#I’m tired of women designed for men to want to fuck

[anundyingfidelity]

heyy, how are youu? hope youre doing great!! congratss on your 400 followers 🎉!! i saw that you open a request maybe you would write a drabble for dark!soldier boy since theres not much dark fics about him and ive been craving it so badly. please and thank youu!! 💓💓

hellooo, i am doing good! thANK YOU SO MUCH! absoutely i will! since there's no specific details i just went with it for a dark!soldier boy drabble with a mix of stuff. i hope you like this one! :)

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

CRUEL INTENTIONS — Dark!Soldier Boy x female reader

Word count: 590 (oops).

Genre: dark stuff, smut.

Warnings: dark!soldier boy, dub-con, p in v smut, mentions of pain, dacryphilia, innocent!reader, corruption, degradation, soldier boy is obsessed with reader.

Since the first time he saw you around the Vought building, Soldier Boy knew he had to have you. No matter what. Having you under his mercy was his ultimate goal.

You were a new secretary around. So innocent, so pure, and full of life and joy, getting into the supe business making boring tasks and jobs designated to women like you. But Soldier Boy saw you enjoying all of that. You always arrived early to work, with a smile that would brighten the day of any idiot by your side. Your laugh was sweet and perfectly created to be ruined, only by him. To your lovely voice to be converted into pleas and cries.

After days of not so subtly hitting on you, playing the nice gentleman, he had you under his skin using lies and a couple of threats. Soldier Boy remembered the way you accepted his invitation to his annual ‘private party’ without specifying any further details. The party that was Herogasm. And now, he fucked you into oblivion over a rustic wood desk, taking in the tightness of your cunt around his dick and the sinful moans slipping from your sore throat. His eyes taking in the sinful sight of his cock entering your tight pussy, walls clenching around him yet again as you reached your peak. Soldier Boy already lost count of how many times he had made you cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me,” he hissed. His thrusts never stopped, instead increased their rhythm. “Look how much you’ve come because of my cock. Am I that good, my little slut?”

You looked away, shutting your eyes closed as you felt another orgasm building inside you, pleading with a broken voice. “Please, please…”

The tears were already coating your flushed face, ashamed of what was happening and not sure if it was right. He was just using you. But at the same time, you wanted more of him. Soldier Boy already bent you over every surface of the room, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you, handling you like if you were just a mere ragdoll for him to play with as much as he wanted, taking you apart from the whole orgy that was showing outside. He was fucking insatiable, barely getting rid of his helmet and just taking out his hard cock to fuck your mouth and then get buried inside your tight cunt. At first, you weren’t sure about letting him fuck his way with you, but his voice and promises of pleasure were more than sufficient to somehow give in.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy feels like heaven,” he breathed, increasing the tightness of his grip on your hips.

Even if your thighs felt like burning, that your whole body was under ache due to the hard grips on you, you needed him. And he was going to make you his little plaything. He smirked as you, one more time, dissolved into the sweet and painful pleasure of cuming around his girth, letting out a sinful moan that mingled with the animalistic sounds of women and men fucking like beasts outside the room. He hissed with anticipation, his lustful eyes lingering over your teary face as he slowed down his thrusts. Fuck, he wanted nothing more but to make you cry harder.

“Sweetheart, I still need to cum,” he purred, wiping the tears rolling down your skin.

You sobbed, catching your breath. “I’m tired.”

 “Just a couple more rounds, you’ll do it, baby.”

Soldier Boy was being kind to you. Next time he wouldn’t go that easy.

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Don't Be a Sweat

Pairing: Gamer Yunho x Gamer Fem Reader

Genre: Smut & Fluff

Warnings: Sub Yunho, dom reader, fem reader and parts but no fem names, cum eating, exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe pls), cursing, if its anything I missed pls let me know.

Word count: 4.8K (one day I'll get past 4k lol)

A/N: First sub Fic, I think I did an okay job but let me know if you like it!

Minors dni

Smut under the cut

The door to your best friend’s room opens and you and her walk into it, you both plop down on her bed tired from a long day of socializing. You both decided to do attend a "group date" that the designated match maker of your friend group set up. 3 hours of karaoke with the lamest guys you think you've ever met it was so dreadful and boring, you would have much rather been home streaming yourself playing overwatch or the new PSN free games of the month.

"I know what you're thinking Y/N." Your best friend turned to you and said,

"And what am I think little Ms. Mind reader."

"You're thinking "God those guys sucked I bet they couldn't even beat me in a 1v1 on Minecraft." or something like that." you both laughed.

"Good effort but you can't 1v1 on Minecraft there is no fighting on it, Minecraft is-"

"Ah- spare me the nerdy details I hear enough gamer bullshit with my brother. Anyway, what the hell was she thinking setting us up with that pack of losers of the year." She laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh god did you hear the one ranting about all women wanting money." you joined her in her laughing.

"If you're gonna ask me my income you're gonna need to cook and clean blah blah blah go live in the fucking 50s then! Oh, and the one that hounded you when you told him that you're a streamer."

"I bet I could beat you at this! I bet you've never heard of this! Like gag me, literally."

You two started laughing louder at your impressions of the men, they truly were just that pathetic, but to you, every man was.

Being a streamer, you run into your fair share of overly misogynistic incels that hate you just because you like games and have a vagina but in reality they would crumble at your feet if they ever saw you. Hot women that play games make men angry for some reason and you wanted nothing more than to break them down . Beating them after they whine about how you're a terrible and only popular because you're pretty, always made you smile. It was kind of a sick enjoyment you got out of beating them but who care, sweats get no sympathy from you.

Speaking of sweats as you and your best friend were enjoying having a laugh you suddenly heard loud knocking on the door. Your best friend rolled her eyes.

"Ugh What!" she knew exactly who it was.

The bedroom door swung open and in walked your best friends twin brother Yunho. Yunho was also a gamer like you, very tall and handsome but you two have never seen eye to eye. Ever since the day you became friends with BF/N Yunho terrorize you. Calling you names,  embarrassing you in front of guys, making fun of your hair and outfits and just being an all-around bully. Eventually feelings became mutual, and you only put yourself around him to hang out with your friend but other then that you and Yunho couldn’t even have a conversation with out arguing.

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? I’m trying to play squads with the guys, and they can barely hear me over you two.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever they will live.” Your best friend said while trying to wave her brother off.

You let out another giggle “You guys can barely shoot straight I’m sure we aren’t the reason you guys are losing, y’all just suck.”

You and BF/N started laughing together again as she slapped your shoulder.

“Ohhh Y/N maybe we should invite Yunhos friends over they are actually kinda hot and a few game like you, you’ll really like the really hot one uhm what’s his name- oh San!”

“Ooouuu, he sounds sexy, maybe we should invite them over.”

“As fucking if, my friends would never date a chick like Y/N.” Yunho rolled his eyes.

“And what the hell kinda chick am I Yunho.” You folded your arms and tilted your head ready to pop off at him.

“The kinda chick who can’t keep a guy even if he was locked in her basement because no one wants her ugly ass.”

“Now I’m ugly? Well, who dyed their hair Blonde just to get a girl that ended up fucking everyone BUT you.”

His ears and face turned red in embarrassment.

“Sis, you told her about that?”

“Yuyu, I had too, I wanted her to feel bad so you guys could talk, and you could finally tell her you like her.”

Boy if his face wasn’t red then it sure was red now, he even tried wiping the embarrassment off.

“What !? As if I would like some girl that spends all her time gaming and talking shit online like a fucking loser. I’d never date someone like her!”

“Good cause it’ll never fucking happen, maybe I should do what BF/N said and fuck your friend just to piss you off!” You stood up at this point, who the hell does he think he is calling you a loser.

“Fuck you Y/N!” He yelled before walking out and slamming the door, thank God Yunho and BF/N moved out and into their shared apartment so their parents didn’t hear the argument.

You plopped back down on the bed.

“God what the fuck is his problem? It’s like he hates my guts for no reason.”

“It’s just like I said Y/N, the boy likes you.” She yawned and stood up to change into her sleeping clothes.

“What? BF/N be serious here.”

She finished getting ready for bed and you got up to change into the shorts and shirt you brought with you to spend the night.

“I am being serious; he’s always liked you that’s why he’s mean to you.”

She got up and turned off the lights and got under the covers, you did too, you two faced each other.

“If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself tomorrow, good night, Y/N.”

“…night.”

You two eventually drifted off to sleep but your mind was still racing, did Yunho really like you? Isn’t that “boy is mean to the girl he likes” trope only in moves and poorly written fan fics? (Girl I’m trying my best)

Around 2am you were woken up by Yunho yelling, he was most likely playing the game with his friend, you could hear him faintly saying “Bro get him” and “Fuck” in the next room. You were going to go back to sleep but decided to see if what your friend said was true because it was slowly eating you up. You got up and walked to the room next door and knocked on his door. You could hear him telling his friends he would be back and then he opened the door. He had on random graphic tee and some grey sweatpants; fuck why does it have to be grey sweatpants. His room was nice, the lights were out but the LED strips around his bed still lit up the room.

“Oh, its you, what do you want?”

“Um, well can I talk to you for a second?”

“I mean I guess…” he walked back over to the gaming chair that was stationed in front of his TV and sat back down.

You decided to sit on his bed on the edge facing the TV and there was a brief awkward silence before he broke it.

“You came to my room just to sit here and stare?”

“No…um…”

“Spit it out dude God, what’s your problem why can’t you be normal?”

Even with you trying to talk to him he just pisses you off.

“I heard you got the new street fighter game, lets play it.”

“What ?”

“Yea let play, loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, no I’m going back to playing with my friends.” He picked up his controller and put his headset back on. You just couldn’t understand why Yunho was so mean to you, what you ever did or why he just woke up and chose to treat you this badly. If what your friend said was true then you needed to find out, tonight! While Yunho continued to play with his friends you took matters into your own hands and snatched his headset and controller.

“What are you-“

“Sorry, Yunho is busy he’ll get back on later.” You said directly into the mic then quit his game mid match.

“Y/N What the fuck is your deal?”

“Shut up.”

He sat quietly while you started up the street fighter game, you tossed him back his controller and grabbed the unoccupied one and turned it on.

“Now like I said, loser has to do what ever the winner says got it?”

“…fine”

“Good.”

You two selected your characters and the match started, 3 rounds, unlimited time. You and Yunho played while making random grunting sounds and shouting one worded taunt but even he couldn’t match up to your acute game skill. The match ended with you as the winner, and you raised your hands in victory.

“That was such BS.”

“Don’t be a sore loser YuYu.”

“Don’t call me that! I’m not a kid any more Y/N.”

“Whatever, since I won you have to do whatever I say now.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Hmm…for now you have to sit next to me on the bed.” You said in a slightly shaky voice.

He arched his eyebrow but chose not to question it getting up from his gaming chair and sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Your heart started to beat a bit faster, Yunho has never made you feel this way before but with the thought that he may like you in mind it made you feel a bit shy.

“Earth to Y/N, come on let’s go again.”

“Y-yeah okay let’s play.”

Why was this making you so shy, you aren’t that kind of person especially for Yunho, so why is the thought of him liking you driving you crazy. You had zoned out thinking and didn’t realize you were losing, by the time you snapped out of it you had lost the match.

“I thought you were supposed to be some awesome ass gamer, that was terrible.”

“Shut up! What do you want me to do ?”

“How about you play in just your bra from now on.”

You scoffed because you knew that he was doing this to embarrass you, you knew he just wanted to belittle you. Even if he did like you, he was still an ass, and you were determined to finally put him in his place.

“Fine you want to play it like that, say less.”

You took off your night shirt and Yunho looked back at the TV to get ready to play the next round. Round after round Yunho lost to you because you had to show him who’s the top gamer here. You kept his theme of stripping, and he was left playing in just his underwear, his face was red as a tomato, and he was flustered playing. The next round started, and he pulled the ultimate foul move of gaming, pausing to see the move list.

“Come on YuYu don’t be scared of losing.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

He growled lowly. “Shut up, why are we even doing this anyways?”

“I have my reasoning, so come on and lose like a champ.”

Your eyes focused back on the TV and before he could unpause the game to take his loss, a message from one of his gaming friends came up.

xX_CallMeDaddyMin_Xx: Yo, Yunho did you screw that streamer chick your sister is friends with finally lol.

You both read the message and before you both could react another friend sent another message; you realize it’s coming from the group party chat. You disconnected his mic but forgot to leave the party too.

__bl00dy__San__: Yeah, tell her how you always watch her streams, probs jack off to them to lmaooooo.

Before anymore messages could come through, he turned off the TV.

“Ge-Get out I’m going to bed.”

He was a blushing mess, everyone just kept outing his little secrets today, he got under the covers and covered his face, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, he was so cute when he was shy, and you hated to admit it. You crawled up next to him, now was your chance to get some revenge.

“Come on YuYu, tell me if what they said was true.” You snaked your hand under the covers slowly, trickling down his leg.

“Leave me alone.”

“Do you watch my streams YuYu?”

“Go the hell away Y/N” he said in a muffled shy voice, you needed to tease him more now, this was your area of expertise. Once again you were used to toxic guys trying to come into your streams to harass you, but you had a love for turning those same yelling dickheads to whimpering messes, it gave you so much power, and to finally have that advantage over the same guy that has bullied you for years. You were going to enjoy this way more then you should, and so was he, you reached up and whispered into his ear.

“Why YuYu? Don’t wanna admit you like to watch me stream even though you hate me.”

Your hands reached his V line, you played with the band of his boxers.

“I-I don’t hate you…”

“Oh really? How do I make you feel then YuYu?”

Your hands dived into his boxers, and you found his semi hard length, you started to rub up and down the shaft slowly to really tease him. One thing you hated to admit about Yunho was that he was packing. You grew up seeing him in all kinds of clothing and sometimes would see the outline, but you’d rather choke then admit he had a big dick but now that you’re feeling it it’s undeniable.

His bit back a small moan at the feel of your fingers on him, his mind was racing, the girl he’s been madly in love with since they were snot nosed was in his bed feeling him up, how could he possibly function.

“….you’re okay I guess.” He continued to hide his face in the covers.

“No, no little baby, I need a better answer then that, or do you just want me to stop and leave.” You stopped moving your hands but didn’t take them out of his underwear.

“No…please don’t stop.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to stop YuYu? Am I making you feel good? Is that why you watch my streams? Because I make you feel good baby.”

He didn’t respond so it was time to push these answers out of him, or more so rub them out of him. You gripped the base of his length and started to slowly pump his dick, he let out a soft moan at the sudden friction and it made your clit jump, you needed more and so did he.

“You…you look nice when you’re gaming.”

“Aww thank you baby but I’m asking you how I make you feel, so tell me that.”

Moving your hands up and down his shaft you directed your attention to his tip, pumping it tightly as precum slowly oozed out of it, you spread it over his tip the more you pumped, you wish he wasn’t so shy so you could watch his pretty pink tip be teased right now.

“Do I turn you on Yuyu? When I watch and degrade those guys on my stream does it make your dick throb? Do you wish I was talking to you?”

He could barely focus, the slow stroking on his length made him dizzy because the sensation was so strong.

“How about you let me see you Yuyu, let me see you fall apart for the girl you claimed to hate all these years.”

You pull the cover back and pull his dick out of his boxers, his dick was red and ready to burst, the tan shaft had pretty veins bulging on it, he had some girth, but the length was something to look at.

“Wow Yuyu your dick is so pretty for an asshole.”

He covers his face and looks away from you, he didn’t know rather he wanted to disappear or cum, your teasing was so sexy, but he didn’t envision the first sexual encounter with you going like this, but he wasn’t mad at it either. You started to pump his dick even more and moved down to it. As you pumped his dick faster, he bit down on his lips hard.

“Don’t hide YuYu let me see what you look like when you cum, is that what you want baby? You want to cum for me like a desperate little slut?”

“…yes…please…”

“Please what baby?” You kept a steady pace as your grip tightened a bit.

“…please let me cum for you Y/N.”

You grinned a bit at his begging.

“Show me Yuyu, show me how you touch your self when you watch my streams.”

He was shy but he was desperate, he sat up and you removed your hand from his needy dick, and he replaced it with his own. He avoided your gaze, his whole face was red, and his eyes were low, he wanted to cum for you so bad it was driving him crazy. He started to pump his sensitive cock, throwing his head back onto the LED lit bedframe, breathy moans coming from his plush M shaped wet lips.

“Ah…Y/N…please watch me cum.” He tightly closed his eyes as he could feel his climax steadily approaching.

You had a lustful yet evil smile on your face.

“Of course, baby I’ll watch you stroke your slutty dick all night if you want me too, but I want to see more baby so don’t cum just yet, okay?”

He opened his eyes, his vision was hazy, his climax was right on the horizon and having him hold it only made it worse.

“Please…please let me cum for you Y/N” his grip on his shaft was firm as he continued to fall apart under you gazes.

“Mm well since you ask so nicely and you’re so desperate, go ahead and cum for me Babyboy.”

His moans were soft but got louder as his strokes became faster until his came. He shot hot ropes of cum from his throbbing cock, he continued to pump as it shot out and landed on his legs. His chest puffed in and out as he held his dick in his hands, he tilted his head on the side of the headrest of the bed. You giggled at his fucked-out state.

“You’re actually so cute YuYu.” You gathered up all the cum that came out onto your fingers, his eyes opened to see what your next step was. You put your now cum covered fingers into your mouth and sucked all of it off as he watched.

“Come on Yuyu, I want to play some more.” You sat on your legs and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, when you removed it Yunhos eyes was glued to your 2 mountains. You took it a step further and removed your shorts and underwear. Yunhos breathing spiked again and his softened rod started to rise once again.

“Do you want to touch me Yuyu? Go ahead and touch me wherever you like.”

He eagerly nodded his head and reached out both hands and gripped both your breast, he started to massage them.

“Ah~ that feels so good, touch me more okay Yunho.”

He brushed his thumbs over your nipples, and you moaned even more, your aching cunt became hot as you threw your head back.

“Ca-can I kiss you?” he shyly asked.

“Of course, baby.”

He didn’t waste another minute and planted a hot kiss on your lips. You’ve had sex with plenty of guys before and kissed lots of them, but this wasn’t like any kiss you’ve ever had, this kiss had dept and meaning to it, however now that you realized it, this whole moment felt so sensual. His touch on your breast gave you goosebumps and his tongue entering your mouth made you want him even more, you never realized just how much your body yearned for Yunho until now. Your tongues were doing an elaborate dance before he disconnected your mouths.

“Y/N…I need to taste you please…” Before you could even respond he pushed you down and got between your legs.

“You’re such an eager little baby, you want to taste my pretty little pussy that bad?”

He once again nodded eagerly, the look in his eyes looked like he wanted to literally eat you. You decided to give him what he is craving, and you spread your legs nice and wide so he could get a nice view, he leaned down and put his face inches away from your soaking cunt, he was so close you could feel the small breaths he was taking.

“It’s so pretty Y/N” Your face got hot at the compliment, one of the rare times he has complimented you and its about your pussy, you felt like melting. He licked one long stripe from your hole to your clit, then flicked his tongue on your nub, your legs flinched to close, and he swiftly brought his hands up to hold your legs open. He was eating your pussy like he was on death row, and this was the last meal he requested. Your back arched and staggered moans started to come from your mouth. He inserted one then two fingers into your hole, your pussy clenched and unclenched repeatedly around them as he sucked your clit like it was a lollipop. Your hands gripped his newly bleach blonde hair.

“You’re doing so good Yuyu, I’m going to cum on your pretty face if you keep going baby.”

“Please Y/N, please cum on my face, I need more of you.”

He hadn’t even entered you yet and he was already pussy drunk, he kept licking your core like his life depended on it. Your hips started to buck and you grinded down on his face, the feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit and his long slender fingers deep inside you, you had reached your limit. You came on his face, your clit throbbed, your hole started to squeeze his finger tightly, you had a firm grip on his hair, and he kept lapping up your juices. Over stimulation started to kick in and it seemed like Yunho had no plans on stopping anytime soon. You tried to push his face away, but he was stronger than you and kept going.

“Yunho! I’m gonna go crazy and wake your sister up, stop!”

He finally released your swollen nub from his lips and took his fingers out of you, he looked up at you with his face covered in your wetness, his eyes looked to pure and sincere yet the entire scene of him still having your legs spread wide was everything but pure.

“I’m sorry…I just need you so bad Y/N…”

“Then hurry up and fuck me Yuyu.”

His eyes gleamed like a kid that just got told he can open his gifts on Christmas eve and not Christmas.

“R-really? Oh my god okay let me grab a condom.” He excitedly got up and walked over to his dresser. He grabbed on condom from the top drawer, and you could swear you saw his invisible golden retriever tail wagging, he was so cute you giggled to yourself. He walked back over as he was tearing open the condom, he fully removed his boxers before getting back between your legs. He rolled the condom all the way down his length and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have too if you don’t want to.”

You reached up to cup the side of his face and smiled warmly at him.

“I want this Yuyu, please take me, I need you just as much as you need me right now.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply and inserted the tip into you. You winced as your pussy began to stretch around his dick. He kept the slower pace as you moaned into his mouth, his length just kept coming, it felt like it was never ending. Once he bottomed out in you, he stopped the kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay baby, I promise.”

He stroked into you once. Twice. Three times. Then stopped deep in you and closed his eyes tightly as he held his position inside of you.

“What’s wrong? I told you I’m okay, you can keep going.”

“I-I know but- I’m not” a rosy blush covered his high cheeks bones yet again and that’s when you put two and two together.

“Yuyu did you…did you cum?”

“…yeah”

He pulled out of you and the condom was filled with his cum, he took the condom off in embarrassment and tossed it into his bedside trash You wanted so badly to tease him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, instead you reached your arms out to invite him in for a hug and he gladly accepted it. He dropped down on your body, and you hugged him tightly, even though he just came his dick was still hard as rock.

“Are you still horny Yuyu?”

“Yea but that was my last condom.”

“So, you are a little slut huh?”

“Not now Y/N” he was still sad that he couldn’t fully experience his first-time having sex with you the way that he wanted too.

“…Are you clean?”

“Of course, what kinda question is that?”

“…well, I am too.”

“What are you saying right now Y/N?” He leaned up to make sure he was understanding exactly what you were saying, and he wasn’t just hearing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m saying…if you want to keep going without a condom…we can…I trust you.”

That was all Yunho had to hear, he leaned back down onto you, and you hugged him again, he reached down and lined himself back up into your entrance and slid his dick back into you. His ear was right by your mouth as you let out a throaty moan, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, pumping into your pussy slowly and deeply. You gripped both his shoulders and drip your nails into them.

“You feel so good inside me Yuyu it’s so deep.”

He started to pump into you deeply, his tip hitting your spot like it was a drum as he drilled into you. He groaned as the over stimulation and his soon approaching climax was rushing forward.

“I’m about to cum Y/N please cum with me.”

You dragged your nails up and down his back leaving red streaks up and down his back as he stroked deeply into you. You started to see stars; you tried your best to moan quietly but you couldn’t the feeling was too amazing. In perfect sync you two came together, you could feel the hot liquid deep inside you, thank God you were on birth control or you’d for sure be good as pregnant.

He still held you tightly and gave no signs of letting go, his dick softened inside of you.

“Yunho pull out so I can wipe up.”

“I want to stay in you forever Y/N, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he said that.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so awful to you, it’s not an excuse but you drive me so crazy, and hearing about that stupid group date my sister dragged you too pissed me off so bad. I want to be the only one taking you out, I want to be the only one seeing you like this…” He kept going, just spilling out all these feelings he had held in for years, you felt like your heart was going to explode. As he was still talking, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I like you too loser.” You kissed him again and he slid out of you, you could feel everything seeping out of you, he reached over to his bed side table and grab a few of the tissues that were in the tissue box. He carefully wiped out your overstuffed pussy and threw the tissues away. He pulled the cover over you both and brought you in too cuddle.

“Yunho, I have to sneak back into your sisters’ room before she wakes up.”

The door swung open, and your best friend stood in the door frame with dark circles under her eyes.

“Too fucking late for that, I’m glad you two worked out your feelings for each other but next time do it quietly and when I’m not fucking home.” She slammed the door as she left, and you and Yunho just laid their giggling with each other.

[blubushie]

Hi. Sorry if this sounds out of nowhere but I feel you’re the one person I can talk to about TF2 fandom shit.

I really like fem fortress. It’s important to me, and has been important for a while.

But I see a lot of people hate on it. Or say it’s dumb. Or say they won’t interact with me if I like it or participate in it. Or even say that I shouldn’t make fun and different designs because “they’re already butches”.

But I think that’s unfair because we only have, what? 4 major female characters? Pauling, Zhanna, Maggie and Admin. I just want more for myself. And I’m tired of using only men in my stories and art. But I fear if I say this, my male/masc TF2 friends won’t wanna talk to me or try and argue.

Sorry if you don’t wanna respond to this or it sounds dumb.

Sincerely, 🎃 anon.

Nah I get it, it's one of the reasons my BLU Scout is a chick. Love women, wish we had more of them. The few we've got are great and all, but they're scarce compared to the majority male characters we've got, and we defo don't see as much of them as we do the blokes.

Most the time when people don't want more female characters it's just misogyny, mate. If your friends are whinging about you bringing up FemFortress, or outright threatening to cut contact with you over it, or trying to discourage your creativity because they happen to be women, it sounds like your friends have just got some fucking personal issues they need to work out regarding women and how they see and treat them.

[lary-the-lizard]

White men realizing that maybe this capitalistic system isn’t working like they planned because they swear they’re working hard yet they are scraping by, so maybe they should change the way they view life and if they can start noticing every detail they will spot that business opportunity and absolutely destroy all competitors and everything will work out and they won’t have to deconstruct capitalism or confront their feelings. And then wonder why they’re so lonely and if they are still a good person when in order to “succeed” they had to sacrifice friendships and lose that last bit of personality that was before acceptable, and now they’re working all the time and women don’t notice them any more than they had before and yes they are making more money and can afford a cool tv and maybe they can set their hopes on game night with the boys and they won’t feel so lonely. And then a feminine person is kind to them for a single moment and it felt so good to be treated with care but women don’t actually mean love when they do that they’re actually just kind like that everyone but it felt like love for the first time in a long time and they had forgotten how good it feels to be treated with care and they know they’re thinking too much about a single interaction but since then they’ve realized that little lonely spot in their day was just the top of the iceberg and actually they are so tired and so homesick and just want someone to care but if they think too much about this everything will fall apart because that iceberg is actually the size of outer space and showing how lonely and angry and tired they are will destroy that last bit of value they have, their career, their ability to provide, their ability to stay strong no matter what. And they actually haven’t gone through anything difficult so why do they feel so empty and why do small memories hurt so much and actually they can’t remember the last time they cried in front of anyone so they’re doing a pretty good job of keeping it together. Their mom is the only person that actually cares and is allowed to be gentle with them other than a significant other so she is sooo important. She is the only person that makes them feel like they matter so someone.

And we’re all like, wtf is wrong with you, just fucking break already so we can move on. It’s not they we want them to hurt we just know that they won’t listen until they break. I think white men know this system was made for them so it has to work so if they’re not successful then THEY are the problem, the only white man to fail at the system designed to work him. And I’m not saying that we can’t hold men accountable for the travesties. I think that we need to make sure we’re okay before we try to save anyone else. But I also think that now that we’ve butchered and dissected all the problems with white men we start treating them like they can change. I think that reminding white men that they’re people and are allowed basic human decency on a personal level, not the systemic expected one, they might return to homeostasis a lot faster. My brother was a Trump supporter in 2020. Now he’s a leftist. You know what made him shift gears? Me validating his feelings and telling him that I love him. As we kept talking he slowly started leaning left left left. He was so lonely. He just wanted someone to care. When men realize that the love and care they so desperately need comes from the left, where people care because they want to and can, not because it’s traditional or expected, they shift left. When they realize that actually this leftist shit makes a lot more sense, actually all they have to do is be kind and kindness is returned, actually mistakes are forgivable if you want to do better, actually they can cry. And of course there’s the endless void of purposefully brushed off hurts they never talk about but it starting to look manageable.

Boxes don’t contain anyone. We redefine what it means to be people with every personal decision we make. It’s easier to put people into descript boxes with labels like Gay, Man, Ginger, Bisexual, but you risk forcing someone into a role they will try to fulfill in order to stay safe socially. Everyone’s experience is valid because it already happened. The words they use to describe those events don’t matter as much as their attempt at genuine connection. We can discuss the correct wording later, when the connection is strong enough to discuss labels and grammar. What matters is that someone returned to homeostasis in spite of capitalism’s passion for turning everyone into machine parts.

[krpgossipgirl]

tbh there’s a reason behind all the problematic topics brought up on this blog. rping wasn’t born out of kpop. or real celebrity ppl in general. before then, it was anime characters or OCs without “face claims”. krp grew in the early 2010s when most of us were underage, desperate for romance and had a lot of confusing hormones/emotions. ppl didn’t see idols as humans, more like tv characters (another big rp type then too). I’m sure there’s still teens that get into 18+ krps for the same reason nowadays too but you can’t tell me y’all haven’t noticed most of those rps are filled with ppl almost 30 y/o and full time jobs. the same ppl that helped create what krp is today when they were minors/teens. it’s how a lot of ppl socialized growing up. obviously we all know now it’s weird to be rping real ppl, that’s also why most can’t stand nonau rps. but idk if any of you have tried to rp in other circles (anime, book characters, etc) but it’s a different world. there’s a curated culture in krp that a lot of us have grown up with. I’d love it if the whole community decided to stop using celebrity faces one day but it ain’t happenin. so just don’t fetish, simple. stop caring so much about faces ffs they’re just an aesthetic of a muse, focus on the character a person has created.

as for m/m fetishization… I know I’m not the only trans dude that realized they were trans as a teen by that same medium. but bffr the critique is for y’all writing muses that are basically your cisgender female brain in a male’s body. you’re cis and you like men. you like men that are in touch with their emotions and more feminine than the standard until it comes to smut. you and every other chronically online straight adjacent woman. problem is the same as above, kpop was centered around the idea that idols weren’t humans and the entire structure of it is riddled with gay shipping. krp started with ppl rping their favorite ships exclusively. some of you still are fetishizing two real life ppl that are just coworkers and want to fantasize about them being more for your own emotional/sexual pleasure. some of you might not fetishize ships anymore but still get off on the idea of two men fucking bc you’re insecure about your femininity as a woman in the eyes of men. and some of you are just extra anti women lol. a pussy will not harm you. your muse is not going to be loved any less, be any less creative, or leave you with interactions if they have don’t have a dick. you will not be ignored and given less attention for rping a girl. but you will be ignored for your muses bland personality and character design that you’ve hid behind by signaling to other m/m fetishizers and popular fcs over the years.

I’m all for y’all tackling your issues through rp (trauma, dysphoria, problematic thoughts/interests, etc) but at some point we gotta sit down and say hey y’all cis women have been writing this gay shit for over a decade now, when you gonna ask yourself why? it’s not like trauma rping (for example) is unproblematic, but bro there aren’t entire rps of ppl without trauma rping out trauma-coping muses. there have been more boys only smut rps where 99.9% of muns are all cis women in the past 10 years than there have been m/s krps. come onnnnnn. why are you defending it, I’m sincerely curious. what about writing a/b/o with a straight couple is so unattractive to you?

any way, hi everyone please analyze how you view rping. bc I’m really tired of finding out my rp partner is living vicariously thru their muse, or only built their muse’s character based on what would bring them attention, or doesn’t have a creative reason behind their muse’s fc and it’s just the idol they think is the most attractive. I promise if y’all see rping as just collaborative creative writing about 2 characters that have no real pictures, you’ll find the best rping partners.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#255

This is a direct follow up to #35.

“Glad to see you make it up here ok. I’m Robert, and you are?... Eddie. Good to meet you. Did you enjoy the drive? It really is nice. That’s part of the reason why I live up here. We don’t get many clients that come up here. Most order on line, but you are the first of the season. I reviewed your e-mail again and I think I have a selection of rimchairs for you. It would help me to narrow down your selections more if you answer some additional questions….

“Here, let’s go into the workshop. So, is this going to be a chair for you? Good. Are you the ass or the ass eater? Will you ever go underneath it?... No? Ok. Don’t worry, the only time I go under mine is to work on it.... Women, men, or both?... Women. Is this part of a S&M or kink situation?... That’s fine. It’s very rare for me to find someone willing to spend all this money for the sensual aspects of eating ass. Did you bring a slave woman with you? That’s fine. Most straight men don’t….

“No, I prefer fags under mine; is that going to be an issue here? I only ask because, I want to find the best rim chair for you, and I have a wealth of expertise I rely on. I don’t want to share my experiences with you and have it be awkward.

“Good! Good! Unless we need him, the faggot is up at the main house. That reminds me, will you be using the rim chair for full toilet activities? No… you would be surprised with just how many people are. Hell, every single dominatrix I have made a rim chair for is into it. And some of those women are fucking brutal to their slaves.

“So here let’s start with these three. The left two are designed primarily for rear entry and this third one is for the front. Me personally, I prefer my slave lying behind me when he’s attending to my shithole. His tongue seems to go in deeper and at a better angle. And I don’t have to spread my legs when he’s there. That’s one of the big difference between men and women is that women are narrower than men. It gets uncomfortable at times. For me it’s just easier with it behind me. Do you have a preference?... That’s fine. They will be designed for front and rear entries, but structurally it will be designed one way.

“It’s really all about comfort. Comfort was actually that reason that got me into making rimchairs. What I saw out there was horrible. They were rimseats. To me rimseats are different than what I make. Rimseats are essentially toilet seats on legs. The faggot lies underneath, and I would squat down. I’m a big guy and I can’t sit that low for a long time, before my legs start to cramp up, about fifteen to twenty minutes at most. The problem with making the legs longer is that the faggot underneath is then straining to keep his head buried in the crack of my ass. Either it is straining to keep its tongue buried deep, or its head can move all around. Either way, the faggot tires quickly and it’s a piss poor rimjob.

“That’s why I started with the idea of transforming regular chair designs into rimchairs. I have throne-like chairs, deck chairs, reclining chairs, dining chairs, and so on. Every one has support for the toilet lying underneath, so that multiple hour-long sessions are not a problem. I can customize it to a specific head size, as well as how far in you want the slave’s face when you sit down. Or, some of the chairs allow for adjustability. I personally like feeling my faggot’s face getting wedged in there, and then to have its mouth lined up to connect with my shithole. That is priceless. No other feeling of power compares with it. If you are into slaves that are reluctant, I can make the head spaces very restrictive. I can even create a box, measured exactly to your slave’s head where they can’t move an inch. My slave tells me that it gets very claustrophobic under it. I even designed is so that the slave places its head in the box and the hinged platform lowers with a piece going below the slave’s chin preventing the slave from pulling out from underneath until you get up off the chair and let it out.

“I see you like the casual desk chair. I have one just like it at my work desk. My faggot is under that one for hours. I can be doing work, surfing the internet, or jacking off to porn. I’m not even paying attention to the tongue fucking I’m getting. It’s just adding to the general euphoria of what I’m doing.

“You have a wife, girlfriend, bitch slave, or whatever?... Oh you have an out of state friend with benefits that likes to eat ass? From what I have learned through the years, it’s hard to find a woman into it. That’s fucking awesome.

“If you really love your butthole tongued for a long time, maybe you should get a fag, until you find the right bitch. Seriously. I had one client purchase a similar seat to that one, that he had installed in his playroom. It was up against a wall. He enclosed the sides of the chair. There was a hole in the wall that the ass eater would crawl through. It was an 18 year-old faggot from down the street, and that fag tongue fucked like no other I have ever tried out, and yeah I tried it out. The most interesting thing is that they had a set time each week when they did this. The kid came in through a dedicated entrance, and the client sat down, neither of them said a word to the other. Truly amazing.

“Go on, have a seat. I’ll have it customed to your ass and thighs so that when you are sitting, your cheeks are comfortably spread. You know, those Carhartt pants are restricting your ass and legs. You’re not getting the proper placement of your ass.

“Why don’t you take them off? Other than me and shithead up in the house, no one is going to see you. I get maybe, maybe one customer a week. When we go into the design room to take measurements, I will need you to have them off. Leaving your underwear on is better than this. Briefs, no briefs. We don’t care…. Commando? We don’t care about that either.

“Look, if you think this is my way of seducing you, let me say that I like faggot boys, not real men like yourself. I get turned on when I know a man—a real hard working man—is getting his dick, ass, and everything else taken care of at the expense of faggots. I’m not talking about gay boys. I mean faggots, boys who exist to serve a real man, to take care of that man’s needs including draining his balls, eating his ass, and so on. To a faggot, draining your cock and eating your shithole is the reason for its existence, even at the expense of its own needs. So no, I wouldn’t dream of sticking my cock in you. You can count on that.

“Don’t worry about my faggot; its tiny pecker is permanently locked away. It has been that way ever since he got here last fall. You remember that first snowstorm we had? Well right before the snowfall hit its car ran out of gas, and it got stuck. At least that was its story. I made it an offer, find someone else to help in the snowstorm, or submit to me. I’ve kept it naked, with its pecker painfully locked up in that device ever since. I’ve trained it to service my shithole for hours on end. It hasn’t cum in the five months it’s been serving me.

“Let me text it to come down here…. No, it’s no problem. Go ahead and get comfortable. Take the pants off, leave them on the table. It’s best to put your work boots back on.

“That’s a beautiful cock you have. I bet the women love it. Stop the modesty thing. You are a fucking hot man, you should relish in the adoration. Have a seat. Doesn’t that feel good on your ass? You can feel the spread, but it doesn’t feel like you are falling in? Now imagine a moist tongue darting in and out of your crack.

“And speaking of a moist tongue, here’s the fag…. Faggot! This is Sir Eddie. Get under the seat and get to work….

“No more protesting. I don’t care how dirty it is. I saw your skid marks in your pants, the fag will clean you up. He lives for shit like this. Its tongue feels good in there, doesn’t it? Don’t answer, I can see it on your face. Just relax.

“I will be over there in the design shop if you need me. Try out any of the other chairs. The faggot will do whatever you want or need to feel good. You can stay as long as you like. Even over night or throughout the rest of the weekend. The fag will take care of everything for you. It’ll eat your farts, drink your piss, throat your shaft, take a beating, or whatever. Just tell it what you want, and it will comply. By the end you will understand why a faggot is better than a bitch. Make me a good enough offer, and I may throw the faggot in.”

[sugarylawliet]

May I pretty please have a nsfw Light x Fem!Reader fic where Light is horny af and tries to seduce the reader but since it’s so rare to see Light needy like that, the reader decides to use this and pretends like she’s busy etc. and drives Light crazy af which leads to angry Dom!Light sex ;)

WHEW i got outta breath just reading this req-

warnings: nsfw/smut, dom! light, degradation with slight praise, this one has more plot than usual i think

taglist: @ygm1slt

"Y/N, do you mind?"

You glanced up from the dozens of tan manilla folders you held in your hand, spread out like a hand of playing cards, each one filled with documents upon documents about the legend you and your coworkers were chasing. The stacks of papers felt like the scribblings of a child in your hand; useless to you, because you knew who Kira was already. Hidden in plain sight, he was the man who had just called your name from the front of the room where he sat, beckoning for you to come near.

You let out a long sigh under your breath, slowly placing the papers onto the desk you stood in front of. You and Light were not dating, no, in fact you could barely stand to be in the same room as the man. His aura was suffocating, despite the large and sprawling rooms of the headquarters building, you could always pinpoint just where Light was; you could feel his arrogant energy wafting off of him, making it clear who the superior one was in the room. It was asphyxiating, and his words were even worse. Everytime he called you to come closer to him, your heart skipped a beat- and though you were sure it was from disgust, you never denied any of his requests. Your love-hate relationship with him only made your interactions more intoxicating. You weren’t gonna deny yourself the excitement.

Your footsteps echo through the almost empty room as you walked towards Light, the only other people at the task force at the moment being L, Matsuda, and Soichiro, all of whom were working together on the right side of the room, their focus on L’s computer.

“What is it?” You ask as you approach Light, stopping next to him.

“I’d like to know your thoughts on this, a second opinion would be helpful.” He gestures towards his computer screen, which was packed with data you could barely read. As you attempt to decipher the text, Light places his hand on your upper thigh, gripping it horizontally. You hold back a gasp, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Light stares at you, your eyes unwavering from the screen in front of you.

“Umm, well, it’s....”

Light’s hand slides up your thigh, his fingers inching up your skirt and brushing the fabric of your panties. He moves his fingers slightly with the slowness of a lover brushing their thumb up and down your hand as you hold theirs. Your breath stutters as you found yourself craving a harder touch from the man you thought you hated.

You break your gaze from the computer screen and glance at Light- his eyebrows were turned downwards, and the image gave you an idea. You grab Light’s hand, peeling it from your leg and dropping it into his lap. “Actually, Light. I’m kind of busy with these documents right now, sorry.” You smile, walking away and returning to your spot at the other table.

You sort through the papers, your mind off of Light before you feel the vibration of your phone from the table. You check to make sure L wasn’t looking before checking your phone, opening the message notification.

Light Y.

brat.

You glance over your shoulder before typing a quick response.

                                                                                                                        Y/N

                            i’m sure i don’t know what you mean.

You place down your phone screen-first on the table and turn your ringer off, not bothering to see whatever quip Light would respond with. You catch him rolling his eyes out of the corner of your view before returning to his work. He places a hand over his mouth and throws one of his legs over the other, crossing them. You smirk to yourself.

This was a back and forth you and Light Yagami often shared ever since you joined the Japanese Task Force. Light, the esteemed man he is, never places doubt in his ability not only to seduce women, but to get what he wants, whatever that may be; in this case, it was you. You, on the other hand, prided yourself on being strong- a stubborn person with an unwavering will, someone who could out-work and out-show the men who thought they were better than you. Often you forgot the end goals of your little adventures to prove yourself better than, getting caught up in the chase of it all. You and Light’s relationship was a quite hectic blend of both of your guys’ stubborn behavioral habits, and neither of you would settle for losing.

-----------------

“Light-kun, it’s getting quite late. You two aren’t tired?” L asks, glancing at you and Light, as the three of you were the only ones remaining in the main area of task force headquarters. Everyone else had either gone home or gone to their designated rooms in the building.

“No, There’s a lot of work to be done so I’m fine with sacrificing a little sleep.” Light glances at you briefly. You knew he was expecting to be left alone with you, but you decide to push the envelope a little further. You refused to give into him; at this point, your ego and desire to not lose rivaled his.

“Actually, Ryuzaki, you’re right. I’m gonna head to bed.” You wave goodnight to the men, sending Light an innocent smile as you walk upstairs to your room. 

You made yourself comfortable in your bed, as surprisingly Light had taken several hours to come upstairs- he didn’t want to chase after you, you assumed. Though, you could see how desperate he was through his facade.

Eventually, though, the door to your room opens with a creek, as Light steps his way inside and locks it behind him.

“Oh, hi Light. Do you need something?”

“Don’t play stupid.” Light runs his fingers through his caramel hair, frustrated. He walks over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, taking your jaw in his tight grip and forcing you to look at him.

“What was that all about, huh?” He places his hand on your leg, sliding further and further upwards as he speaks. “Teasing me as if you have the right. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I don’t appreciate the bratty behavior.” His fingers return to the position they were earlier, softly brushing up and down over your clothed heat. You bite your lip, holding back a moan; you weren’t going to give into him this easily. No, this was a competition for pride, and you were determined to win.

“Actually, Light,” You push his hands away from you, standing up, “I’ve had quite a long day. I’m gonna go get some rest, maybe you should too?” You remark before leaving, shutting the door behind you and finding another room to sleep in. You were going to win.

----------------

“Are you guys coming with?”

You stand in the main hub of task force headquarters near Light, as L was on a seperate floor working and the rest of the task force was getting ready to leave for lunch.

“No, sorry, I wanna finish this work as soon as possible. But Matsuda, do you mind bringing Y/N and I something back?”

You whip your head towards him with a sour look as he volunteered you to stay with him- alone.

“Sure, text me what you want!” Matsuda exclaims cheerfully before leaving with the other detectives. 

The loud slam of the door echoing through the large half-vacant room did not draw your attention away from your work, as you were determined to remain focused.

“You know, Y/N,” Light stands up from his chair, approaching you from behind where you sat. You take in a breath, preparing yourself for the antics he was about to pull.

“You never did apologize to me.” He places his long slender hands on your shoulders from behind, slowly rubbing up and down.

“Apologize? What do I need to apologize for?”

“For being a fucking brat.”

Light abruptly grabs the sides of the chair and spins you around to face him, his nose almost poking yours and his hot breath tickling your face, flushing your cheeks red. You take the opportunity of your close proximity to lock eyes with him, slightly shaking your head no, your confidence unbreaking. 

With haste, Light knots a finger in your hair and roughly pulls you towards the nearest table, shoving you chest-first into it. He smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. “How hard is it to follow fucking instructions? God, is your ego that big?”

He creeps his hand up your legs, dipping under your skirt and pulling your panties down to pool around your ankles. He runs his fingers up your slit, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Just give into me...”

You shake your head as best you can with Light still gripping the roots of your hair and whine out a small “Nuh-uh.”

He dips two fingers inside you, curling his fingers upwords and making a beckoning motion inside of you. Quickly, he pulls his digits out, extending his hand to force you to suck on them. “Hmm, taste all that? It sure looks like you want to give into me...”

You pitifully whine around his fingers, pushing your backside to press against the bulge forming in his pants, asking for more.

“See? I knew you were needy for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth and slips them back into your cunt, pumping in and out at a steady pace before adding a third finger. You pathetically squirm under his methodical movements; he was too good at this. You try to bite back your moans to save your confidence, but soon fail as Light scissors his fingers inside of you.

“Mm, I love the sounds you make, you sound like such a slut.”

Light increases his pace and depth, curling his fingers against your walls until his fingers were no longer visible. His manipulation of your senses drew your orgasam out quicker than you expected, causing you to clench against his digits. Light, sensing this, promptly removes his fingers from you, causing you to whine.

“Light...”

“What, you think I’m gonna let you finish?” He chuckles leaning down to speak in your ear, “Just say you’re sorry, Y/N. It’s not that hard, really.”

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You pant. 

He smacks your backside again, the hand-print stinging with the frustration building up inside the man. “Don’t talk back to me, brat. You know, you’re really being difficult and I don’t appreciate it. Maybe I should just leave you here...” He removes his grip from you and begins to walk away, and you’ve never felt more alone without your arch enemy.

“No, Light...” You bite your lip as you call him, the swing to your ego panging your chest.

“Hm, what’s that?”

“Light...” You look away, feeling embarrassment bubble inside your stomach.

“You only get what you beg for, Y/N. I can’t hear you...” He walks closer to you, a smirk forming on his lips as he backs you against the table, “C’mon, pet. Beg for me to fuck you, I know you want to.” He places a soft touch on your clit, rubbing it slowly in circles.

Against everything you’ve been fighting for this whole time, against your pride, your body was aching and obeyed, “Light, Kira, I need you so badly, please, please just fuck me already.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Are you sorry?”

“Yes, yes, I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” His tone grows more stern.

“For being a brat, for teasing you, for not listening to you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just please, touch me....”

Light hums in appreciation as he unbuckles his belt, tossing it on the floor and pulling himself out of his tan pants, “Mm, that’s Kira’s good girl, I knew you’d come around.” He pumps himself a few times, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slit, pushing slightly in every now and again just to evoke a mewl from you.

A slew of “please”s and begging whines spilled from your lips like a desperate prayer as Light continued his torturous teasing.

“You’re nothing but Kira’s pet, right?”

You nod rapidly.

“And you’d do anything for me? You’re mine, mine to use how I please and dispose of? Mine to use as a fucktoy?”

You nod again without question.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” Light rewards you, finally pushing himself inside of you after what felt like an eternity. He rocks his hips to meet yours as he stretches your walls out, the moans from both of you mixing in the echoey room.

“God, Y/N, you feel so good. All this time I’ve waited...”

“Fuck, Kira,” You cry, wrapping your legs around Light’s waist, pulling him as close as possible. Your fingers curl into the hard, cold desk beneath you in an attempt to grapple with the amount of stimulation you were receiving.

His forehead came to rest on yours as he pounded into you relentlessly, “God, you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N, yeah? Nothing but a dirty fucking slut for my cock, fuck you take me so well.”

“Light, I’m gonna cum...” Your loud moans were hiccuped by the rhythm of Light rocking into you.

“Cum for me Y/N, cum all over my cock like the slut you are, make a mess so everyone knows how good I make you feel, how you’re mine and only mine to use for my pleasure.”

The harsh words that tickled your face encouraged your on-coming orgasam as you soon came around Light. He continued to thrust into you until he threw his head back with a groan, cumming inside of you.

Light pulled himself out and tucked himself back into his pants, tidying up his appearance with still labored breath. “Don’t even bother to clean up,” He head tired at the sticky liquid that was leaking down your legs and dampening the table beneath you, “Everyone knows you’re just a slut anyways, might as well let them know you’re my slut.” He winks before leaving the main room, walking off into a seperate hallway presumably to collect himself.

You stood up from the table, still panting. The fight was over, you had lost. Lost. Lost to the man who always seemed to win despite being plagued by misfortune. You huff, pulling your clothes back on and allowing the sting of losing your pride battle with Light Yagami to overpower the pain you felt in your lower half.

[audreydoeskaren]

(Rant) Chinese historical clothing and corsetry myths

Source here

*TERFs do not interact

tw misogyny, racism

Intro

Hi y’all, I wanted to make a short rant but it ended up becoming a full blown essay about clothing and the patriarchy. If you’re into this sort of stuff, buckle up and ride along. I was reading some articles both casual and scholarly on Qing Dynasty Han women’s fashion recently and it struck me as really odd that a lot of them mix in some age old myths about European corsetry for absolutely no reason. In their pathetic attempts at entry level feminist analysis, in order to prove that historical Chinese clothing was patriarchal and oppressive to women they always bring up European corsets and stays to make the argument that women in the past were oppressed no matter where they were. After I received a stupid and disturbing response to the foot binding ask regarding foot binding and corsetry, the making of this post appears much more significant.

As a feminist and European historical fashion enthusiast myself, the wildly inaccurate, sensational and sometimes pseudo-Darwinist corset myths they perpetuate make me cringe to my core. Popular fashion history bloggers like Karolina Zebrowska and Bernadette Banner have been debunking corsetry myths for some years now so anyone active in the Western historical costuming community would have been able to avoid them, but that information has largely failed to reach their Chinese counterpart. While I understand that Chinese fashion historians don’t need to know about corsets and stays, why would they bring up corsetry all the time if they don’t know fuck all about it to begin with?? It’s really unprofessional and frankly stupid.

Before we begin, I have to get this out of the way: corsetry in the West is not comparable to foot binding in China. They were completely different practices with completely different consequences for a person’s body (person because men wore corsets too). I am sick and tired of talking about foot binding so I won’t even elaborate, have a thought about it yourself.

Debunking

Ok, so moving on to the debunking. I’m gonna show passages from two pretty representative articles that pull corset myths out of their arses and show you why they’re wrong. If you’re into Western fashion history or corsetry in general, I apologize preemptively for the cringe.

The first one is called “ 18世纪中法女装造型对比研究与创新应用 ” (comparison between 18th century Chinese and French womenswear: research and innovative application) by 高夏 published in 2018. The passage on corsetry goes like this (the translation is my own)

Corsets or stays achieve structure by inserting whalebone, wood, ivory or metal, so that it can have better shaping. Usually of a v-shape, corsets or stayrs cover the chest and waist, diverging into tabs at the bottom, hugging the figure, but doesn’t interfere with the movements of the lower body; usually in the shape of a tank top, the straps are sometimes on the shoulder, sometimes of a cap sleeve design. Lifting the breasts, taking in the waist are both the most aesthetically striking features of the corset, but under this beautiful appearance, what is more terrifying is, corsets or stays cause long term compression to the torso deforming women’s ribcages, shifting their organs, pressing against the nerves and blood vessels, causing difficulty to breathe and other illnesses.

Source here

18th century stays

Jesus Christ what is going on. Also the sentence structure in this one gave me a stroke just reading it. First off, I don’t know a single 18th century person who used ivory to bone their stays I’m pretty sure nobody did that. It was acceptable to use as busks (the straight front piece inserted into the chest area), so was wood, but it sounds impossible to use them as boning. Metal boning didn’t become a widespread thing until the 19th century. Whalebone is the only correct option. Congratulations author, you made four guesses and one of them is correct. 

Second off, women’s ribcages and organs were fine, this has been debunked a thousand times. Like Karolina Zebrowska mentioned in one of her videos, if corsetry really had this much power, wouldn’t all Western women who lived through the 17th to 20th centuries have deformed ribs?? And that is obviously not true. If you don’t tight lace I don’t see how anything can be compressed, I tight lace a lot and even my organs are fine. The human waist area is naturally pretty squishy so you can lace down a lot no problem. Plus, the effects of corsetry are not permanent, whatever shifted during the day when you are wearing corsets/stays would return to their previous positions once you take them off in the evening. Even if the ribs would shift over time, I don’t see how that would cause a problem? The effects stacked over time so the changes wouldn’t noticeable to the wearer. Difficulty to breathe? It depends on the design of the specific corset/stay, some styles don’t even cover the chest, I’d be impressed if those things gave you difficulty breathing. Even for 18th century stays, which covered most of the chest, breathing shouldn’t be a problem; modern opera singers wear corsets and stays as part of their costumes as well, and they can sing in them. From personal experience, I breathe in a slightly different way when wearing corsets tightly, and the effect is barely noticeable when not tight laced.

Third off, medicine was very much not developed in the 18th century and I wouldn’t advise anyone to trust doctors at the time writing about what caused women to become sick. On top of their lack of expertise, there was also the prevalent problem of misogyny in the male dominated medical profession; male doctors liked to blame illnesses on things related to femininity such as the uterus (hysteria) and obviously, stays.

The moment the author mentioned ivory boning, all credibility was lost... It’s kind of unfortunate because the whole point of this dissertation is to compare 18th century Chinese and French women's’ fashion and the author couldn’t even get one of the most basic premises of French historical fashion correct.

One of the only legitimate health concerns for wearing corsets is that you shouldn’t be wearing them all the time, like 24 hours a day, because your muscles will get used to the support and weaken as a result. But this could be countered by taking off your corset a couple of hours everyday and doing exercise, and also not sleeping with your corset on. Also, it’s good to wear a breathable layer under corsets, like a cotton shift that can be frequently washed, so that sweat wouldn’t accumulate and cause skin problems. With that said, I’m not a scientist and I also haven’t read every single piece of literature on corsetry, if there are any other legitimate health concerns for long term wearing of corsets, please let me know!!

Onto the second one. This one is about the practice of breast binding in China since the 15th century; it starts out pretty normal and informative but as soon as the author begins to compare breast binding to corsetry it sashays off into pseudoscience.

Corsetry began in the court, rumors say that Queen Josephine of France got pregnant out of wedlock, and in order to conceal her pregnancy she used fabric to bind her torso, accidentally discovering its effects to lift up the breasts, combined with the low cut clothing popular at the time, the breasts became very visible, becoming a trend, this shows that the beauty of breasts were prized during that time period. 

I’m sorry I can’t stop laughing at this. You mean Empress Josephine? At the time she was born (1763) corsets/stays have been around for more than a century... When she was empress in the 1810s, the empire/regency style of dress was popular and it did not show the waist whatsoever, I don’t think anyone would notice if she was pregnant lmao. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did cheat on Napoleon, because cheating was super common back then, but heaven be damned if it had anything to do with corsetry. The part about short regency stays lifting and separating the breasts is legit but not for the reasons the author thinks; low necklines exposing breasts have been around in the 17th and 18th centuries as well, it’s just that during that time the boobies were pushed together, and after the waistline rose during the ancient Rome/Greece inspired directoire era, the boobies became increasingly pushed up and separated. It was just the fashion tbh, people wanted to do something different to what was done before.

Source here

Portrait of Empress Josephine (I think? It’s weirdly difficult to find a good quality legitimate portrait of her somehow) in a high waisted gown with separated boobies.

Source here

1790s short stays. They don’t cover the stomach at all?

Source here

1780s Marie Antoinette with exposed boobies pushed together. She was, obviously, wearing stays.

This is the wildest corset origin myth I’ve seen yet and it would be funny if it weren’t kind of deranged. It’s very representative of the kind of popular history (野史) floating around the Chinese internet, which takes an average historical event and embellishes it with sexual degeneracy. I can’t help but be reminded of the iconic Lu Xun quote “ 一见短袖子，立刻想到白臂膊，立刻想到全裸体，立刻想到生殖器，立刻想到性交，立刻想到杂交，立刻想到私生子。中国人的想像惟在这一层能够如此跃进。(One sees a short sleeve and immediately starts thinking of bare arms, the naked body, the genitals, sexual intercourse, cheating, bastards etc.. The imagination of Chinese people can only make such great leaps on this matter)” Why is this still true 100 years later. I mean, Chinese people are definitely not alone in this, it’s just weirdly pervasive on the Chinese internet and sometimes even academia, mostly perpetuated by gross middle aged cis straight men going through midlife crises who love to boost their fragile egos by making up shit on the internet (such as my dad)...

By the way this is the photo included in the original article, showing some suspiciously retouched lingerie photoshoots from the 1880s/90s. I shudder to think that the author would believe 1880s corsets and regency short stays are the same thing...

Source here

I love the 1880s. I love Photoshop. If you think these look freaky, don’t, it’s a real ass woman doing her thing and she doesn’t care about your opinion. Plus it’s photoshopped anyway.

Analysis

This is only the beginning of the journey. The passage goes on to cite Abba Goold Woolson, a dress reformer during the 1870s, saying that if a woman wears a corset, she suffers but is therefore able to please men and ascend the social ladder that way. I’m pretty sure the quote was taken out of context but Woolson herself also isn't the sole authority on the subject. The author buys into this bullshit wholeheartedly and comes to the conclusion that corsets were invented by the patriarchy to reduce women into sex objects. They write:

Breast binding is a sign of misogyny, stemming from the psychology of being disgusted by women’s breasts, it is a custom born out of a desire to restrain women’s natural beauty and attractiveness, the resentment for female attractiveness to men. Corsetry is a product of the patriarchal culture in the West, a product of women accentuating their figures to seduce powerful men.

This is nothing short of pseudo-Darwinist and kind of disturbing. There is so much to unpack here I might as well just move. First off, I don’t know who needs to hear this but corsets are supposed to be comfortable and not to kill you. They served a practical purpose before an aesthetic one, such as supporting the wearer’s bodies and the weight of the gowns, which in the 19th century, were some heavy gowns. Especially for bustier women, corsets provide superior bust and back support compared to modern underwire bras. If they were made with whalebone boning, spiral steel boning or cording, they were very light and flexible and wouldn’t interfere with everyday activities at all. This is the thing, the people calling for the complete abolition of corsets seemed to forget that busty women existed; if you’re flat chested you can go braless no problem, but if you have very big breasts it’s very difficult to move about without support, which corsets were supposed to provide. A lot of innovative designs with elastic panels and less boning were available in the second half of the 19th century so any woman who wanted to get one should be able to. In addition, if a woman didn’t want to wear corsets, what other options would she have at the time? Brassieres were not commonly available and the ones that did exist were worn in conjunction with corsets, elastic was only invented in the mid 19th century, being braless might be inconvenient for bustier women etc.. Corsets and stays were just normal underwear throughout their time of popularity and men wore them as well.

By the way, if you want to know how credible Abba Goold Woolson and other dress reformers were on the subject of fashion and feminism I suggest checking out the speeches they gave in the 1870s. Just to pick out a couple questionable things, she mentions that mothers with compressed torsos give birth to “inferior children” and is bad for their race, praises Thai women’s fashion but only because “barbarous tribes allow still greater freedom in their attire” and criticizes how “civilized people of the West” clad their women in impractical garments. The way she fetishizes and infantilizes the fashions of Asian countries is frankly uncomfortable to read, like she thinks white people are so special that only white women modify their bodies for fashion, and indigenous women are dumb, but at least not dumb enough to wear corsets. A lot of people involved with dress reform and the Arts and Crafts in general fetishized non-white cultures and European peasantry because of their supposed “primitiveness” and “purity” in opposition to the “degeneracy” of urban white folks. It’s a whole load of problematic Orientalist bullshit that I don’t even want to unpack. In regards to corsetry and comfort, 1870s dress reformers suggested making garments whose weight solely rested on the shoulders, which to me is quite unreasonable because anyone who has worn a heavy coat or something without a belt would know how freaking uncomfortable that is. 

Second off, I take massive issue with this notion that corsets were invented for the male gaze, like, you give men way too much credit for fashion. This is a weirdly pervasive view, people will often instantly label any fashion trend men find attractive “oppressive” and “invented for the male gaze”, neglecting the fact that 1) correlation doesn’t equal causation 2) men could find attractive/fetishize a trend after it has been popularized. Just because men find something attractive doesn’t mean it was made for them and definitely doesn’t mean that feminist women have to stop wearing it. If men decide to collectively fetishize shampoo tomorrow do you suppose women stop washing our hair as well? That’s obviously absurd, so why should it be different for corsetry. Corsets are actually a prime example of a garment fetishized well after the height of its popularity; corsets and girdles used to be functional undergarments but started to fade out of popularity in the 1960s (though never really going away) and began reappearing as counterculture/fetish wear later. Similar fates befell stockings and garterbelts. Before the 20th century, fashion was a very female dominated field, it was one of the only industries where women had a voice. During the time when stays and corsets were invented and popularized, it was women behind the trend and men did nothing but ridicule women for it. The few men who were on board the trend were often deemed effete and called homophobic insults. Literally every Western fashion trend in the 18th and 19th centuries have been satirized by men at every possible turn, it really confuses me as to why people think it was men who put women in corsets if men hated them so much? 

Source here

1770s satirical drawing of women’s fashion, exaggerating the small waist and big coiffure. Notice how the male servant is drawn “normally”. I actually think this sort of satire is insanely misogynistic, maybe that’s a hot take. It stems from men’s belief that fashion, a then mostly feminine pastime, is “frivolous” and nothing of importance, and women who chase after fashion trends are stupid and vain and don’t know better. Excuse your mouth, fashion is a noble pursuit, without fashion human existence would be so boring. It’s not women’s problem that menswear stopped being interesting in the 1840s. I’m going to play the Miranda Priestly monologue on loop now I need to recover.

Also, the author completely neglects the fact that some women liked wearing corsets and even tight lacing because they enjoyed having the fashionable silhouette. The notion that corsets and stays were worn to create a specific, nuanced silhouette rather than to simply make the waist smaller or the boobs bigger is almost unknown to Chinese fashion historians (and a lot of people in the West as well). For example, 18th century stays create a very conical shape, 1890s corsets make the body a rounded hourglass and 1920s girdles flatten the chest. They just, uh, cannot entertain the possibility that corsets and stays were fashion trends and not some tool of patriarchal oppression with deeper, philosophical meaning. It has the same energy as Jordan Peterson claiming that women wear red lipstick to imitate sexual arousal, completely forgetting that some people wear blue or black lipstick; what are they imitating then, poisoned corpses? Sheesh why is it so hard to admit that fashion is for fun and art not just sex.

Source here

The “pigeon breast” shape created by early Edwardian corsets and padding, I think these look cool as hell. 1901 issue of De Gracieuse.

This ties into the bigger problem in the research of Chinese fashion history, which is that scholars love to read deeper meanings into places where there likely is non, while being severely lacking in factual description of fashion trends. Like, I just want to know what common embroidery patterns were used in the 18th century and instead I got lectured on how traditional Chinese patterns were a service to the gods and among the most sacred and important accomplishments of my people and race (yes a lot of Chinese fashion history articles are very völkisch I hate it here).

I really appreciate the Western spirit of experimenting with and pushing the boundaries of the shape of the human body, the idea that you can modify your body temporarily with structured garments to achieve a certain look. It’s so cool and should be accepted/encouraged as long as it doesn’t have permanent health risks (like foot binding did). To some extent you can argue that this was the same spirit that drove Chinese women to bind their breasts, because form fitting tailoring techniques were not available in China (or at least not popular) so women changed their natural bodies to fit their clothes. And to me, personally, it makes sense, because I’ve tried wearing Ming Dynasty robes with a full, modern bra and it really doesn’t look neat with the protrusions. 

Source here

1520s portrait. By flattening the chest, the clothes fit better.

Conclusion & personal two cents

In my opinion, it was not corsets, stays, breast binders or any trend/garment that was patriarchal but the fact that women were forced to adopt them in order to be considered respectable; it’s the lack of choice and bodily autonomy. Men in power used these garments/trends as tools to police women’s self expression but it was never about the garment to begin with. For example, if you were a Victorian lady who loved to tight lace and wear form fitting, extravagant gowns, you were likely to get slut shamed and called frivolous or immoral, but if you were a fan of the Arts and Crafts and wanted to wear a loose, Pre-Raphaelite inspired reform dress without a corset, guess what, you were still gonna get slut shamed and called immoral. You just cannot win. The only way for a Victorian woman to narrowly avoid slut shaming is to wear a corset just about the right tightness, but also she had to wear outer clothes that are beautiful yet at the same time not flashy or drawing attention to her. That is such a difficult game to play and the rules are not fair, so why don’t we ditch this game altogether and dress however the fuck we want? It, has, nothing, to, do, with, corsets, but everything to do with the acceptable level of femininity and women having agency. People bash women who tight lace or waist train for being stupid and stuck in the past, then turn around and demonize women who choose to present more gender neutral/masculine. Any voluntary deviation from the norm needs to be punished from the patriarchy’s perspective, whether it is in the more feminine or masculine direction, because it is a sign of agency and rebellion against patriarchal assumptions about gender. In my opinion, we need to be careful not to pit women against each other, the braless/not corset wearing “not like other girls” girl against the tight lacing girly girl. We women (and other non cishet men people) need to stick together. Some feminists wear corsets, some feminists tight lace, some feminists wear bras, some feminists don’t wear bras; the agenda is not to police clothing, but to come for the patriarchy’s arse.

Circling back to Chinese fashion history as well, from my personal experience I’ve noticed the strangest phenomenon: the people who call feminine women’s fashion frivolous or unnecessary also tend to be the ones who dunk on 1960s/70s mainland China for not having fashion?? Like, they want people of all genders to only wear practical clothing and ban modification of their bodies with corsetry, makeup, plastic surgery or other such “frivolous” practices, so theoretically mainland China during the Cultural Revolution should be a utopia in their minds, yet they’re somehow suddenly not ok with it and call it authoritarian?? I feel like deep down they still know that fashion is fun and necessary for human entertainment but they could only accept it on their terms, i.e. when women are doing fashion in a way that doesn’t step out of line and show their bodily autonomy. During the Cold War and even still nowadays, mainland Chinese women in the 1960s and 70s get shit for being “too plain” or “not attractive enough”, often with some racism and irrational anti-communist sentiments mixed in, in contrast to women in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Macau and other areas who dressed feminine and were praised for their “oriental” beauty and submissiveness. Both takes are problematic as fuck, and it’s almost as if it had nothing to do with what the women were wearing to begin with, but rather some people’s need to pit women against each other and police the way women dress for their own benefit.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. :))) Here is a final photo dump showing the wonders of fashion made possible by corsetry, enjoy.

Source here

Source here

Source here

Source here

Source here

Source here

Source here

[sserpente]

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the thing—I don’t normally write sub!Loki at all. However, since Christmas is a time of gifting and making wishes come true and it has been requested quite a few times in the past, I decided to take on an anon request. I can’t write fully-fledged sub!Loki, I just can’t… so I hope this will do! There’s another anon request in there too. I hope you all enjoy it!

Words: 2357 Warnings: sub!Loki-ish, fluff, smut

Additional NSFW warnings: light bondage, oral, usage of anal sex toy

-

You cursed when you stubbed your toe on the door, shutting it aggressively all the while flinging your bag into the corner like it was the reason for all of your problems. You were trembling, anger and exhaustion gnawing at your guts.

When you let out a desperate sigh as you kicked off your winter boots, Loki tilted his head. He had appeared in the threshold leading to the living room on your floor—an entire floor on Stark Tower, all to yourself. Today, however, this very circumstance did not cheer you up in the slightest.

“A good evening to you too, pet.” He said, eyeing you with curiosity.

“I bloody hate working in retail!” You spat in response. “Why are people being so idiotic, can you tell me that? Oh, I want a refund on this obviously used item which I don’t even have the receipt for, oh, can’t you hurry up I need to catch a train—I had hours to spend on browsing but I want to pay for this immediately or I’m just gonna leave, oh, can you recommend a gift for my niece, I barely know her or her interests but surely you’ll find a gift for her because I am too lazy to use my own brain?” You were fuming. Loki chuckled.

“My dear… breathe.” He was never this gentle with any of the other Avengers but then again, you were the only one he had taken a romantic and sexual interest in. You sighed when he approached you to pull you into a tight embrace, forcing you to calm down for him. Your hands wrapped around his middle almost automatically, allowing him to lift you off the ground and carry you into your bedroom.

Loki spent most of his time in your flat here in Stark Tower. Here, he wasn’t always under suspicion of plotting world domination again—and in fact, all he did was reading, stealing your sweets and learning more about Midgardian culture, first and foremost Christmas. Last week, you had forced him through all Santa Clause films and he had actually ended up enjoying them in the end.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your face against his chest, letting his hand stroke over your head. Perhaps you should finally let the cat out of the bag and tell the others about your relationship. Loki could be so sweet… and he loved being pampered by you, even if you made sure to take your time teasing him thoroughly first.

“Is there a particular reason you left me a gift this morning?” He changed the topic. Oh yes. You had almost forgotten about this. You had shoved part of Loki’s Christmas gift into his green and gold socket above your bed before you had left this morning. It was Christmas Eve and since you would be spending the 25th with the other Avengers, you had decided that him receiving part of his gift in private would be more appropriate.

“Me?” You asked, playing innocent. “That must have been Santa, Lokes.”

“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is?” He probed. You giggled, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask. Where did you put it?” Loki conjured it up seemingly out of thin air—you’d never grow tired of seeing him use his seidr—and handed you a black plastic packaging which contained an equally black butt plug with a prostate massager for men. Loki and you had recently had a conversation about toys for men as opposed to women only and much to your surprise, he had shown quite the interest in the topic. The faces of the Avengers would have been priceless, had you put it under the Christmas tree for him along with his main present.

You grinned. “Lie down on the bed for me—and magic your clothes off, will you?” Loki smiled at your request. He did not often let you command him around like that—but when he did he knew you needed it, to have some fun with his arousal for you to distract yourself from work and other sorrows, much like today. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood on Christmas Eve, after all.

Still smiling gently, he did as he was told and then slightly raised his eyebrows for you to make the next move. You winked at him after admiring his semi-hard cock for a bit, disappearing in the bathroom. Once you had returned, hands washed, clothes changed and sex toy sanitised properly, you got to work. Loki’s eyebrows shot up all the way when you produced the bondage rope you kept in the drawer right next to the bed and then climbed on the bed as well, straddling his strong thighs.

“Please? Let me play.” You pouted. Loki sighed—allowing you to tie his hands together and then to the bedpost. Both of you were very well aware that he could rip himself free at any time—it was more a matter of it looking pretty and downright hot to have the God of Mischief tied up and at your mercy, at least hypothetically.

He shifted on the mattress just a little when you reached for the toy again which you had already coated in a thick layer of strawberry lube and brought it to his anus. It was designed to directly stimulate his prostate and you positively couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“What are you doing?” His question was a warning; reminding you it was a privilege he was playing submissive for you and that the… situation could change at any moment. You swallowed, your own arousal pooling in your knickers like a waterfall.

“Trust me? It will feel good, I promise.”

Loki sighed once more—and gasped when you slowly and carefully worked the butt plug inside of his rear. His cock twitched, joyful anticipation mixing with impatience. By the time it was snugly in place, he was as hard as rock and moaned upon you wrapping your hand around him, giving him a few strokes with your hands partially still covered in the strawberry lube you had used.

Loki bucked his hips almost immediately, growling when you drew your hand away again. You chuckled. “You look pretty adorable like that, you know… desperate for pleasure…”

He growled in response. “You will be the one desperate for pleasure and begging me for my touch if you keep this up for long.” He threatened. Your giggle intensified. You felt so much better already.

“Just you wait.” You said, pressing the button of the small bullet vibrator inserted into the butt plug. Loki tensed up when it hummed to life, sending continuous vibrations through his anus and stimulating his prostate.

Then, taking mercy on him, your hand returned to his impressive length, jerking and pleading for attention. A few drops of precum had already formed on his red tip—it was too tempting to ignore. Unceremoniously, you bent down and closed your lips around him, licking over his slit and lapping up all he had to give for now.

Loki tugged at his restraints. A little more strength and he’d tear them apart altogether and he was barely just containing himself anymore already. Knowing he could stop this anytime and pin you down underneath him to just take what he desired for some reason only fuelled his arousal. He bucked his hips in an attempt to plunge himself deeper into your mouth but you were being particularly relentless today. He growled once more, watching how a grin formed on your lips. With a smacking sound, you released him again, continuing to stroke him all the while the prostate massager kept vibrating inside of his rear.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, almost timidly. Loki was an experienced lover, you knew this much. How many Asgardian women had had the pleasure to learn what had earned him the nickname silver tongue you did not want to know and yet, even though his confidence in bed and knowledge of pleasing a woman was exciting, at the very same time it intimidated you.

Loki nodded, blue eyes locked with yours. “Yes. Keep going, my dear.” It almost sounded like an order—one you’d do better not to defy. You took it as an invitation and pressed the button of the vibrator again.

The setting was on high now—but not high enough to tip him over the edge just yet. You needed to hear him whimper first. You had managed once, a few weeks back when Loki had allowed you to tie him up and tease him for a while for the very first time. In the end, it had resulted in him flipping you around and fucking you roughly from behind so hard you had been unable to walk the next day. Your cunt clenched upon remembering how deliciously sore you had felt. It was a risk you were willing to take again.

Loki bucked his hips once more, thrusting up in a steadier rhythm now and desperate for more friction… which gave you another idea. Biting your lower lip, you stood from the bed and peeled off the comfy trousers you had changed into, right along with your underwear. If only Loki could see the wet spot on them as you stepped out of them, he would be grinning like a cat who got the cream but fortunately for you, you were in charge tonight—or at least, for now.

He eyed you like a hungry wolf, growling in an animalistic manner as soon as your slick pussy lips rubbed against his tip and you massaged your clit with it for a while before slowly, painfully slow, sinking down on him and sheathing his cock deep inside of you. You moaned, throwing your head back. Riding him always felt so much deeper than when he was on top… unless he hauled your legs over his shoulders that was.

“More…” He choked out, his blue gaze getting almost feverish, about to turn him into a mindless beast. You stilled, not moving an inch and just kept him inside of you all the while the vibrator in his rear kept stimulating him. He gritted his teeth when you failed to move, bucking up his hips in a desperate attempt to get you to ride him but you decided to take your time. Leaning forward, you began covering his chest and neck in light kisses, tongue darting out every now and then to taste him. Loki was already sweating, his limbs shaking and you knew then just how badly he needed his release. The restraints keeping his hands above his head on the bedpost gave a suspicious tearing sound as he thrust up into you once more.

He was close. He was so close. Smiling, you kissed him and moved back up and into a sitting position. Your fingers found the switch of the vibrator, turning the setting even higher. There was no need for you to move and ride him anymore. Loki came by himself and finally, gave you the whimper you had so desired to hear from him. Your lips parted when he starting twitching inside of you, spilling himself with a groan. His warm seed coated your walls, his cock jerking until he was all but spent. Once he had caught his breath, you turned off the vibrator… for now.

“Get that lovely quim of yours up here.” He ordered with a hoarse voice, once more raising the question whether you had ever truly been in charge of his pleasure. But who were you to defy him? Biting your lower lip, you let him slide out of you, whimpering at the loss of feeling so deliciously full, inched forward until your most private parts were only inches from his mouth and then carefully sat again, your thighs to either side of his head.

Loki wasted no time. Humming contently, he licked over your slit and clit, suckling on your outer lips and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue pressing against it, massaging it, until you dug your fingers into his raven hair, urging him on. You were so incredibly wet for him it wouldn’t take you long to gush all over him either and so you did. Loki ate you out like you were his last meal, pampering your clit until your body couldn’t take it anymore and you fell, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure pleasure. You only realised once you lifted yourself off his face because he would not stop that he had wrapped his fingers around the bars of the top of the bed. The bondage rope was torn apart beyond repair.

You smiled, allowing him you wrap you in his arms as he flipped you both around so you came to lie on the bed more comfortably.

“Feeling more relaxed now, my dear?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Much better. Thank you.” Loki hummed in response. “I’m pretty hungry… how about an early Christmas dinner? Just the two of us, without the others.”

“That sounds promising. But first I will need you to get that thing out of me.” He said, eliciting a devilish grin from you.

“I think I’m gonna leave that thing where it is for now. You’ll get a taste of your own medicine. Remember that golden butt plug you made me wear on Christmas last year? Revenge is sweet. So…” You paused. “Are you going to help me cook?”

Loki’s expression darkened, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. “You are going to remove that right now.”

“Nope,” you announced smugly, freeing yourself from his embrace and climbing off the mattress. “I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Truth be told, you never made it to the kitchen. Loki was after you in a matter of seconds, dragged you back into bed and made sure you came to regret teasing him like that. Oh, and you most definitely lost count after at least five more orgasms.

-

A/N: There’s a hint in there for another smutty Loki Christmas Imagine soon to come. Can you find it? ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥ 

[yoonpobs]

things change | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: FLUFFFFFF, established relationship

words: 3, 377

summary: when you're an unlikely pair but it works

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t with her?” Yoongi slurs, his alcohol breath apparent enough for Hoseok to scrunch in his direction.

Hoseok knew, though. What he meant. Drunk Yoongi got sentimental and curious, two perceptions that were dangerous independently and possibly collateral together.

“I don’t.” Hoseok shrugs.

Because being with you was the best thing that’s happened to him and he would be a crazy man to ever put himself through the angst of imagining a world that he was Jung Hoseok without you by his side. It was cheesy and he was sure if he said it to your face you’d groan and shove him by the shoulder. But he’s always been observant and he’d be the first to see the way your eyes soften in a way that no one else can notice but him.

“I do.” Yoongi snorts.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He’s careful with his words because Yoongi was no snitch, even if he was absolutely wasted. But Hoseok can’t say his interest isn’t piqued. Especially when he surrendered himself to the DD (designated driver) of the group.

“It’s just”—Yoongi sighs, sitting up and his drink sloshes in his cup when he places it onto the table—“I’ve said this before and you’ve probably heard this a thousand times but the two of you are so different.”

Hoseok remains silent but doesn’t do anything to give away the thoughts floating through his mind. He was half-expecting the same words to leave his friend's mouth, but having it be confirmed only makes Hoseok internalise his sighs.

“Yeah. You and every person who’s seen the two of us together.” Hoseok grunts.

“Look. I know you hate it when people point it out.” Yoongi says. “And I’m not here to tell you what you already know and on a fundamental level, we both know that the birds of a feather flock together bullshit is redundant and unrealistic. It’s just that every time I see the two of you together—it works. And it’s bewildering maybe because I can’t ever imagine _____ letting you win an argument.”

Hoseok blinks. “She doesn’t.”

Yoongi snickers, throwing the last bit of his drink down his throat before leaning back into the plush booth of the club they were at.

When Jin suggested throwing a bachelor party at one of the hottest nightclubs in Seoul, Yoongi and Hoseok almost ditched purely because the two of them had girlfriends and they didn’t really want to hear the end of the story if a stripper suddenly thought they were free game for the night.

Frankly, Yoongi’s girl was far more possessive but she was sweet. She just didn’t like it when people were actively trying to sleep with her boyfriend.

You, on the other hand, were simply unbothered. It wasn’t because you didn’t care—because you did. Hoseok knew that even if you’d roll your eyes at him when he’d joke about going to a strip club with the boys. But you weren’t insecure, and that wasn’t to say that women who were outwardly concerned were. You were just assured, and you made an effort to let Hoseok know that he needed you as much as you needed him—so anything he did wouldn’t just hurt you, but him too.

“It’s just that you’re basically the most cheerful dude I know and I don’t think I’ve seen you ever frown at anyone. Even the barista who fucked up our order four times.” Yoongi recalls. “Then there’s ____ who’s resting face literally is a big fuck you to anyone who breathes in her direction.”

Hoseok snorts, sipping his virgin cocktail. Even if he wasn’t the DD, he couldn’t do alcohol so the minty flavour of his drink was a night refresher for a tiring night (though he spent it just moping in his seat while the rest of his single friends partied away).

“I get mad too.” Hoseok shrugs.

“Yeah. Barely. Even then—you’re the most diplomatic person I know and you have a way of talking to people to get your point across without making them fear for their lives the next morning.” Yoongi deadpans.

“And sometimes diplomacy isn’t necessary.” Hoseok retorts.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m not shitting on your girlfriend. You don’t need to play social justice warrior here.”

Hoseok sighs before leaning back, mirroring the man spread Yoongi was in while he ponders his next set of words carefully.

Yoongi was probably one of the most chill people Hoseok knows, and maybe that was why they got along so well. Yoongi was a take-no-shit kind of man who was truly sensitive under all the intimidating layers he showed the world. Hoseok was just nice, but he was no pushover. It was a good balance that came out when necessary.

So Hoseok didn’t want to rub Yoongi the wrong way and tell him to stop talking about petty differences between him and you but also wanted to satiate the curiousity that lingers in his eyes.

“I know,” Hoseok says. A girl nearly topples into their booth but Hoseok spots his younger friend Taehyung grabbing her by the waist and shooting the two men a sleazy wink before he stalks off with her in his arms. Yoongi rolls his eyes but Hoseok can’t even be bothered.

“I mean,” Yoongi drawls. “Based on what you told me I know that the two of you don’t even want the same things in the future. And again—not saying there’s anything wrong with that—but didn’t you want kids for the longest time?”

Hoseok nods his head, deciding against his words.

Yoongi clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, nodding slowly as if he was processing Hoseok’s words.

“How did that … do you still want kids?”

“I want what _____ wants.”

Yoongi groans. “You sound like a total pushover.”

Hoseok levels a strict stare onto his friend, and even if Yoongi was older—there was something about a man who never got angry shooting him an intense stare that could make Yoongi zip his mouth.

“And kids aren’t endgame to a relationship. I love her, and yeah—I want kids. But she’s important to me and she’s here now. There isn’t a reason for me to condemn her or push her for a future that doesn’t exist yet. She’s the one carrying the baby for nine months and it’s her decision whether or not we have kids. Whether or not a kid comes along doesn’t matter to me because I’m with her because I love her and not because of a kid that isn’t real.”

Yoongi blinks. Then he huffs a breath out before letting out a low chuckle.

“Wow.”

“I know you don’t mean any harm but I don’t need to explain to anyone why _____ and I work so well together. But because you’re my best friend and you get oddly sentimental when you’re drunk I’ll spell it out for you and you better hope you’re sober enough to remember this tomorrow because I won’t repeat it again.” Hoseok says firmly.

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the serious tone Hoseok shifted to and observes the way Hoseok looks stern yet … soft, all at the same time.

“_____ is tough. In more ways than her exterior. She knows what she wants and what she’s ready for. And it was a goddamn miracle that she decided that what she wants and what she’s ready for was me. Yeah, she’s terrifying but she’s human—her heart is still pure and she’s a kind woman—person. Sure she’s systematic and needs an answer for everything but I’m her boyfriend and I’ll make sure that I can give her all the answer she needs to feel safe in this relationship. And yeah—we may not want the same things. She doesn’t want to get married but I do. But marriage isn’t endgame to me. She is. She wanted to move in together but I was iffy about it. So we live apart. That doesn’t change the nature of our love and she still loves me even if all I do is annoy her. So yeah. I’m willing to compromise and so is she. We’re different but we’re together.”

Hoseok is still calm as ever and there’s even a hint of a small smile on his face. The fact he’s smiling only testifies to the fact that you and Hoseok were so different from each other.

Yoongi is stunned to silence and sure he’s a quiet man but he usually had things to say, opinions to add. But Hoseok’s proclamation of your love only makes him sit in silence, letting the words dissipate in the atmosphere but remain in his conscience.

“Wow,” Yoongi repeats his words from earlier, but it’s all he can muster up.

Hoseok offers his friend a kind smile, sipping the rest of his drink while his friend can only stare at his nonchalant demeanour.

“And if you still don’t see it.” Hoseok grins. “There’s a reason why you don’t. I’m the only one that gets to fall in love with her like this.”

Yoongi whistles lowly before rolling his eyes. “No need to get possessive.”

“I’m a man in love. Sue me.” Hoseok shrugs with a slight smirk.

Yoongi gags at the cheesiness even if he finds himself internally grinning at his best friends blatant love for his girlfriend. He was sure it was the alcohol that was making him mushy—or perhaps Hoseok has always looked the way he did when he spoke about you. Eyes bright under dark lights and the heart-shaped smile of his becoming wider.

“If it counts for anything …” Yoongi trails off, offering a lazy smile to Hoseok. “I really hope she does marry you.”

Hoseok scoffs at Yoongi’s blatant optimism. Sure, he wanted that. He wanted nothing more than to see you in white, smiling only at him—or even with your usual stoic face—he doesn’t care. But he knew that the event itself would never change the fact that he wanted to be with you, now and forever. If fate wills, he’d marry you in a heartbeat. But Hoseok was content—and more importantly, he was in love.

“It doesn’t. But thanks.”

extra scene

“Hi, my love and my absolute sunshine.” Hoseok coos the next morning, and that’s the first thing he says when you open the door to your apartment; eyes already rolling to the back of your head.

“Did you do anything to piss me off?” You ask dryly.

Hoseok snickers, but pulls you in by your shoulders to give you a wet smooch to your lips that has you whining. You don’t push him away because you knew it was just the two of you and possibly one of your snooping neighbours.

“As you love to remind me during arguments—my existence is enough to do that, no?”

You nod your head, patting him gently on the cheek as you offer a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you’re on the road to self-actualisation.”

Your boyfriend snorts, stepping into your apartment as he makes sure to leave his shoes on the shoe rack instead of idly laying on the floor because you were anal about things like that. And he missed you so he didn’t want you shooting him death stares just yet.

“You keep me on my feet.” Hoseok flirts, tone a little sleazy and you can’t help but sigh at your boyfriend's antics even though a hint of a smile marks your face.

When Hoseok settles into your couch, he immediately spots a wrapper that looked like it went into gift boxes—a pretty shade of green, which was his favourite colour. He immediately leans forward and eyes it with furrowed brows before looking up at you.

“My pretty baby got me a gift?” He wiggles said brows as you scoff at him, plopping into the seat next to him as you lean into his embrace.

“See for yourself.” You shrug, face still remaining blank.

Hoseok chuckles, already expecting your reaction even though everything about the placement of the wrapper to the strategic colour scheme of it screamed a gift for Hoseok. He knew you still got flustered when you did nice things for him, even if he’d argue that was on a daily basis because you were just a loud lover in a way that let your actions speak for your affection.

He wants to coddle you further, snuggle you so hard that you’d whine and attempt to shove him away until you decide that you secretly love it and hold him tight. He was so in love. But he placates the shift of your knee in a way he knew was due to your patience wearing thin.

So, he picks up the wrapper and realised that it was much lighter than he’d expected; and lacked the density of a usual present. It almost seemed like you were pulling a prank on him for no apparent reason. But Hoseok trusted you and knew that you weren’t the type to pull shit like that because you just had better things to do.

He unravels each crevice, eyes still searching for the gift that somehow never comes—all until he finally settles on a stick that he vaguely recognises from pharmacies that he never thought would be in his hands, staring up at him with two straight lines.

The silence is loud, but Hoseok is stunned. His mouth falls agape as he cradles the pregnancy test in his palm, eyes not bothering to look at your nervous expression. One that rarely comes from you just because you were an assured person in general and seldom needed validation from others.

But you loved Hoseok and you knew deep down that he’d always have an effect on you, words or actions—presence or not.

“Hobi?” You call softly, voice nervous as you fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he blankly stares at the test.

You’re terrified you made a mistake—or if he’s changed his mind because of your pessimism on the idea of having children. Sometimes you wonder how Hoseok could love you, all edges and harsh lines when you spoke. A woman who was either black and white or purely a grey area. Hoseok was the rainbow on dark days and brightened any environment.

You can’t read Hoseok’s face, and it scares you. Because you usually can since he was an open book. So when he finally turns to you, and you finally get a proper glimpse of his expression—

First, you see tears.

“I-Is this …?” He chokes.

Your eyes widen, immediately reaching out to cradle his cheeks as an involuntary reaction.

“Why are you crying?” You feel yourself tearing up and you try to suppress it. There was something about you being so connected to Hoseok and his feelings that made everything he felt translate to your own conscience.

“Y-You—I-I—you’re pregnant?” He whispers, eyes returning to the stick.

You nod your head slowly. “I am.”

Hoseok nibbles on his lips and you wait patiently for his next response. You can more or less guess that he’s happy yet confused, the conversation of potentially having kids never really showing any progress. But he’s been patient and so loving—and you thought you’d never shake but here you were.

The next thing you know, Hoseok is wrapping his arms around you so tightly that it hurts as you try to gasp for air. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck in a way that makes all your edges turn round, and your heart melt from the stone wall it was into a flurry of emotions that only he can bring out of you.

“We’re going to have a baby?” He asks softly, pulling away to clasp his palms around your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“We are.” You reply, equally as soft; eyes and tone. “You’re going to be a father, Hobi.”

And somehow, that breaks him. He can’t stop the tears nor can you. So you allow him to cry, and you allow yourself to feel too; holding each other close as you feel his hand reach out for your stomach. And you can’t deny the butterflies that erupt.

When he manages to regain his composure, wiping at his eyes; he looks at you so earnestly and gives you a wide smile that drew you in from the moment you met, and grown to love.

“You really want this?” He asks, eyes concerned but tone irrevocably gentle. You knew he wasn’t doubting your choices, but respecting them.

You nod your head.

“For the longest time … I thought kids weren’t for me. That I wouldn’t be a good mother because of how I am.” You tell him, and you see Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow and you know he’s thinking about denying that. But Hoseok has never been the type to interrupt you while talking. “And maybe I won’t be, maybe I will. But having you here with me just reassures me to know that our baby will have the greatest, most loving and most patient father out there.”

Hoseok’s eyes soften, knowing how big of a decision this must’ve been for you.

“I love you.” He whispers when he leans in to give you a slow kiss on your lips, one that wasn’t leading anywhere but was nice enough to feel the emotions pouring through.

You don’t say it back, but you look at him with gentle eyes that only he can recognise—and he knows. He knows your heart like you know his.

“You’ve compromised a lot of things for me, and I know I’m particular about many things. I have a plan ten years down the road of where I’d like to be in my life—and I never thought I’d be planning with a kid in mind.” You chuckle softly, and Hoseok pulls you closer so that you’re resting your head against his chest. “But you make me want to do things I’ve never done. And I really—I really want this baby. I want him or her to grow up thinking about how badass their parents were even though their mom is a total bitch and their dad is the mediator of the family.”

Hoseok snorts, brushing his hands through your hair.

“How long?” He asks.

You grin against his t-shirt, not looking up when you fiddle with the fabric of it.

“I’ve been feeling symptoms for a month now, and the test was from a week ago. I went to the doctor to be sure because I knew from the moment I suspected it that I wanted it to be true, for you, for me—for us.”

Hoseok tilts your chin up, offering you the smile you love so much and you feel so … happy.

“Next thing you know I’ll have you walking down the aisle.” Hoseok sighs, happy and content.

You roll your eyes, narrowing it at him as you push on his chest to sit up.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jung.”

Hoseok wraps his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you close to meet your lips again.

“Let a man dream.” He grins against the kiss.

He can feel your giggle and the way you do the thing that you do when you’re secretly ruffled but adore him way too much to pull away.

“You know this means we have to move in together, right?” You murmur against his lips.

Hoseok snorts. “Duh. But you know you already have a home in my heart, right?”

You expected it, but it doesn’t make it any less cheesy when you groan and shove at his chest. Hoseok cackles, fully loving the way you scrunch your eyebrows in distaste at him.

“I hate you.” You scowl.

“No, you don’t.” Hoseok sings, resting his head against your shoulder while he looks up at you with innocent eyes.

You’re happy, and so is he.

And a few months down the road, Hoseok drops a ring into your palm, no words or expectations. You roll your eyes, as usual; but you slip it onto your ring-ringer anyways.

[3stepsfromthegrave]

So I watched Blood of Zeus

Art? Fucking amazing

Animation? Top notch

Character designs? so fUCKING good

Story? ***A S S*** (in my opinion), god it was *terrible*, like, I wanted to like it, but holy fuck

I’m mostly mad about the characterization of Hera. Uh... Zeus just continues to fuck her over, talk down to her, roll his eyes when she expresses her concerns, belittle her power, basically gaslight her, threaten her, and sleep around while she tries to defend him and she just finally reached her breaking point? Honestly? Good for her, she snapped and she snapped hard and frankly I’m surprised it took that long. Am I not supposed to sympathize with her? I sympathize with her more then Black and Red Angy Boy (unpopular opinion). She had every right to be pissed off and hurt. 

I could go on an entire tirade about how this studio also made Castlevania and the only women in power in their shows are also evil and shown that power makes them evil and wanting to break free of men demonizes them but I *won’t go on about that here*. All I will say is, if you want to write a female villain, please stop using the same tired trope of “angry woman is evil because she doesn’t want to put up with the men around her’s shit”. 

(The amount of cinematic parallels between Hera and Carmilla I could make... and it’s a lot of similar gripes I have about both of them. I think the studio really needs to re-eval some of their writing. How come only the male antagonists are supposed to be sympathetic?)

Anyways, Blood of Zeus? Disappointing overall, but the art *is* really good. It’s a shame the story and characterizations didn’t live up to the hype. Also, I’d love to finally see a greco-mythos inspired media that DIDN’T demonize Hera. Like, is that too much to ask?

[luxekook]

stay in your lane | jjk

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇥ genre:  e2l / college au / smut / fluff / crack ⇥ summary: in which the reader is the captain of the women’s swim team and jungkook is the “golden freshman” of the men’s swim team... OR in which jungkook is overtly whipped for the reader and acts out in any way possible to gain her love and attention - no matter the consequence. ⇥ word count: 5.8k ⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, Vine references, dirty talk, sub!jk, dom!reader, jungkook being the biggest brat, swimming lingo, college athlete party, drinking, body shots, noona kink™, smut (edging/orgasm denial, face sitting, oral [m + f receiving], unprotected sex [wrap it, plz], spitting, cum eating [i am sorry skksks])

In all your twenty-two years of living, you never encountered anyone as openly cocky as Jeon Jungkook. You stared in disbelief as the boy posed and preened from his lane of the pool, throwing his fist in the air and flexing his muscles.

“He is such a hoe for attention,” Your teammate Lina said, shaking her head next to you and reluctantly clapping along with the crowd gathered for the Regional Swimming and Diving Championships.

You nodded in agreement, plastering a fake smile on your face as you forced your hands to clap. As the captain of your college’s women’s swim team, you had to keep up appearances after all. You cheered for everyone - regardless of how infuriating they might be.

When you were appointed as captain this past fall, you were fucking thrilled.

Leadership came naturally to you, and it always felt good when it was recognized by others. For you, being a leader meant being a bad bitch - powerful, fearless, intimidated by no one.

And a bad bitch you were. You liked to quietly dominate in pretty much all facets of your life. You aced your studies, you broke records, you fucked hard.

But this year, your fucking senior year, you were consistently being pressed, your dominance constantly being questioned, your restraint wearing thin.

And it was all Jungkook’s fault.

It all started at the beginning of the swim season... You had been talking to Kim Seokjin - the captain of the men’s team - before the very first practice. You had been glad the fellow senior was chosen, not only because he was a solid swimmer, but because he was supportive and such a laugh.

The two of you had been going over your competition schedules when a boy you hadn’t seen before had bounded up to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung! There you are. I thought I was running late, but it turns out I’m just really early.” You had blinked at the energetic boy who’d been way too excited for the 6 AM hour. He had felt your stare, looked at you, and continued, “Oh, hello. I’m Jungkook! Are you a freshman, too?”

Seokjin had stifled a laugh, and, for his sake, you had hoped it was at this Jungkook’s expense. “No,” You had glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched palm, “I’m a senior and the fucking captain of the women’s team.”

The freshman had turned bright red before smiling at you with renewed vigor, “So, you’re my noona then?”

“I prefer (y/n),” Your teeth had gritted together as your hands fell to your hips.

“Jungkookie…” Seokjin must have seen something on the younger boy’s face and had tried to prevent him from speaking again. It had been no use.

Jungkook had stared down at you with stars in his eyes as he announced, “I think I prefer you, too.”

And it had been precisely at that moment you knew that someday in the near or distant future you would enjoy disciplining that boy. Thoroughly.

Now, as if he felt your attention on him, Jungkook faced the direction where your team was gathered and locked eyes with you. His smile grew infinitesimally larger, and he blew you an exaggerated kiss with a wink. Your jaw clenched. It looked like you were going to need to have yet another talk with Seokjin about teaching Jungkook his fuckboy mannerisms.

Finally, the next event began to be announced, and Jungkook hopped out of the pool. You tried to turn your attention away from him, but you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he had been sculpted by the gods and had drops of water cascading down his tanned skin.

The proclaimed “golden freshman” strutted back towards your team area. His abs moved with each step, his muscled chest heaved for breath, his tight swim suit gripped his thighs and his crotch - basically leaving little to the imagination.

You stared at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, grinning at you and running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back out of his face.

Jungkook stopped in front of you and Lina, dangling his goggles from one long finger and swinging them in your face. “Did you see me win, noona?”

[That little shit.]

You swallowed your instinct to reply with a scathing remark. Instead, you remained cool as ice, just as you always did when Jungkook demanded your attention. It was your foolproof method for dealing with brats. “You know I did, Jeon. I have to watch everyone. That’s what good captains do.”

“Ah, that’s right. Captain noona…” His grin returned as you stared (READ: glared) up at him, “Always cheering me on and watching me win.”

“God, carrying that giant ego around must be exhausting,” Lina cocked her head and frowned at the younger boy.

“Are you talking about my dick?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion, “I mean, I guess it is pretty big. Maybe noona could help me carry it...”

You saw red; and, for the first time since meeting him, your perfect control snapped. Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped his neck to lower him enough so your mouth lined up with his ear, “Listen, Jeon. You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I tie you up and gag you.”

You pulled back. Jungkook’s eyes were blown wide open, his cheeks stained pink, his ears bright red. “N-noona!”

Lina was cackling next to you over how flustered you made the typically overconfident boy. You allowed yourself a brief cheeky smile at your friend before returning to a straight face. You needed to go get ready for your next race.

You had been trying all season to break your personal best time in the 100 meter butterfly, and you had a good feeling that you might just accomplish that today.

“I’m going to go warm-up,” You told Lina, grabbing your swim cap and goggles from your bag.

“Good luck, (y/n)!” Lina slapped you a high-five, “You got this. You are a legend. A queen!”

“A goddess!” Jungkook chimed in, peering at you from over Lina’s shoulder with heart eyes.

“Kook,” Seokjin swooped in and tugged the boy away from you, “Not the time. (Y/n) needs to focus! Good luck, babe!”

You gave the other captain a thumbs-up and headed down onto the pool deck. Faintly from the stands behind you, you heard Jungkook whining on about how Seokjin was allowed to call you ‘babe’ but he wasn’t.

Pushing that aside, you hopped into the designated warm-up/cool-down pool that was adjacent to the competition pool and proceeded to loosen up before your race.

Visualize the victory.

Take down the competition.

Leave nothing behind.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself hovering over the starting block, awaiting the starter. The natatorium was silent. You sucked in a breath and dove into the pool at the sound of the starting buzz.

Your body felt like it was on autopilot. Kick, kick, pull. Kick, kick, pull. Each time you took a breathe you could hear a split second of the roaring crowd. You pushed yourself faster.

Two laps turned into three as you sprinted. You didn’t dare check on your competition; those would be precious milliseconds wasted. And, as you swam your final lap, you didn’t even dare to breathe, swimming your hardest right until you hit the wall.

Gasping, you clutched the wall and swung around to look at your time.

00:51.34

Your best fucking time.

You felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. As you shook hands with the girls to your right and left, you smiled hugely up at your cheering teammates. They had known how much you wanted this - needed this.

The next race began to be announced, and you hauled your tired self out of the pool. Immediately, you were swept into a tight hug by your coach followed by what felt like your whole entire team. Your cheeks honestly hurt from smiling so hard.

As you thanked your last teammate, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Noona?”

You had never heard Jungkook sound so tiny; and, when you turned around, you didn’t stop him from hugging you.

“You did so good,” He mumbled, head burrowed into your wet hair. “My noona is so fucking good.”

You melted at his words. It had been so long since someone had called you ‘theirs’. And, so, you blamed your post-adrenaline spike exhaustion for your following actions.

Your arms slid around him, tugging him closer. You felt every ridge of his hard body - separated only by the thin swimsuits you each wore. Your nipples brushed his chest, and you honestly didn’t know if the moan that followed was from you or from Jungkook.

You whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Calling him by his first name was a rarity for you, and the muffled hum from the boy wrapped around you let you know it was well received.

And, when you pulled away from him, you made sure to run your hands over his chest along the way.

[That one had been on your bucket list, okay?]

Still so close to you, Jungkook stared at you with an unreadable expression. “Noona, are you coming over tonight?”

The men’s team always hosted the post-meet party at their house, and that was fine with you and your team. It meant no mess and lots of free alcohol.

“Yeah,” You pulled your wet hair over your shoulder, “I’ll be there. Post-Regionals is always so fun.”

“Well,” Jungkook puffed out his chest, “This year will be even more fun since I’ll be there!”

Ah, there he was - Cocky Jungkook™.

“You promise?” You smirked, tossing you hair over your shoulder as you moved past him, “After all, this is the only one you’ll get with me, Jeon.”

You didn’t look back at him as you made your way back to your team area.

But, if you had, you would have seen him staring intently at you with determination.

The challenge you had half-knowingly thrown down had been accepted.

Hours later, you and your teammates were decidedly tipsy from pre-gaming. 

“Okay, we should get going,” You said, checking your phone, “Jin said - and I quote - the boys are going to start rioting if we don’t get our sweet asses over there.”

“I bet he’s talking about Jungkook,” One of your teammates giggled, “That kid’s been trying to get with (y/n) this whole year.”

“That’s so true,” Lina threw her arm over your shoulder, “You might as well just fuck him and put us all out of our misery. We know you want to.”

You scoffed, pushing her arm off of you, “I will not be fucking anyone.”

“That’s what you said last year,” Lina fired back.

“Wait, what happened last year?” One of the freshman whispered.

You sighed, “Two words. Lim Jaebeom.”

A collective hum of appreciation and understanding rose from the group at the mention of the now-graduated swimmer.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, answering it. “Seokjin, for the love of god, we’re coming!”

“(Y/n)!” Seokjin yelled at you through the cries of what sounded like an angry mob, “My death will be on your hands if you don’t show up within the next minute!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Kim,” You hung up on him. Every fucking year the men’s team did this. You swore they couldn’t entertain themselves without you and your team.

“Come on,” You marched to the door, “Time to go ruin some boys.” With that, the lot of you walked across the street to the men’s team’s house.

[Yes, they literally lived right across the street. Seokjin was the king of drama.]

Not even bothering to knock, you swung open the door.

“What the fuck is up, Kyle!” Lina announced your presence for you as she hurried past, “Your better halves have arrived.”

“Oh, thank god!” Seokjin appeared by your side, clutching his chest, “My life is saved at last.”

You playfully shoved him, “Shut up, Kim. Now, where are the drinks?”

“Allow me to guide you to them, my queen,” Seokjin grabbed your hand and tugged you over towards the crowded kitchen.

You let him lead you, greeting members of the men’s team as you passed by them. Your pesky little freshman was nowhere in sight.

“Captains coming through!” Jin screeched, “Part the seas!”

You shook your head in disbelief at his antics, laughing as people actually seemed to be listening to the chaotic boy.

“See what authority we have when we’re together, babe? We could totally be a power couple,” Jin grinned at you as you finally arrived by the drinks scattered across the kitchen counter.

You weren’t going to lie, Seokjin was hot. You knew it. He knew it. The pope knew it.

But, you had done the whole alpha male thing. It was fun, but just not for you. No, you wanted someone a bit more submissive. Someone who you could gently break and build back up again. Someone like—

“Jungkook!” Jin cried, almost bursting your eardrum, “Come take a shot with your captains!”

Busying yourself with pouring shots for the three of you, you felt Jungkook arrive before you saw him. The warmth of his body seeped into you as he appeared by your side.

“Hi, noona,” He greeted you, his arm nudging yours. You turned, taking in his ripped jeans and loose black shirt before meeting his eyes.

“Hi, Jeon,” You shot him a small smile. He looked really fucking good tonight. His hair was long and messy, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered how much he had to drink before you arrived.

“Yes, yes, you have now exchanged greetings. Let’s move on,” Seokjin grabbed one of the shots you poured and hoisted it into the air, “To the best captains you’ve ever had!”

You threw your head back and laughed as you played along, lifting your glass in the air beside Jin. You felt Jungkook looking at you as if he’d never seen you act so carefree. And maybe he hadn’t.

The room echoed Seokjin’s declaration, and you took the shot, feeling the tequila burn down your throat as you locked eyes with Jungkook yet again. Heat settled deep in your stomach that you fucking knew was not from the alcohol you just consumed.

Jungkook’s lips were wet from the tequila, and your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your own. His eyes latched onto the movement before looking back at you under heavy lids. “Noona…” The honorific came out like a plea, but you didn’t even think he knew what he was asking for.

“(Y/n)!” One of your teammates called to you from across the room, “Play King’s Cup with us!” You shot her a thumbs up. Fixing yourself a drink, you gave the now pouting Jungkook a lazy smile, “Talk to you later?”

You squeezed his arm briefly; and, as you sauntered away, you felt his eyes glued to your ass. And, naturally, you made sure to put a nice swing into it. God, were you actually going to do this? Were you actually considering fucking him tonight?

[Yes.]

You cursed Lina for putting the idea into the front of your mind. You cursed yourself for having that very same idea since the very second you met him. And you cursed the boy himself for being so outwardly arrogant but so sinfully submissive.

[Or at least you hoped he was a sub. God, how you hoped.]

You greeted the group gathered around the coffee table for King’s Cup and plopped yourself down between Park Jimin and Lina. Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks pink. “Hi, (y/n)! I’m surprised Jungkook let you leave his side.”

Your eyebrows flew up, “And what makes you think I let Jungkook dictate my actions?”

Jimin gulped, eyes searching around the group for assistance and coming up empty handed. No one wanted to deal with your wrath. “I- I thought you were getting together?”

Lina let out a low whistle, “Jimin, you’re just a little too early, my dude. (Y/n), give the poor kid a break. Let’s play some King’s!”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. “Sorry, (y/n). Geez, you’re scary when you’re mad, but also kind of hot.”

His admission cracked you up, and you pinched his blushing cheek, “Jimin, you’re too cute. Don’t even worry about it.”

Two boys turned bright red at your actions: Jimin from embarrassment and Jungkook from jealousy.

You didn’t even know how many rounds of the game you played before someone suggested playing something else. You had a pretty nice buzz going, leaning on Jimin’s arm and laughing at a joke Lina told.

“I’ve got it!” Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers, grinning manically, “Body shots!”

Chaos ensued. It seemed half the group was down, and half the group was against it.

You knew Lina had the fattest crush on Tae, and so you reluctantly joined the side in agreement. She shot you a grateful look. 

“Let’s fucking do it,” You got to your feet, “Jin, do you have salt and limes?”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” He cried, running over to the kitchen and pulling random ingredients off of shelves. “We have salt, limes, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, cherries, sugar, orange juice, pickle juice, pepper—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Tequila, salt, and limes should be okay. God, were you really just about to offer pepper? As in the fucking spice?”

“Yes,” His muffled response came from behind your hand.

“You’re something else, Kim Seokjin,” You muttered before turning back to the group. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“We wrote everyone’s names down, and we’re going to take turns picking,” Lina said, thrusting a hat in your direction that was full of slips of paper.

“No one else wants to go first?” You looked around the room suspiciously and then shrugged, “Alright, fine.”

You dipped your hand into the pile of papers and selected one. Opening it, your breath escaped you in a whoosh, “Jeon Jungkook.”

The room erupted into cheers.

“Fuck yeah! Get it, Jeon!”

“Oh, this is going to be hot!”

“Yas queen! That’s my mom right there!”

You threw the slip of paper at Lina as she screamed that last remark at you.

Searching the room for Jungkook, you found him lounging by the empty couch against the far wall waiting for you with a shit-eating grin. Did the boy think he was going to be taking the shot off of you?

[Oh, how foolish.]

You approached him, grabbing the bottle of tequila, a shot glass, the salt, and a slice of lime from Jin on your way over. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t allow him the chance, “Shirt off, Jeon.”

Whistles broke out as Jungkook froze, looking confused for a second, and then he tugged his shirt over his head. You praised your decision-making skills. His body deserved to be worshipped with your tongue. It was only right and just.

“Now what, noona?” The boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest. A move you knew he only did because it made his biceps flex.

“Lay down,” You tilted your head, indicating he should get down on the couch, “And shut up.”

Jungkook’s eyes heated at your words. He obeyed, laying down just like you asked. However, he brought his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head. The fucking brat knew what he was doing.

You would punish him accordingly.

Your finger brushed over his lips before pushing the slice of lime between them. “Hold that for me, would you?” You murmured, hitching one leg over his body and settling firmly on his lap.

Assessing where to put the shot, you decided—fuck it—and placed it right between his legs.

Vaguely, you heard the people surrounding you yelling and screaming, but you were only focused on Jungkook and how round his eyes were as they stared at your hand holding the shot glass steady, dangerously close to his crotch.

Suppressing a smile, you poured a trail of salt down the middle of his abs. Finally unleashing your evil grin, you lean close to him with your hair blocking your face from the audience, “You ready, baby boy?”

He nodded furiously.

You flicked your hair over your shoulder and slowly lowered yourself over his stomach. Keeping your eyes on his, you swiped your tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. Jungkook’s chest was heaving, his abs were tensing, his eyes were hooded.

You licked slowly down his stomach, tasting the salt and him all at once. His skin was burning under your tongue as you delved into each groove of his abs, making sure no salt was left behind. Satisfied you had gotten all of it, you shifted lower still, ghosting over the now growing bulge in his jeans to hover over the shot.

Wrapping your lips around the glass, you tilted your head back as you straightened into a sitting position. The liquid coursed down your throat, but you barely felt the burn this time. You moved up, settling right on his hardening cock, and sucked the lime from his mouth.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan as you threw the lime’s peel somewhere over your shoulder, ignoring the indignant cry in response from Jin.

You kissed him, his lips sticky with lime juice and oh so delicious. His hands finally moved from behind his head to grip your hips. You didn’t even realize you were grinding into him until his hands tried to hold you still.

[Sorry, not sorry.]

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you tugged on it before releasing it to place another soft kiss on his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin’s loud voice broke through your daze, “No fornicating on my couch, please!”

“So, if we were married, we could fuck on it? Is that what you’re saying?” You pulled away from Jungkook’s mouth and laughed at Jin’s gobsmacked expression.

“Yah, so disrespectful!” He yanked you off of Jungkook and set you on your feet, “Okay, who’s next? Tae and Lina? Me and Jiminie?”

You shook your head at your fellow captain and turned back to Jungkook; but, you found the couch empty. Whipping around to look for him, you noticed one of your teammates gesturing towards the stairs. You shot them a thankful glance and darted in the direction the boy apparently disappeared in.

“Jeon?” You called as you reached the top of the staircase. Failing to hear a response, you moved down the hallway. Your eyes and ears strained for any sign of him.

Finally, your gaze focused on the closed door at the far end of the hall. A soft light emitted from the bottom of it; and, as you crept closer, you heard Jungkook cursing on the other side of it.

You knocked once. “Jeon? What are you do—” Your words died in your throat as you threw open the door and laid eyes on a very naked and very turned on Jungkook.

“Noona, I can explain!” He jumped out of his bed, fumbling around for his pants.

You calmly shut the door and locked it behind you. 

“Shh, baby,” You whispered, crossing the room and stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to explain. It made you hard, didn’t it? Having me on top of you, licking your skin, kissing your lips… You just couldn’t help yourself, hmm?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed, “Y-yes. I’m so hard it hurts. Noona, please touch me.”

“I can see that,” You glanced down at his cock. It was admittedly big, and it reminded you of what he had said earlier about you holding it for him. “Jungkook, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve been such a brat to me this whole year. Why should I?”

You turned and began to walk to the door. As predicted, Jungkook rushed around you to block the exit, “Please, (Y/n)! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop bugging you. I’ll return the swim cap I stole from your bag...”

[That was him? You looked for that cap for weeks!]

He continued, “I’ll stop trying to get your attention! I’ll—”

You grabbed his cock - a truly effective method to shut him up. “You’ll be good for me, baby?” Your thumb brushed across his slit, collecting the drop of precum gathered there. Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you licked the droplet off, savoring the salty taste.

He let out a strangled groan as you did so. “Fuck yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your good boy.”

“You know,” Your hand returned to stroke his cock slowly, before dropping it, “I don’t think I believe you.”

“No!” Jungkook looked close to tears as he tried to bring your hand back, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” You sunk to your knees before him, “You’ll do anything, Kookie?”

He shuddered, “Yeah, I’m yours. I’ll do anything as long as you ask me.”

“Really?” You cooed, running your fingers up his toned calves and quads, “I like that the sound of that, baby. Okay, fine. But you can’t come until I say so, got it?”

After seeing him nod vigorously, you spit on the head of his cock and use your hand to spread the combination of spit and precum around.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, leaning against the door, “Noona is so dirty.”

“Oh, baby,” You grinned, “You have no idea.”

And, with that, you took the head of his cock into your mouth and sucked.

Jungkook let out a choked groan, his fingers sliding into your hair.

You took him as far as you could and then swallowed around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He chanted above you. You glanced up at him and hummed in amusement at his fucked out expression, and the stimulation from your humming only made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

You released him with a pop. “Jungkook, look at me when I suck your cock.”

“Y-yes, noona,” The boy blinked his eyes open and angled his head down to meet your eyes.

“Good boy,” You nodded and then licked up the underside of his cock before taking him back into your mouth.

You blew him hard, stroking the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit entirely in your mouth. Your mouth bobbed, your hands grabbed his ass, your tongue swiped over him.

“Please, please, noona, I’m so close,” he begged, looking down at you with wide eyes and a pleading expression, “Please let me come, (y/n)!”

You glared up at him, releasing him once again, “No.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook gasped above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, can I come in your mouth?”

“No,” You repeated, your hand stroking him loosely. He whined, his hips straining to try to get you to grip him tighter.

You dropped your hold and stood, heading over to his bed.

“Nooo! Noona!” The brat moaned from behind you. You glanced back and scowled as you saw him clutching his cock in his hands.

“Jungkook, if you don’t get your hands off your cock in the next second, I won’t let you touch me.”

He dropped his cock like a hot potato. “I can touch you?” His eyes shone at the possibility.

You rolled your eyes and tugged your t-shirt dress over your head.

“Damn, noona, you’re so sexy,” Jungkook reached out to grab your waist but you smacked his hand away.

“Lay down on the bed, Kook,” You ordered, unclasping your bra and shimmying out of your thong, “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come.”

“Hell yeah,” The idiot launched himself onto the bed and flipped over onto his back, “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

You pinched his nipple and he yelped. “You’re such a dweeb,” You sighed, getting into position on top of him. He grinned up at you from in between your thighs.

“I think I’m in heaven,” He said, flicking his eyes across your body and staring hungrily at your pussy.

“Hm,” You shrugged and lowered yourself down just out of reach of his tongue, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you make me come hard enough, I’ll reward you.”

With that, you sunk down onto his face. His tongue immediately delved into you, flicking and lathering between your folds. His hands flew up to grip your ass, pushing you harder down onto his face.

[Fuck, you had never been more thankful for swimming and its conditioning. Amazing breath control? Check. Incredible stamina? Double check.]

You arched your back as Jungkook circled your aching clit. “That’s it, baby,” You moaned, reaching down to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers, “You’re doing so well. You’re making me feel so good.”

His pace quickened at the sound of your praises, his tongue thrust inside you, his nose rubbed at your clit. You felt the pleasure building and building. “Yes, Jungkook, don’t stop,” You looked down at him and his eyes were so dilated. He was looking back at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And it was that look that pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your legs giving out from under you and your full weight falling on Jungkook. The boy took it, tongue unceasing in its movements, lapping up every last drop you have him.

As you rode out the last of your orgasm, you lifted yourself off of Jungkook and stood.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook said, breathing hard.

“What for, baby?” Your cocked your head, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for after making you come so hard.

The poor boy blushed furiously. You glanced over him and quickly realized the problem.

“You came on yourself?” You murmured, stroking your hand through his hair as he gazed up at you regretfully.

He nodded, lower lip jutting out in a cute pout.

“You know,” You said, rounding the bed and settling in between his legs. “Usually I would punish you for this, but I think it’s really fucking hot that you came just from eating me out, baby. I’m just sad you didn’t come in my mouth or my pussy.”

You swiped your finger across the cum gathered on across his abs and sucked it into your mouth.

“I can still come inside you, noona!” Jungkook rocketed up into a sitting position, “Look, I’m already hard again! That’s the effect you have on me!”

You looked down and, sure enough, he was right.

“What a lovely surprise,” You murmured, “Now, should I let you have my mouth or my pussy?”

“I would die for your pussy, noona,” Jungkook said gravely.

“Always so dramatic…” You pushed him back down and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He bit his lip, watching entranced as you pushed the very tip of his cock inside you. A choked breath burst out of Jungkook as you sunk down lower.

“Noona, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good,” His hands clenched on your thighs as you took him to the hilt and rolled your hips. Damn, he filled you up so nicely. Your walls clenched tightly around him, every shift of your hips brought delicious friction.

“Move, noona, please,” He begged, “Fuck me.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, reveling in the moan he let out in response.

“Play with my nipples, Kook,” You panted, beginning to ride him hard.

Jungkook grabbed your ass and shifted backwards. Sitting with his back against the headboard, his mouth descended onto one of your nipples.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, baby,” You moaned, grinding down onto him as he bit down lightly.

“You’re so fucking hot, noona,” Jungkook groaned, “And your pussy feels so fucking good. I always knew it would though…”

You gripped his hair and tugged hard, “Don’t make me follow through with my gag idea.”

You felt his cock twitch, “Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” He lied.

You brought two fingers to his mouth, “Suck.”

His eyes widened at your command, but his mouth opened obediently. You shoved your fingers inside. Quickening your pace, you bounced on his cock as he sucked on your fingers, moaning around them. You brought your other hand down to play with your clit as you felt your second orgasm rising.

“Are you going to come, Kook?” You panted, clenching down around him, “Are you going to fill me up? Are you going to paint my walls with your cum?”

He nodded furiously, still lapping at your fingers. His hips bucked up into yours, and you clenched down one last time before pinching your clit.

The onset of your climax set off Jungkook’s as he came hard. You tugged your fingers out of his mouth as the boy cursed and cried your name over and over.

The warmth of him filling you up felt so fucking good. “You’re such a good boy, baby. You’re my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” He smiled with his eyes still shut, “I’m noona’s good boy.”

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he frowned, “But for how long?”

“What, baby?” You shifted off of him to lay down at his side.

“How long am I going to be your baby?” His pout from earlier had returned with epic proportions, “Don’t think I didn’t see you earlier getting close with Jimin-hyung downstairs. And I know you let Jin-hyung call you ‘babe’! And—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “Shut up, you idiot,” You said, lips brushing over his, “You’re mine for as long as you want me and for as long as I want you.”

His pout remained, “But what if Jaebeom-hyung comes back?”

“How do you even— I’m going to kill Jin,” You growled before bringing your hand up to brush over Jungkook’s cheek. “Jungkook, listen to me. Yes, you’ve been a nuisance this whole season, but I always knew you did it because you liked me.”

You grinned at his blush and continued, “Well, guess what? I like you, too. God only knows why. You’re cocky and brash and loud and—mmmf!”

Jungkook flipped you over and attacked your mouth with kisses. “Noona, you like me?”

“Yes,” You groaned, shifting your face to try to avoid some of his affection, “I like you, you big brute of a baby.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to have to plan the most perfect first date. Oh my god, we are totally going be that Swim Power Couple™. Holy shit, wait! Just think about how good our kids are going to be! We’re going to make a whole team of Olympians, noona!”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You screamed, “Kids?! Good god, what am I going to do with you?”

He smiled down at you and kissed your cheek, “Keep me forever, I hope, noona.”

You smiled back at him softly, “I think I just might…”

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by  tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

-

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

[knchins]

Hunger - Todoroki S.

Summary: Todoroki Shouto doesn’t want to follow the footsteps of his father. On the brink of starvation, he hears the call of a witch who finds a way to fulfill both of their needs.

Pairing: Incubus!Shouto x Witch!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sm*t, v*ginal fingering, v*ginal s*x, oral s*x, c*nnilingus, choking, some mentions of (consensual) breeding, soft!dom Shouto, some begging ig, some mentions of sugar daddy/baby, Shouto is several centuries old and is of age, oh and some fluff

Notes: This was my very first request I think??? I got it months ago lol so idk if this person if even still following me RIP. But I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope they enjoy it wherever they are <3 I did deviate a little bit but not TOO much.Censored words is so I can show up in the gd tags.

 Dealing with demons had become sort of a pastime for her, the young witch living in the secluded wood out in the countryside. She greatly enjoyed the remoteness, though sometimes it did come to a great disadvantage. Travelers would come, asking for potions or spell-work, something to help them with their troubles in life. As a grey witch (one who practiced both white and black magic), she tended to be able to help just about anyone with anything. Of course there were a few lines she wouldn’t cross such as raising the dead or directly causing death. She did have some morals after all, albeit somewhat controversial ones.

 Whenever she needed an item that she simply had no access to, then she would call upon demons to aid her in her work. The first couple times she had been a little reluctant and she would be lying if she didn’t say she had a few close calls, but ultimately demons could be bartered with just as humans could. The lower leveled ones were rarely smart enough to outwit her or ask for something she just couldn’t give. So far, dealings were good and they only became better when she met him.

 On the fourth or fifth time she called out for help, this time she needed a rare desert root for a drying spell, she followed the same procedure as always. She lit her candles, drew a summoning sigil on the floor, and chanted the words that would bring her the closest demonic being that felt the urge to heed her call. She specifically did it in a way that powerful demons would not be attracted. In fact, she would much prefer to keep them away for they were much smarter and more conniving, and ultimately not worth the risk. This time though...this time someone with a little more juice than what she normally found herself bargaining with appeared before her.

 Todoroki Shouto was an incubus with the most prestigious lineage of any sex demon that resided in hell. His father was known by all demonic beings. He was number one in his class, The closest to king that anyone of them could truly be. He had also fathered more children than any other demon, enjoying ruining human women to the point that they could no longer be satisfied by mortal men. Shouto found it distasteful. The way Enji wold flux his hormones so that any woman within a few hundred feet would simply beg for him to fuck her, to breed her, to make her his. He had more half-siblings than he could count in addition to the three full-blooded ones. His mother had also been a high class demon with a pedigree, though her whereabouts were currently unknown.

 He was minding his own business, taking a nice walk through the woods in the mortal realm when he heard the call. There was a tugging sensation on his chest and a melodic voice ringing in his ears. It was not a call for someone like him. Someone capable of such true  power. Yet, something drew him in. Something about that voice had his interest piqued. He couldn’t resist answering her quickly, less some other demon came to her first.

 He appeared before her, hair split down the middle perfectly. One half red like his father’s, the other white as his mother’s. One dark grey eye and another a brilliant blue, his white button-down shirt loose fitting with a few top buttons undone to show off his chest. If he wanted to lure in the opposite sex then he could with ease, but Todorki Shouto had a secret. One that made him much less powerful than he could be.

 The witch was taken aback by the demon in front of her. He was certainly the most handsome she had ever seen, most lower level ones were not very pleasing to look at. It made them easier to deal with. Her curious eyes blinked as if to make sure he was really there. Immediately she could sense that something was off about him. Something wasn’t quite right, however she could not pinpoint what it was.

 Shouto regretted answering the call immediately. The witch he had been summoned by was possibly the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes on. She was pure beauty and grace, more stunning than anyone residing in hell or earth. In fact, part of him wondered if maybe she was an angel. However the various bottles of herbs and assorted animal parts quickly led him to believe that she was not divine. She was simply mortal and in need of help.

 “Oh an incubus.” She said, still looking very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “What a surprise. I’m not sure if you can help me or not. You’re a little out of my league.” The last part seemed like a joke but Shouto wasn’t entirely sure.

 “Why did you call for me here?” He asked calmly, his face perfectly blank though his eyes were fixated on her.

 “I’m in need of something for a spell.” She said honestly, “Sometimes I call upon demons to help me gather items I cannot easily get.”

 “Is that not dangerous?” He asked, starting to look more intrigued than anything. “Do you not worry about your safety?”

 The witch let out a nervous laugh, “Well, lower levels ones aren’t much of a problem for me. You’re a bit more than I’m used to. I’m surprised you even heard it honestly.”

 Shouto knew immediately why he heard it. Because as it stood, his power level was that of some lower tier demon. He had only fed twice since coming of age. His hunger was almost maddening. It had been eating away at him for decades. But he would not be his father. He would not be a glutton for sex and breeding. He refused to follow in his very heavy footsteps.

 “I was simply within range.” He said, though she knew that him happening to be close by to her didn’t really mean much. The spell was designed to not be heard by anyone over a certain power level. Could an incubus really be below that? “What do you need?”

 “A root.” She replied, flipping through one of the many of her family’s grimoires. She found the page that had a drawn picture, name, and general description. “This one.”

 “You’re doing a drying spell.” He said out loud by mistake. He knew because he had had this particular spell cast on him many times throughout the years, though recently it seemed to be working less and less. It was to dry up sexual desire. It was one of the few things that helped him get by so long without feeding. Without it he would have been driven insane by lust many decades ago.

 The witch cocked her head at him curiously, “yes, I am. For a client. She’s tired of having children but her husband just won’t stay off of her. She’s hoping it’ll get him to stop.” She paused for a moment, “Can you get it?”

 “Yes.” he replied dumbly, as if it were totally obvious.

 “What is your price?” She asked then, realizing he didn’t catch the implied question.

 Shouto thought for a moment, it was about time to recast the spell judging by the lecherous thoughts that were starting to cross his mind. “Can you perform another one?”

 She looked perplexed for a moment before it dawned on her why he heard her incantation. He was starved. And he must have been for some time too. “I can but I think I can do something else for you that will be much more beneficial.”

 “And what is that?” Shouto asked, wondering if perhaps there was another spell or potion out there that was more powerful and thus would be more effective.

 “Just have sex with me.”

 That was how it started. Any time the young witch needed something, she’d do a more specific summoning spell, one that only Shouto could hear. And every time he’d come, no matter what he was doing, to aid her. She would often jokingly call him her demonic sugar daddy because he provided everything for her for the low low price of coitus.

 The first couple times had been a little awkward. Shouto’s abilities were almost dormant. He fumbled his way about her body which was quite embarrassing for a sex demon. However after a few practice rounds the two truly began to find what got the other off the most. And in half a dozen sessions Shouto was feeling power, but with power came hunger.

 When he appeared before her hearth one night, without an invitation, the woman nearly threw an old vase full of nightshade at him in terror. She only put it down when she realized it wasn’t just any random intruder, but her newfound lover. She hadn’t needed anything in quite some time now. Hadn’t called on him because business had been rather slow and the jobs she did get, she didn’t need anything from him. Perhaps it was a little cruel of her to not call on him regardless, but she honestly did not know how much his appetite had grown. How it began to consume him until all he could think about was her, naked and writhing beneath him as he pounded into her. He craved her and only her. It was not something that ever really happened to Incubi. After all they could have anyone they wanted. But he didn’t want anyone else. He only had eyes for her.

 “Shouto.” She breathed out, heart still racing as she set down the clay vase. “I wasn’t expecting you, did you need something?”

 His eyes were fiery as he stepped towards her and she could smell the faint scent of hell on him. She wondered if maybe he had another argument with his father. He had told her a little about his family life during post-sex cuddles. It wasn’t much but she knew he hated the demon that sired him. He always seemed to be wound extra tight after coming straight from hell, and that was usually the reason.

 “Go bend your ass over the bed.” He said, further unbuttoned the flowy shirt he typical wore. Her eyes grew wide, embarrassment heating her face as she took a small step away from him. It wasn’t really out of fear, just a simple reflex. He never really got demanding of her like this, maybe something was wrong.

 But the warmth pooling between her legs told her that despite the interruption, despite having not planned this whatsoever, hearing him order her to get into the bedroom had her flooding with desire, and he could smell it.

 Shouto didn’t really have to use his pheromones to seduce her. He was naturally attractive and had a body that looked as if it had been sculpted out of marble. No, he never used them before but he was definitely using them now and they had her weak in the knees as she trembled. She walked on shaky legs into her bedroom, keeping her thighs pressed together as she walked in an attempt to hide the wetness that was accumulating in her panties. It was pointless though. He could always tell.

 He left his shirt in the living room and kicked off his boots on his way to the bedroom. He lost his pants at the entryway, watching as she leaned over the side of the bed and resting on her forearms. Her eyes large and doe-like at the rush of adrenaline. Sex with with a sex demon was always an unforgettable experience. It was easy to see how people went mad over it. The way he made her feel, the orgasms he gave her, none of it compared to any other lover she had ever had. Perhaps that was one reason why she had been so willing to listen to him just now. She knew he’d make her feel good, and who didn’t like to feel good?

 Shouto padded over, dropping to his knees behind her as he pushed her skirt up over her ass so that the fabric could bunch at her waist. His nimble fingers hooked around the elastic of her panties and he slid them down with an odd amount of carefulness. He practically buried his nose into her sex, inhaling that sweet scent of arousal that had him feeling absolutely feral. His tongue came to prod at her clit, causing a small whimpering sound to come from her.

 He dragged his tongue over every inch of her pussy, savoring it fully until she was a quivering mess with shaking knees that threatened to make her fall down. “Let me breed you.” He said between kitten licks. “You can have anything in return.”

 They had been using protection until then. Sex demons were incredibly fertile and typically had no trouble creating offspring. But at the time when this started, Shouto didn’t want to sow his wild oats like his father had. This witch had him wanting to throw all of that to the wind. He just didn’t care. That drive to fuck without any sort of barrier was maddening.

 Anything from a demon was a very big price tag, and Shouto had never tried to deceive her. He had never been anything other than honest. And despite all her teachers to never trust a demon, she found herself trusting him. Every time their bodies intertwined she fell more and more in love, no matter how much she had tried to resist. She had thought some distance would have helped ease her feelings, but apparently it had been hard on both of them.

 “Y-yes,” She gasped out as he latched onto her clit to suck, “Ple-please, Shouto, fill me with your cum.” She was gripping the old quilt on her bed tightly to try and keep herself grounded, but the way he was eating her out, two lithe fingers now dipping into her dripping core made it impossible to even think straight. All she could think about was her simple need to have him inside of her.

 He didn’t stop working his fingers or tongue until she hit her first peak, moaning out for him in a way that had him nearly cumming prematurely. The strain in his underwear was painful now as he throbbed with need. After one long lick along her slit he stood up, grabbing onto the globes of her ass for pretend support.

 “Tell me what you want me to do, Little Witch.” He said as he pulled down his briefs and kicked them away as if they were the most offensive thing in the world to him. “You’re shaking like you want to say something. So say it.”

 “I need you,” She said, somehow sounding out of breath despite not having done anything besides orgasm. “Shouto, I need you so much.” He wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping in slowly as he watched her continue to tremble. “Please fuck me!”

 The amount of lust he was feeling for this one mortal woman was dizzying. No one had ever told him that one person could have this kind of effect on a demon. Neither his father nor his two older brothers. Was it that far fetched to think that something was happening to him that had never happened to them before? They all had a primal drive for sex but never towards one specific person. Shouto found that he desired no one else in any of the realms. He only wanted her.

 He pushed it without any hesitation, feeling her tense suddenly at his thickness stretching her out. He watched with fascination as he disappeared inside of her cunt, the warm, wet feeling enveloping him like summer rain. “Fuck,” He couldn’t stop himself from cursing and just how amazing it felt to be inside her. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being held underwater for an extended period of time. It was so damn freeing.

 The witch relaxed against the mattress, her eyes closed to focus on that beautiful feeling of him completing her with his cock. Shouto took hold of her hips to keep her upright and steady as he pulled out slowly before bottoming out all over again, her slick making for the best lubricant as he moved with ease.

 It started slow. Shouto wanted to revel in the heat. He wanted to drink in the feeling of her walls clamping down around him. The sound of her tiny whimpers when he pushed all the way in after pulling out. But this was much too slow for her, she couldn’t handle such a torturous rhythm. Shouto had eternity but his little mortal did not. Her time was limited and the thought of that made his heart suddenly ache.

 “F-Faster,” She dared to mumble to him, sometimes he’d punish her if she begged too much. If she didn’t let him enjoy himself properly. Today was not one of those days though. Today Shouto wanted to hear her cry for his cock.

 So he obliged, increasing his pace as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. His witch began to moan even louder as he hit that sweet spot again and again, making her dizzy with ecstasy. She never lasted long when it came to sex with Shouto, something he took great pride in. He loved nothing more than to give her multiple orgasms.

 But this view just wasn’t doing it for him. He pulled out abruptly, making her cry at the sudden emptiness. He flipped her over onto her back, ripping at her blouse so that it was torn wide open for him. Then he tugged down her bra to free her breasts before reinserting himself into her. He watched her face contort with pleasure, the glossy look in her eyes as he began to pound into her at a relentless pace. The hypnotizing way her tits bounced with every thrust, they were just so perfectly in sync with one another. It was the definition of beauty.

 Shouto brought a thumb to her clit, lightly pressing on it in a way that had her clamping down on him even more. It was as if she was trying to suck him in deeper, never wanting to be without him again. He grunted at this sensation, eyes burning with lust as her mouth made that perfect “o” formation with her eyes rolling back as her second orgasm overcame her.

 He never talked much during sex, choosing to be a silent observer. Every now and then he’d give a command or order, but that was about it. He had never been much one for dirty talk like his father or eldest brother. The witch was fine with this. He made it hard enough for her to think without adding the pressure of comprehending something as complex as language.

 Just when she thought he might be coming to his end, he increased his pace even more. She whined, still feeling incredibly sensitive from the first two orgasms. At least he had the decency to take his thumb from her aching clit. Instead he reached up and wrapped his hand around her bare throat, squeezing just enough to lessen the flow of oxygen and blood to her brain.

 She gasped for air, her moans less audible now as air came out in strangled puffs. He would loosen just enough to give her a small break before tightening back up again. She grabbed at his wrist, and he waited for her sign that it was too much. A double tap anywhere on his body with her pointer and middle finger, or their safe word if she could manage it was all he needed to tell him that he’d gone too far. But neither came and so he continued to abuse her pussy with a pace so fast no human could possibly keep up, and only when she was screaming his name a third time did he finally release himself.

 Shouto came inside her for the very first time. Normally he pulled out even with a condom on. He really wanted to take no risk. This time, this time he had to claim her as his somehow. If any other demon were to come to her then then they’d smell him all over her. They’d think twice before crossing a Todoroki, that was just how well known his family was.

 He removed his hand from her neck, before leaning down to kiss it softly. His nose nuzzled the underside of her jaw in a way that might have appeared to be loving if either of them knew what that word really meant. Her heavy breathing slowly calmed down, delicate fingers squeezing his biceps with care. A simple sign to tell him that she was alright and that he did good. She had found that sometimes he needed encouragement. Sometimes he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be. But small reassurances were really all he needed to bounce back to normal.

 “Can you stay the night?” She mumbled. Any time she asked, any time she was feeling particularly weak for him, he would turn her down. Saying he had other things to do. Saying it just wouldn’t be proper. Making any excuse he could.

 This time Shouto did not move from on top of her. His mound clouded with the afterglow of such an intense orgasm. He knew then that he’d do anything for her. Anything at all. And because of that realization he hummed back a simple affirmative. He’d stay as long as she would have him.

[grantiskeith]

Baby Wolf Cub (Davidxreader) Part 2

I don't know about anyone else, but this stopped being about ASMR a long time ago. Redacted's storytelling ability and world-building skills are fantastic. I would 100% read a book if he wrote one.

Here is part 2 of the first fic I have ever written.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: dad vibes, blood, gunshot

"Hello?" I picked up my ringing phone "what! Who is this!" David picked his head off the floor, ears perking up. The little pup yawned and stretched against David's fur.

"Where? Tonight?" Click. 11:14 pm. David shifted back into his human self which prompted the sleeping cub into a sleeping baby with its butt in the air. "What's going on?"

I dialed another number without answering him."Milo, hey I need you to come over. It's an emergency. No, no one's hurt but we need your help. Yeah, thanks"

Click. "They followed me from Chicago, they want the kid back." I walked to the little one one and bent over to pick him up. David stuck his hand out in front of mine.

"Don't touch him, let him sleep. Shifting takes magic and doing it as often as he is would be exhausting for a full grown adult. He'll figure it out, but he needs sleep. Now what the hell are you talking about? Who called? Stop! don't put your jacket on"

"I don't know who, all I know is that there's a lead on the corner of South and Maple and I'm going to figure out what's going on." I did put my jacket down but only to grab a light blanket off the couch and draped it over the baby's legs.

"Angel, that's too dangerous, they could be vampires or murderers or..."

"They're most likely kidnappers, which is why we need to stop them"

"Listen to yourself! You're not Sherlock Holmes, you're not Batman"

Angel put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes, "you're just a fragile human and you need to stay here and be safe."

"It's not your job to protect me"

"Actually it is. As soon as you became my mate you became part of the pack. As the Alpha and your mate it is my duty to take care of you" he backed up from me and rubbed his hands over his face. "I love you Angel! I would give my life for you without question"

"I would never ask you to!" I said that a little louder than I should and the baby turned over before it started crying. I went over to pick him up but David got to him first and subtly bounced him on his hip.

"Why are you putting something so special to me in harm's way? You are a fucking danger to yourself and the more you get involved in these messes the more likely you are to put me and my pack in the line of fucking fire. There are things about the magic world that you don't understand and there are more threats than you can see. Let's ignore that call and just take this trouble maker to the department."

I put my head down to the floor. It was late and I was tired. Almost a half tempting offer. But there was a mystery to be solved here and possibly a larger crime.

"Sitting in bed and watching tv does not help anyone," I told him. "I am the mate of one of the most influential wolf pack's alpha. You know I'm tough or else you know I wouldn't last long. I was made of something durable and built for being more than a fucking house wife!"

David put the baby on the couch and laid the blanket out next to him. Carefully, he wrapped the little one up into a burrito and scooped him up to cradle him.

"Before you go and get your life sucked out by a damn shade or something. Throw a cup of milk in the microwave for a few seconds" David said, sitting down on the couch.

"Uh sure" I said. "I am not a complete dumbass, I know I shouldn't go alone. If you won't come and back me up then I will ask Milo." I handed him a lukewarm glass. "How did you get so good with infants anyway?"

Silence from David. I hate it when he just shuts down. He propped the baby up against his chest and titled the cup up until the little one could drink.

"Instinct, basic life skills, common fucking sense. All things you don't possess, clearly" he put the cup down on the table. And took a deep breath. "My dad… he would make me help out new moms in the pack. He used to say I needed to spend time with women since my mom wasn't around. It was a way of helping the pack feel more like a family"

I sat down next to him. Coat on, shoes on, ready to jump out the door.

"Angel, I have lost so damn much. Just from life already being as fucking dangerous as it is. If something happened to you... I just... I don't know what I would do... I fucking..."

I cut him off, "I know. I love you too. Unmistakable fact of life. I love you."

A knock at the door, "hey guys it's me." I got up and opened it to Milo's anxious face, "What's wrong, that's the emer.. Holy shit! is that yours" Milo stared in disbelief.

"Yes, it is, in the 48 hours I was gone I went and had a werewolf baby and now you're the designated sitter so we can go make another one" I was monotone in my sarcasm. I stepped out the door, "you coming Davey?"

David carefully slipped the baby into Milo's arms, "support the head and neck here," I heard him say. "Yeah, remember when we used to do this with Ginny's baby a few years back?"

He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and followed me "of course I'm coming you dumbass." He yelled down the hall at me, "Oh Milo, if he starts whimpering just shift and lay with him, he's docile. There's warm milk on the table and more in the fridge if he's crying. He didn't mind the couch but feel free to lay him on the bed"

"Let's go!" I yelled to David down the hallway.

"What the fuck is going on" was the last thing I heard Milo say before David shut the door.

South and Maple was a quiet intersection, although most are at the ungodly hour of 2am. Surrounded by three or four story buildings with alleyways and parked cars. There was no shortage of places to hide or spy down on the intersection. David and I stepped onto an alley between two buildings to discuss a plan. Unfortunately we didn't get the time.

"Where is he?"

We both turned to a tall lanky woman at the end of the alley. She was dressed in a pantsuit, real realtor vibes. Two men ran around the corner and took their place behind her. David growled but I put my hand out in front of him, "hold back" I whispered.

"Who are you and what do you want? Where are the parents?" I yelled down the alley.

"Where? Honey probably at the bottom of the the lake considering the rocks tied to their ankles"

David started growling again but I told him again to wait. This conversation was not violent yet.

"You stole that baby!" I accused

"Baby?" She laughed, "that was not a baby, what you have hidden somewhere is a freak circus animal that many are willing to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for."

"You bitch!" I yelled

"I have bids lined up" the men besides her both shifted in werewolves which prompted David to do the same. The sudden magic and chaos of growling and barking filled the air. David was significantly larger than the other two but he was outnumbered. There was a mix of growling, barking, and biting. I was bewildered that I didn't even hear the shot. The lady whistled and both the other wolves ran to join her. They walked around the corner.

David shook himself off and ran to follow. Water fell down the side of my leg. Water? I looked up trying to find a leaking gutter or rain. No rain. I looked down and saw a red stain on the side of my shirt growing. I balled up a chunk of shirt and held it against my side.

"Davey'' my voice cracked. "Davey!" I couldn't get it to be as loud as I needed. My left ear started ringing loudly. My head was full of sawdust and my vision became the static of an old tv. I felt a hand over my own behind me. Fuck, Davey. Where did he come from?

"Can you ..." was all I heard before I felt my knees give out. David picked me up bridal style and ran to the end of the alleyway. I heard the car door open and the next thing I saw was the ceiling over the back seat. David climbed in the back with me and shut and locked the door.

"Just.. drive" fuck, talking hurt.

"Classic triage Angel, stabilize then transport." He tried to move my hand away from the wet spot I was holding.

"It doesn't hurt that bad! Just drive" I was using whatever I had left to keep him away.

"That's cause you're going into shock" he grabbed my denim jacket from the front seat, "hey, Angel look at me. I'm going to lift your hand up just for a second and put your jacket under it ok?"

I winced and nodded. It actually didn't hurt that bad. I couldn't feel anything and everything had a vague cold numbness. He drapped his leather jacket over my shoulders.

I took a deep and painful breath. I closed my eyes for a moment but then I felt David snapping his hand over my face. When did he get in the front seat? When did he start driving.

"Hey! Keep your eyes open"

"I'm fine, I'm ok. I just blinked"

"You're pale. Are you nauseous?" David put his eyes back on the road, "if we go back to the apartment they'll follow us and find the kid" he said, "but if we go to a human hospital they'll ask too many questions. So we're going to.. Hey Angel! Open your eyes and keep holding that jacket down. We're going to Milo's mother's place. She'll be ready for us. Angel! Are you listening to me? Asher and Milo have the baby. Christan is leading the pack to hunt down that woman."

I was barely making out the words. Davey was the alpha for a reason, that's the only thing I understood. Cool under pressure, rallying the troops, delegating orders. I nodded, at least I think I did. "I love you" were the words that I tried to get out of my mouth. I felt the engine of the car rev louder.

[hb-writes]

All the Wrong Things

1924

Clara visited John last, nearly two full weeks after all that happened with the train explosion and the economic league and the family meeting she had missed, tucked away upstairs under a morphine-induced slumber. She hadn't set out to see John last by any sort of design. Clara would have liked to see him straight away, but Winson Green only allowed her to visit one prisoner a day. Men had visits on certain days, the women on others, and it had been difficult finding moments to actually get away, especially now that Ada had gone from Birmingham back to London and would soon be heading for America. 

Clara wrung out her hands over and over again as she waited, tired and nervous after the long delay the prison staff subjected her to, the by now familiar performance they put on over an unaccompanied minor being allowed to visit a dangerous criminal, a known murderer. The men all knew her by now, recognized her name and who she was, and could likely guess who she had come to visit without her having to say it, but they still made her sit and wait, made a bunch of calls around Birmingham claiming a need for some sort of approval. 

She was quite certain at this point it had less to do with any sort of formal approval and more to do with them notifying the great Thomas Shelby that his little sister was at the prison again. Tommy couldn’t get the boys and Polly out of prison, but he still seemed to have some clout with the warden and staff. Clara wasn't happy about it. She took great care in not telling Tommy where she'd be going, dropping her day's schedule to visit John, but there was little to be done about that now.

The guards marched John into the room and Clara's stomach dropped, her muscles involuntarily tightening as she saw the shackles rubbing at his wrists and ankles while he moved towards her. It had been the same with Arthur and Michael, but it made her sick to see John so restricted. John was the one who never stayed put or did as he was told, too free of spirit for cages and chains and rules, tethered to nothing in this world but his family. 

And though Clara was used to seeing him a bit battered from time to time, the markings scattered across his skin bothered her too. All the boys were known to scuffle and there were plenty of fights John had not made it out of unscathed, but it didn't happen so often that the remnants of scrapping became layered, the various scrapes and bruises so clearly earned over a span of time rather than all at once. 

And beyond the chains and the bruises, Clara wasn't used to seeing her brother so subdued. That was something John simply wasn't. The other Shelby boys delved into moments of tranquil contemplation with a certain regularity, but John was rarely quiet and if he contemplated anything, he did it aloud, so each and every person in a three-block radius could hear his opinion on the matter.

So, it could have been any of those things, or about a hundred others, which set Clara off, the sob catching in her throat for a moment before it finally broke through her lips, barely more than the combination of a gasp and a whimper coming out before she caught it. 

John's face fell at the sound, hearing nothing but anguish in the short sound she emitted, a glimpse into the internal world Clara didn't always offer up so willingly. John watched his sister out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the guard to step away and give them some semblance of privacy, though he knew from his other visits that they'd not be allowed any true measure of it. 

He expected his sister to look better. Healthier, more her normal self, but John was met with dull hollow eyes, the skin beneath them dark and puffy. The bruise on her cheek and the fingerprints on her neck were faded, but the yellow tinge of the decaying bruise was still noticeable if you knew where to look. And John did know, had actually spared more time thinking on the marks marring his sister than one would have thought over the last few weeks, especially considering he hadn't even seen the marks to begin with. He had only been told about the nature of her injuries by Polly and Ada.

John forced the corner of his mouth up into a smile as the guard shut them inside, trying not to think too hard on the idea of his sister being there with him, a prison of all places, locked in the small room designated for visits, nothing more than an empty cell, four walls of dingy concrete and metal bars to hold both captive and the sad fool who came to visit them. 

She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes diverted to the floor after seeing too much in those first moments. John wanted her to see his smile though, needed her to see past the bruises and the chains and the uniform so he grabbed her hand, squeezing it once and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. She glanced up then and John was quick to drop her hand before they got shouted at for making contact.

"How are you?" Clara's words came out as little more than a whisper, a shaky breath accompanying them as her eyes tried to stay on his.

"You know me. I'm alright." 

John shrugged and the movement rattled the chains. Clara's eyes broke from his and she studied the rest of him, her eyes still catching all the wrong things that upset her when he first walked in, only now with the clarity of detail – his unshaven face, the bruises and scrapes and dried blood, the tired eyes matching her own.

"You?" he asked, prompting her eyes back to his. 

Clara shook her head, feeling a small spasm within her as she tried to hold it in, reaching up to cover her face with both hands as she felt a tear escape onto her cheek. 

"It's alright," John said, his hand reaching out to pull her hands away from her face. Clara was just out of his reach though, his hands pulled to an abrupt halt by the chains with a small space still between them. He let his hands fall. "You gotta put it in the past. It's done now." 

Clara nodded at his words, wiping at her eyes as she looked to him. She knew it wasn't quite so simple. She had already passed so many tears about what had happened and thought she should have been all cried out by now. If Clara was being honest though, she doubted she would ever truly put any of this in the past. She had a feeling it would be with her for the rest of her life, lurking in her mind, revealing itself at the most troublesome moments. But this visit wasn't about that. It wasn’t about her, or at least Clara didn't want this visit to be about that. 

She wanted it to be about John, about making sure he was well enough, what with his tired eyes and the smile that wasn't quite genuine. 

"I'm scared," she finally said, "for you. All of you. Are you sure you're alright?"

John sighed, his shifting feet once again sending off a rattle of the chains. This was why he didn't let Esme bring the kids to see him. He didn't want them scared for him. Let them be scared of the dark or the mean teacher at school or old ghost stories. He didn't need his his kids scared for their father and he didn’t need his sister scared for him either.

"I'm doing fine, alright?" he said, lifting his arms as if to give her a proper look at him. "I'm all in one piece." 

Clara's eyes still focused on the wrong things though, and John snapped his fingers at her, a characteristic 'Oi!' popping out of the corner of his mouth before his sister's eyes jerked to his. 

"You've been helping Es with the kids?"

Clara quickly nodded, trying to keep her eyes from drifting. She'd been to see Esme almost as often as she was at Arrow House with Charlie. "And the older ones are helping with the little ones." 

"That's all I need to be fine, then. You take care of them and yourself and make sure our brother doesn't do anything too fucking stupid."

Clara sputtered out a laugh. "Which one?"

John took a breath, a nearly genuine smile coming to his lips. "I meant Finn, though I suppose you should keep your eye on Tom, too. I've got Arthur and Michael handled."

It didn’t surprise Clara that he still wanted Tom looked after or that he’d decided on looking after Michael and Arthur. Clara closed her eyes for a moment before meeting her brother's gaze.

"And what about you?"

John shook his head, glancing through the bars to where the guard stood his back to the pair. He took a step and reached forward as much as the chain allowed, grasping Clara and pulling her towards him, grateful when she did the work of wrapping her arms around him before crashing into his chest and burying her face in the crook of his neck

They stayed like that for a long moment, John watching the guard's growing restlessness over Clara's tucked head. The man would turn around to check on them at any moment. John could almost feel it coming so he placed a quick kiss on his sister's head.

"Alright, Clara, that's enough," he said, attempting to nudge his sister a safe distance away, thankful when she stepped back, her deep settling breath hiding none of her concerns and fears as she studied a crack in the concrete.

"Hey," John prompted, drawing her eyes to his for a final time as the guard finally turned towards them. "You listen to me. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, alright?" 

Clara nodded, swallowing as the guard yanked on her brother's arm. 

Clara’s agreement was a lie. They both knew it, but it was a lie John had needed to hear, from his sisters, from Esme, from anyone who offered him a single note of concern. It would help him through the long, empty hours because John couldn't bear the thought of them worrying about something they had no hand in making happen, something they'd have no hand in fixing either. John planned to keep any fear or worry for himself. He could take it, had already been left for dead once before, so all this? This was nothing.

-----

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist