing more than to stick out your tongue and catch every drop of it like the first rain of spring, but you can’t, not when you’re essentially locked in place like this. 
Still, he doesn’t move. His cock stays stiff and painfully hard even after his orgasm as he grunts, now muttering to himself words of “every drop. every, last fucking drop.”
He means those words too, letting your quivering body milk it out of him, all of it until he very quickly pulls out and cups his hand at your cunt, as if to keep any from spilling out. 
“Cross your legs.” He demands now, like you’d consider fighting him on it. 
You try, but your body is weak, and you’re still shivering. He helps you, or rather, forces you. Using both hands to cross your legs before quickly grabbing your hand to replace his. He picks out four of your fingers before uncomfortably skewing your hand, shoving them into you and pressing your hand hard. 
“Good.” He hums. “Stay like that.”
You’re not sure how long he’s going to leave you here like this, but it’s not like time matters too much to you right now. You don’t even know what day it is anymore, or where you are. You don’t care either, even as you hear the heavy door slam and silence overtake you. 
───────
771 notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 2 years ago
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You left him for two minutes. All of two minutes.
On the rare days off that you and Shoto get to spend together, it’s almost always spent curled together on the couch or in the bed, watching him work out for fun before making him cheat on his diet, anything that lets the day drip by slower than any other day of the week.
You left him to pee. That’s it. Placing the bowl of sour candy down, you slip out from his lap, give him a kiss before moving down the hall like any standard, subconscious person would.
Two. Minutes.
“Shoto, what’re you doing?”
“You like the strawberry flavor the best.”
By the time you come out, he’s got a pile of pink candy, separated by the other colors except for purple, which is in its own little pile. “You don’t like the grape flavor.”
You quirk a brow and walk back over to him, watching as he continues to segregate the candies, “baby, I would’ve been more than happy to just pick around them, you didn’t have to do all of this.”
“But you don’t like them,” he repeats, looking up at you with those doe eyes that you love to get lost in. “You look down every time you reach for one. I thought I might help ease the burden slightly.”
Burden. Your first world problem of not liking sour grape skittles should be the farthest thing from a burden to him.
But to shoto, it’s not one, and it’ll never be one; little acts of services like these aren’t new, small details just to make hour by hour tasks and privilegies just that much easier.
It’s something he’s always done. Something he’s always going to do. Because he loves you.
With a smile, you slink back into his lap, your head nuzzling against his stomach while the tv drones on about whatever he put on while you were gone. You kiss the warmth of his tummy to feel the muscles constrict under the affection, and you bury your hand into the bowl of candy right after.
“Don’t be cheeky.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum. A hand rests on your head, thumb gently rubbing over the warmth of your crown as silence fills the room once again.
Popping a skittle into your mouth, your face quickly grimaces, and he hums in acknowledgement.“Eugh,” you grumble, and he looks down at you, silently asking you what happened.
And you want to lie. Truly! It’s better for everyone if you do, just tell him you bit your tongue and let him think nothing more.
But apparently, you don’t.
“Missed a grape one,” you tease.
“….”
“Sho?”
“Spit it into my hand.”
“Sho, no-“
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connorsui · 8 months ago
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Sylus x wife! reader || Halloween ||
"Crow Onesie"
Note: sum quick, u can pop in ur mouth like a skittle...
So, Halloween is obviously around the corner, which means it's time to hand out candy to the kids and maybe do some dress-to-impress with your beloved. But you know, one thing I’ve been thinking about is how we would dress up our baby, who hasn’t even reached a year old yet, with Sylus…
Just imagine for a second—we could be dressing our baby in all kinds of cute costumes for pictures, to keep in an album for treasured memories to look at when they’re grown and ready to head out on their own.
But there’s one particular outfit that leaves you in shambles....—your chubby, plush baby dressed as the most adorable crow you’ve ever laid eyes on.
The crow onesie is beyond adorable—it's soft and fluffy, made from the kind of fabric you just want to snuggle into. The tiny wings on the sides flap slightly as your baby moves, and the hood, complete with a little beak, sits atop their head, making them look impossibly cute. The black feathers aren’t real, of course, but they’re so plush and cozy that it only adds to the charm. You can’t help but smile at how your baby giggles, completely unaware of how perfect they look.
But the real magic happens when you convince Sylus to match. He grumbles playfully at first, but when he sees your face light up at the idea, he can’t resist. Soon enough, Sylus is in a matching crow onesie, towering over your tiny baby in his oversized costume. The sight of him, the usually cool and composed Sylus, now dressed up to match your baby, has you laughing harder than you have in ages.
You grab the camera and have him hold your baby close, posing for the sweetest picture. Sylus gazes down at the baby with an expression that’s a mixture of amusement and pure adoration, his heart clearly as full as yours.
You snap a few photos, unable to stop smiling at how precious they both look.
And then, before you can put the camera down, Sylus reaches out to you.
"Come on, Darlin' You’re not getting out of this," he says with a grin, pulling you into the frame.
You laugh, shaking your head, but his hand is already pulling you in. “You know I cant say no to you!" you giggle, slipping into your own matching crow outfit.
He grins, clearly pleased, as the three of you huddle together for one last photo. "Perfect," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead just as the camera clicks, you know this moment will be one you’ll cherish forever, a memory perfectly captured of the three of you in your fluffy crow onesies, laughing, posing, and simply being happy together.
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What's gonna be ur go-to outfit?
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