#and it’s making me want to bang my head into a wall

[blueicequeen19]

Drunken State

Warnings: drunk unprotected shower sex between two best friends 🥵

The sudden loud bang coming from the bathroom has you startling awake and throwing your blanket off as you make a beeline for the door. You rush down the hall, finding the door standing open and a drunk JJ struggling in the tub where he’d fallen. He’s collapsed in a fit of laughter, half wrapped in the shower curtain with his shorts around his ankles.

“Dude, seriously?” You chide, shaking your head at him from the door.

“Y/N.. shh.. people are sleeping.” JJ snickers, trying and failing to get up.

“Yea, no shit. Why are you shit faced on a Tuesday?” You grab his arm to help pull him out of the tub.

“Because my girlfriend cheated on me on a Tuesday.” JJ chuckles, tripping over his own feet and crashing into you, pinning you between his body and the wall.

“JJ..” You murmur, your hands flat against the wall as you resist the urge to touch him.

You suck in a breath, your eyes locked on his at the sudden close proximity. His body was pressed firmly against your own, letting you feel every ridge and curve. Especially with his shorts around his ankles and his boxers providing a very thin barrier.

The energy shifts from light and amused to thick and intense. There’s no sign of laughter in the way he stares down at you, licking his bottom lip like he has something to say. You open your mouth to say something, anything, when you feel him hardening against you. Your eyes widen as you feel every inch of him raise to full attention against your stomach.

“You should go.” JJ rasps, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes descend your body. Heat rushes through your veins as you quickly squeeze your thighs together. He wasn’t wrong. You should go.

“I should.” You whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue while his eyes track the movement. Kissing JJ had never sounded like a better idea than in this moment. He was hurting and you were lonely. You were both in need of a distraction that came with an orgasm or two..

“Then go.” The desire in his raspy voice made your stomach flip. His hand came up to grip the back of your neck, arching your neck for him and bringing your mouth closer.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” JJ whispers, his mouth so close to your own that you can practically taste the alcohol on his breath. You find yourself nodding slowly, your legs starting to tremble with need. He leans in closer, ghosting his lips across your cheek before whispering in your ear.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I do.” Your hands move to his waist, feeling the heat of his skin through his boxers as his breath meats your neck.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You admit, feeling his cock press against your stomach.

“Help me shower.” JJ whispers, hooking his thumbs in the waist band of your sleep shorts.

“Why do you need help?”

“I’m drunk. I could drown.” You snort at his words because it’s typical JJ charm but he’s not smiling. Time seems to slow as he strips off the rest of his clothes, fixes the shower curtain, and turns on the water.

When he faces you again, it becomes almost impossible to keep from looking at how hard he was. Was it you? Was it the alcohol? The stress from a long day?

“Strip.” His gruff voice has your thighs clenching as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“JJ..”

“Stop thinking.” JJ rasps, cupping the back of your neck before kissing you hard. You moan against his lips, hands wrapping around his waist until your nails dig into his back. He pulls back just enough to run his tongue over your bottom lip before whispering, “—, and take your fucking clothes off.”

You don’t have to be told twice, yanking off the few articles of clothing you’re wearing before being yanked against his very naked and very hard body. His mouth is on yours again before you can even blink and he’s pulling you into the scolding hot shower.

His fingers slide between your legs at about the same time you wrap your hand around his thick length. A moan slips free as he rubs your clit with teasing touches, leaving you desperate to be filled. You’d never been more turned on in your life.

“This only happens once.” You murmur, stroking him root to tip as his jaw clenches, hair hanging in his eyes.

“For now.” JJ mutters, his fingers circling your entrance until you’re lifting up on your toes and squeezing him harder.

“And we don’t tell the others.” You gasp, arching your hips in a silent plea.

“Then you better be quiet.” JJ growls before shoving two thick fingers inside you and swallowing your cries with a bruising kiss. Your back meets the wall as he fingers you harder, pushing your legs further apart as his palm grinds against your clit.

“JJ, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip as you suck in a breath.

“Not until I’m inside you.” You nearly cum right then, your insides squeezing his fingers desperately as he slows his movements, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I love seeing your desperate for my cock.” JJ growls, removing his fingers to prop your leg open on the edge of the tub. You’re in no position to argue as you reach between your legs and guide him where you need.

“I seem to remember someone just as desperate for me to strip.” You breathe, his hand meeting yours as he helps push inside your tight walls. Your bottom lips quivers as he fills you agonizingly slow until he bottoms out and you can barely breathe. It takes you far too long to realize he hasn’t moved on purpose, intentionally driving you mad.

“Do you need something?” He taunts, leaning in to kiss you and making his cock sink in deeper. You whimper, nails biting into his sides as your walls pulse.

“JJ.” You pant, withering against the shower wall as every last bit of sanity seems to leave you.

“Ask me for it.” JJ smirks, letting his hands find your heavy, aching breasts and tugging on your hardened nipples.

“Please J..” You plead, unable to control the way your body trembles against his. “Please fuck me. Please, J..” Your words trail off on a moan as he withdraws enough to thrust back in hard. His hand clamps down over your mouth, fire in his eyes as he does it again and again. You can’t stop the release that explodes from you, your vision going dark for a period of time before you’re thrown back into your body.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” JJ grunts over the sound of skin on skin. He drives his cock in hard and fast, as one hand fists your hair and the other leaves a bruising grip on your hip. His mouth crashes to yours as you open your mouth to scream, another climax hitting you harder than the first. Your knees grow weak as you dig your nails into his back, holding on for dear life.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, Y/N.” JJ groans, making you clench even harder as you whimper and moan against his lips. A sudden panic clutches you at the thought of him getting you pregnant but you’ve also been on birth control for years and the panic fades as you tighten your grip on his back.

“Don’t stop.” You whisper, moving your lips to his neck and throat, biting and sucking the skin until he cums with a moan only seconds later, dropping his head to your shoulder.

You’d never had sex without a condom before and it was an odd first to share with your best friend. It was also alarmingly hot the way you could feel every pulse of his cock as he emptied inside you. You wanted to do it again and again, even if it meant—

“Yo! Get out of the bathroom!” A booming voice shouts through the door with a loud knock. JJ pulls back, staring at you with as much alarm as you feel when the door is suddenly thrown open anyway.

“Dude, I’m not looking but I have to pee.” Pope groans, following the obvious sound of him urinating in the toilet. You start to smirk at JJ as he shakes his head until he slowly starts to rock his hips, making bite back a whimper at the soreness deep in your pussy. This was wrong.

“Did you just get in?” Pope asks, startling you both again as he takes the world’s longest piss.

“Yea.” JJ grunts, moving his hips faster and coving your mouth with his hand as heat floods your insides even more than before.

“Cool.” There’s a pause as Pope flushes and turns on the sink. “I think I’m gonna ask Y/N out.” Pope announces, making your heart sink as you both stare at each other wide eyed. Oh no.

“Really?” JJ chokes out, looking down to where his cum covered cock is moving in and out of your wrecked pussy.

“Yea. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then the door shuts and you nearly collapse into JJ’s arms as he begins to move harder and faster.

This couldn’t be happening. Not Pope.

The look on JJ’s face told you he wasn’t happy about this either but the need for release was greater than tomorrow’s problems so he kissed you hard as you came again, pushing all thought of Pope and the Pogues to the side.. for now.

[sanakimohara]

Bangchan + Dollhouse by TheWeeknd and Lily-Rose Depp + Yandere 🤭🤭

Like imagine

You wake up in a random persons house, you've been stalked for months, that random person is your stalker. But you can't deny how hot he is. And for a while, he's gentle and makes you fall in love with him, until he introduces you to his friend, Changbin, who you can't deny is almost as hot as Chris, so you talk to him and basically ignore chris. Chris gets jealous and as soon as changbin leaves, he ‘punishes you’ with both rough sex and spanking (i have a spanking kink, spare me pls) and when he's done with everything and you're sleeping, he cries thinking he might of hurt you, you wake up a comfort him with another round. The relationship is messed up, but in front of everyone it's ‘Perfect’ and everyone calls you ‘Barbie and Ken’, but you're more ‘Jocelyn and Tedros’ (the idol ref). You sometimes feel trapped in a ‹Dollhouse› by how you have everything you want, but freedom and being able to talk to without chans supervision.

I know it's probably not your style of writing, but thought I'd request 🤭🤭

[ YOU ] PT.1 B. C.

parking: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KyevYvSoqYDrdBqeAvTZO?si=ZgCCA54dQ7ChyVR2Eg381g

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + DESCRIPTIONS OF BODILY HARM + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + SMUT

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror…

a/n: not my style?!? Love, this is exactly the type of stuff I enjoy writing the most tbh. Also your request definitely reminded me of “The Idol” and ‘You” so…I made this fic as an overlap between both and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

One…Two…Three….Four.

One…

Four walls. …

One door….

One. Two. Three. Four.

One….

Four walls and one door.

You’ve counted them over and over.

You sit in drowning silence, repeating the same numbers to resist the panic rising in your chest from their unfamiliarity.

You’ve never seen these four walls before.

You can’t even begin to remember walking through the door.

Let alone recall how you ended up tied to a bed’s iron-wrought headboard with tape plastered across your mouth to keep a wad of cloth shoved between your lips.

So, you resort to counting.

To repeat the pattern of numbers and halt the tears building in your eyes as the world seems smaller and smaller the longer you count them.

It’s strange.

These four walls and one door are your only comfort in the quiet of a dimly lit room.

It’s the only details you can make out through blurred vision, head fogging with illicit fear as you study them for any clue as to why you’ve been chosen to be within them.

It’s irrational.

Illogical.

But it’s the only thing you can think of to do being in a strange room, restrained and gagged without a clue as to who or why you’ve been put there.

You try to remember. Try to run through the possible events in the last twenty-four hours that’d put you in such an uncanny predicament, but nothing alarming crosses your mind.

There is nothing you can pinpoint as a warning sign you could’ve seen before ending up here.

You woke up, dressed, went to work at the record store until evening, closed the shop, grabbed a bite to eat at the cafe down the street, and then…

And then what?…

You couldn’t get past the point in your train of thought.

You remember the moment you stepped out of the cafe's side entry door and into the small alleyway leading straight to your apartment with a strawberry strudel and cold cream latte in one hand and your phone in the other.

You took one step, turning in the opposite direction of the cafe, finger hovering above the “answer’ button as an unknown caller ID flashed across your phone screen. You meant to answer it, wondering if it was the man who’d come into the record shop looking for a Nirvana vinyl and a pleasant conversation.

What was his name again?

Chan?…

Christopher…?

Wait, no…

Chris!

He’d been the kindest and most invested customer you’d ever met since working in the retrofitted store, insisting that you exchange numbers and plan a time to hang out, listen to records, and maybe discuss opinions on certain bands over a bite-to-eat later on.

You found no harm in taking him up on the innocent offer. Giving a good-looking, genuinely sweet, and apparent music lover your number didn’t seem like a bad idea.

You could barely hold the smile creeping onto your face at the thought of getting a call from him so soon, imagining the drawl of his Australian accent carrying through the phone like pure honey.

You hit ‘answer,’ phone raised to your ear as you began to walk down the brick alley, but the moment your lips parted to speak, a particular smell invaded your nose, and the world went black.

No warning.

No indication.

No recollection.

There was nothing you could grasp from the startling incident that gave a clue as to what happened and why.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your head began to hurt from the effort it took to sift through the distorted memory.

A solemn huff struggled to get past your lips, muffled by cloth and tape but audible enough to crack the silence in the room.

Your hands, wrists, and arms felt heavier. The rope twisted in and around the joints, pulled tight to wrap through the bed’s iron headboard, which swirled into a whimsical pattern. Your legs were left somewhat free, ankles bound by the same rope, but the knot around them was too tight for you to wriggle your feet free entirely.

Each time you tried to wrestle the restraints, they’d dig into your skin, scratching and pressing until lines of red were left.

You gave up squirming when the pain became too much, having let go of the hope that someone would hear your muted screams just before that.

Your heart rate failed to slow, stuck in a perpetual frantic pace as you resorted to counting and crying to yourself for comfort.

For a sense of security in a situation that couldn’t possibly remain secure.

A shroud of defeat hung above you, blanketing you in exhaustion as the numbers rang through your head again.

One. Two. Three. Four….One.

One. Two. Three. Four-

*snap*

*click*

Your counting abruptly ends when you hear the door lock come to life—a sharp sound that sends rivets of caution through your veins. You watch from the bed as the doorknob twists, turns, and clicks open.

*creak…*

The wood cries quietly as it’s pried open, inching with gentle force as a figure steps through it.

“You’re awake….I’m glad.”

Chris smiles, a warmth to his lowered voice that doesn’t entirely match the tension his presence has created in the stuffy room you’re tied up in.

You stare at him, watery eyes wide with confusion and pure fear.

His smile.

His voice.

Those brown eyes of his that you’d sworn looked so sweet, lighting up with recognition when you showed him the record store's Nirvana section. Now, they terrified you as they grazed along your vulnerable position.

A position he’d put you into.

A position you hadn’t expected him, a man so warm and so down to earth yet new to you, to put you in.

Chris saw the wheels turning in your head, reading the tidbits of betrayal bombarding you as the pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to put together for hours finally came together.

He felt…guilty, of course.

He hadn’t meant to take you so quickly. Let alone without getting to know your mind a little better, but he needed a new source of purpose…

A new fix for the addiction many were unaware he had developed after years of denying it himself.

He needed a vice, a project, a doll to mold, a person who would depend on him and only him.

You checked all those boxes. He’d made sure of it. Trailing you for weeks after spotting you closing the record shop one evening on your way to the cafe he’d just left only a moment ago.

Getting rid of a body was never easy. It was a tedious task he rarely did without the help of caffeine in any form he could find, but one look at you had his mind wandering from the burden.

It was almost too perfect, in his opinion.

You were almost too perfect.

You remained on his mind for the next few days. You were the only thing he could ponder while tossing bags of muscle into the ocean in the dark hours of the morning. An itch he couldn’t quite scratch away.

So, against the resolve of his last failure to find someone to hold on to, Chris took an interest in you.

In your day-to-day life.

In the few friends and family you had and kept close.

In the days you went to work.

In the time you spent at the cafe after you’d leave the record shop.

In the specific orders you made.

A toasted strawberry strudel and cold cream latte on Mondays and Sundays.

Pumpkin vanilla cappuccino and lemon cake slice on Tuesday and Thursday.

Oh, but his favorite combination you ordered happened every Friday…

A slice of cake with strawberry filling and a cup of ice cream with extra whipped cream on top.

On those days, he’d watch from afar as your cheeks flushed from every bite of cake and cold cream you’d take. Bits of whipped cream swiped off your lips with a quick pass of your tongue. And that slight smile on your face as you enjoyed the treat always warmed his heart a little more each time he saw it.

You lived alone.

All alone.

A sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to but you do.

Chris couldn’t stand it.

Not the way you walked home all alone each night.

Not the way you stayed at the record store later on some nights to finish your manager’s closing tasks whenever he asked you to.

Which was far too many times for Chris’s liking.

Not the way you’d had to shop for yourself. You were buying smaller portions of groceries only to feed yourself.

Not how you helped anyone, even the rudest customers he’d ever seen when stopped by the record store in search of anything but vinyl records.

Not the way you’d crouch down in the alleyway after those interactions to cry into your hands and try to calm down before returning to work with a smile.

He couldn’t stand it.

Any of it.

Weeks of watching you suffer through a life he could make so much better for you made his headache and his mind numb.

Meeting you in the record store was only supposed to be a soft start to a usual routine he’d perfected over time. A quick interaction, something to ease his desire to have you all to himself. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But seeing your smile up close, hearing your soft voice carry under the sound of the 80s best hits as you led him to the section of records he’d asked to see, did something indescribable to him.

He could’ve waited. He could’ve gone on a few dates that he knew you’d gladly go on with him, but a rare impulse toppled over his logic.

You’d be so much happier if he had you.

He knew it.

He believed it.

And sooner or later, you’d believe it, too.

What’s the harm in making sure you’d believe it sooner?

Chris breathed, steadying himself despite the relief he felt seeing you wide awake and safe right where he had left you.

“Listen,…Y/n…” he stepped closer, eyes drifting around your figure when you began to toss and turn against the bed to scoot further away from him.

To keep him away at all costs.

Chris felt his heart drop, his smile gone, watching your teary eyes dart over him and through the room. Your body shook, your legs pulled close to your chest, and your head pressed back into the headboard.

You were terrified.

He terrified you.

That just wouldn’t do, and Chris stifled his inner doubts and regrets about causing you so much confusion and distress to remedy it in any way he could.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d listen to reason and hear him out.

You seemed like the understanding type.

A girl who could see another’s perspective without offering harsh judgment.

Chris was sure of it, though you looked utterly terrified of him now, if he was careful enough…

You’d have no choice but to understand.

“Listen,” he smiled at you, rounding the bed in three swift steps and kneeling at its left edge as you tried to curl closer to the right one.

He sighed, trying not to take your reluctance to be near him to heart, but the silent sobs that barely made it past your gag annoyed him to some degree.

Did you think he’d hurt you?

Him?

The one who’d made it his life’s new purpose to protect you at all costs would plan on hurting you when he’d only just gotten his hands on you?

Chris felt the frown on his lips, unable to retrain his disappointment in your behavior. Still, the disapproving expression he held lasted for less than seconds before he softened into a kinder one.

“Listen… I’m not going to hurt you. I know you must be so scared right now, sweetheart, and that’s fine.”

He straightened up, raising his arms to fold on the bedsheets. His shoulders tightened underneath the black shirt he wore, and he took a deep, elongated breath through his nose.

You watched him, struggling to see him as the same man you’d met in the record store. From the beginning, he’d been a stranger, a new face of kindness that mirrored your own, but now your mind couldn’t fathom what to think of him.

A dryness settled in the back of your throat, adding to your jaw ache and the soreness blooming through each of your tied limbs.

You were in pain.

He was putting you through so much pain, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

And you still had a little faith in his promise, believing the sick irony of it for the sake of internal hope.

Chris raised his head, strands of blonde hair falling over those eyes you couldn’t help staring into. “You can be afraid of me, baby. I know you are, and that’s fine, but know I’m doing this for you…” He paused, letting a wry laughas his lips pulled into a smile you barely saw when he lowered his head again.

Your nerves vibrated with anxiety, his sudden silence setting you on edge and bringing tears right back to your tired eyes.

Chris looked up, hearing you crying again, brows furrowing with irritation and concern. “Don’t cry.” The command hangs in the air, crisp and direct. You flinch hearing it, put off by the gentle raise of his voice and his abrupt movement to stand up and lean over the bed’s edge.

You shift away from him, holding back the tears that beg to fall from your eyes, fearing that disobeying his demand won’t end well for you.

“Crying won’t change anything for you.” He inches closer, a knee dipping into the mattress as his left-hand reaches to cup your face. You jerk your head back at his touch, ignoring the slight pain hitting it against the headboard causes but failing to avoid his touch when he weaves his fingers through your hair and tugs to hold you in place.

It hurts.

The pressure he inflicts onto your scalp leaves you complacent and strained.

You go still, shivering underneath his looming body heat as he drapes his head over yours.

Blonde locks tickle the bridge of your nose and forehead, shifting as his brows raise and his thickly accented voice pierces the room's defeating silence.

“You’re a smart girl, yeah?..”

You nod in a daze, throat too dry to scream, head too sore to think, and heart racing too fast for you to decide if fear or attraction to him was taking over you.

You hoped it was the latter.

Otherwise, you’d already begun to lose your mind.

Chris smirked, studying the way your pupils dilated on him.

There it is.

The sign he’d been longing to see since he’d walked into the room and found you awake.

A small, familiar, and telling indication of submission.

“Yeah, you are…” he scoffs, eyes drifting to the tape plastered across your face, noting the subtle lines of drool beginning to slip from under it and down your chin.

Your chest heaved as you inhaled a sharp breath through your nose, choking on a sob that dwindled into a whimper for mercy.

For his mercy.

His pity.

Anyway you could get it, use it, and beg for it.

Your desperation.

You wanted him to see it written across your face and in every painful sound you made.

But Chris looked right past it, heard none, and continued leering you into his web of little white lies.

“Then you understand why I’m doing this to you? Why I have to keep you safe like this? Why you have to stay and do as I say?..”

You don’t move. You are not giving him a nod or a flutter of your lashes that’ll resonate in agreement.

Because you disagree.

You’re helpless, scared, and condemned.

But your pride and need for survival hang on by a thread, so you refuse to feed into him more than you have to.

You defy him.

Chris waits. He waits for a moment to see if you’ll give an inch to his established mile, and when you don’t show any sign of doing so, he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“So….that’s how you’re going to be…” he sighs, frowns present as he loosens the hand gripping your hair to trail it down to the nape of your neck. You jolt at the feeling of his large and rough hand meeting your bare skin, applying pressure right below the crown of your head as he holds you still.

“I bet this is hurting you, huh?” Chris hums, a genuine flicker of sympathy flashing across his face as he lifts his free hand to trace over the duct tape plastered across yours. “Why don’t I help you, hm? Get this off your pretty mouth and let you answer me…”

Your eyes widen, and your head tosses in his hold the second his pointer and thumb grasp a corner of the tape and pull it from your skin.

Chris rips the sticky plastic from your face as if it were a simple bandage over a healed wound, and you cringe hard at the ruthless action. A half-formed scream, tears from your still stuffed mouth turning into frantic cries as he forces you to stay still through the searing pain.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” He comments passively, pulling the wad of cloth between your aching lips and tossing it onto the bed with the discarded tape.

You cough, your throat is burning, and your jaw is hurting as you try to grit your teeth and speak to him, but your voice is inaudible.

Stripped away from all the pointless screaming and crying you’d done for god knows how long.

He smiles at your attempt to curse and yell at him, his head shaking mockingly as he passes a thumb over your trembling lips. “Shh shhh shhh…just listen to me, sweetheart,” he coos, and you groan in defeat as he repeats his earlier question.

“You understand why I’m doing this to you, right? That it’s not safe for you out there. Not without me there to help you…say you understand, and I’ll take away the pain you’re feeling right now.”

You stare at him, failing to maintain a glare from the strain your mind and body is in.

It would help your sanity if you said no.

Shake your head and build up the courage and will to fight him with all you have, but numbness drags you into a state of complicit survival.

A need to appease him and hopefully garner some relief from your physical exhaustion.

Your lips part but then snap shut when a sharp ache flares in your jaw.

Chris’s face softens completely when he sees the minuscule instance of pain you’re in. “You don’t have to talk if it hurts. Nod for me instead….just like that,” he soothes you in a hushed tone, smiling as you obediently nod your head.

“Atta’ girl…” he praises, a smile slowly forming again as you whine quietly, shutting your eyes tight, letting the few tears you have left pour down your reddened cheeks.

You can’t speak, and you have no freedom to move or motivation to call for help.

And part of you doesn't want to anymore.

Part of you sees no point in doing so.

What’s the point in fighting him when you can barely speak or move a muscle without strain.

Without feeding into his demented perception of your need for him.

It’s odd—feeling defeated but strangely aware of the caring nature of a man who's forced you into such a miserable state.

Chris breathes a sigh of relief, nose nudging against yours as he hums lowly while breathing you in.

Breathing in your desperation.

Your dependence.

Your fear.

Your innocence.

He takes everything you have to offer him, his mind racing with ways to use it against you…

To help you, his newly shattered doll, piece yourself together again.

The correct way.

His way.

a/n: This’ll be a 4 pt series and my prime event for the spooky season. Btw…fiction is fiction and this fic has pretty extensive and extreme themes in it so please don’t continue to read it if any of the plot/context makes you uncomfortable. I don’t tend to hold back on darker themed fics and this one won’t be any different so please keep that in mind.

other links: n/a (might go up on AO3 later)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

[augustus-hater]

Narumitsu makes me so bonkers. Everytime I think about them, I want to bang my head against the wall repeatedly and scream like I have been shot in the right shoulder.

[spidermasc]

🦌➜ 🔞 ﹒﹒i bite at the hand that feeds me

synopsis: you're in heat and lottie offers to help you. repost, werewolf!reader, transfem!lottie, smut, use of the word puppy.

"i can help you."

you hear lottie's low voice from behind you as you lay on your side on the floor, gripping the blankets with so much force that it begins to tear at one end. even the sound of her voice has you clenching your thighs together, and you feel your body flush with heat. you slowly open your eyes and gulp hard, turning around shakily as you look at lottie.

there's a ghost of a smirk on her face as she sees how sweaty and unkempt you look. it's day 3 of your heat and you haven't gotten off at all. not even rubbing up against something to alleviate the pain. it's killing you. every small touch and the scent wafting from one of the girls as they pass you has you leaking from your groin. your underwear is ruined and it's a sticky mess between your thighs. it gets lottie off seeing you like this. all she can think about is being the savior and helping you with your problem.

"i want you to use me. you can't keep denying it. you need to let it out. waiting until your heat is over is just gonna make things worse," she bends down until she's level with you and reaches out a consoling hand, brushing it against your chin and barely concealing her grin at how you whine pathetically. "do you want to use my cock? would that make you feel better?"

all you can give her is a nod, mouth wide open and eyes staring stupidly at her.

"good puppy. follow me."

she helps you up, the stench of your arousal filling her nose as you remove the blankets and she feels herself get lightheaded already. her cock is already half-hard by the time you two reach the attic and as she starts climbing up the ladder, a face full of her ass in view, you lose it. you're tugging her down in an instant and pulling her flush against you, rutting into her ass from behind and shoving her up the ladder.

lottie beams as you use her body to get off, reaching her hands back to steady herself on your hips. she bites her lip at how rough and greedy you are, not a care in the world as you bruise her sides and scratch up and down her stomach. "that's it—shit—don't be afraid to touch me elsewhere."

the second you get consent, you're ripping her pants off and flipping her around, allowing her cock to spring free before you're grabbing it and rubbing it over your messy folds. you both groan at the contact and lottie wraps her arms around your neck to play with the hairs on your nape, her hot breath stuttering against your cheek when she accidentally slips inside.

"oh, fuck," lottie rasps, her head banging back onto the wooden ladder. you feel so warm and tight around her, your hole throbbing uncontrollably as you try to find a rhythm. "here, let me…" she mumbles, peeling you off her body so she can switch your positions so now you're bent over the ladder and she's behind you with her cock in hand.

you growl and back your ass up into her cock, getting impatient with how empty you are after having felt something inside of you after all these days. lottie gasps at the sudden aggression but welcomes it and leans her forehead against your back as she thrusts into you, leaving tiny kisses across your spine.

it lasts 5 rounds before she realizes just how insatiable you are in your heat. you've been on top of her milking her cock dry for the past 3 rounds and she can do nothing but lie there and take it.

lottie feels your walls try to swallow her cock whole and her jaw goes slack, not finding any more strength inside of her to lazily push you off. her eyes roll back until only the whites are visible as you continue to ride her, your drool flying everywhere as you grunt and whine.

"thank you, lott. thank you, thank you, thank you…" you babble, feeling her twitch inside your hole at your praising. no cum spurts out of her cock anymore, but you're quite the opposite. you can't stop cumming. it's like lottie set off a chain of reactions and you're gonna cum until your heat is over. you've heard from other werewolves that it could last up to 7 days, and it's only been 3 for you.

"make it up to you after, i promise. i owe you for taking care of me."

for @xxz0mb1esl4yrxx and @mommylottie

[666anxiety666]

May I ask for a Pressure tickle fic? Where the player / y/n is a 16 year old (In my country if your 15 ur legally go to jail, and the 16 yr old committed a crime in self defence) and Sebastian noticing the anxiety, pressure (pun inteended) and paranoia he decides to cheer the kiddo up to make em feel like a child again and just melt away their worries? So basically Lee 16 yr old Y/n and a Big Ler snake that gives off HUGE older brother vibes

That's such a cute prompt, omg 😭

Tickle monster

Sebastian and TEEN reader

LEE: Y/N LER: Sebastian

Warnings: none :)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Ever since you had been sent down here, Sebastian hasn't let you leave his shop without him. You don't blame him. You wouldn't go out on your own anyway. A sixteen year old should never have been in a place like this to begin with.

Sure, it got boring, and yeah, maybe at first Sebastian claimed he was only protecting you cause, "he had to." But over time, you and him have become quite close, like a sibling kind of way...

However, as of recently, your anxiety and paranoia has gotten worse. Ever small nosie made you jump. You always hid behind Sebastian when a new expendable came down. You were never away from Sebastian, always clinging to him.

Currently, you and Sebastian were getting ready for bed. You always slept with Sebastians tail curled around you. But on this "night," you couldn't sleep.

Your eyes darted all over the place, your heart rate picking up as you head what must have been one of the anglers, banging on a wall in the distance. Sebastian opened one of his three eyes and glanced at you.

"Don't worry, kid. They do that all the time... just try to drown it out, yeah?"

But you couldn't. every noise made you jump. You were scared. You shouldn't even be here to begin with. You wanted to go home... Sebastian noticed your fear and worry.

"Come on, kid. You've got nothing to worry about..."

But Sebastian's words did little to ease your fear. Sebastian sighed. He turned around to face you fully. His tail is still wrapped around you.

"What can I do to help you calm down?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. You shrugged shyly. Sebastian sighed again. He rested his cheek in the palm of his hand as he thought of what to do.

"Come on, kid. There's gotta be something..."

Sebastian poked your side as he said this. You jumped at the poke. Letting out a small squeak. Sebastian paused, raising an eyebrow. Then, it hit him. A massive grin spreading on his face

Yours blood ran cold, and you instantly tried to get up to run. But Sebastian's tail kept you down. You struggled. But it was too late.

"Oh no, kid. You ain't escaping... the tickle monster!"

Sebastian cackled. Latching onto your sides, raking his claws up and down. You squealed, kicking your legs desperately.

You grabbed at his wrists and tried to shove him off. But it was no use. Sebastian moved his third hand to your tummy. You squealed louder.

"Look at you, squealing like a little school girl~"

Sebastian teased. You tried to pull your way out of Sebastian's grasp, but it was useless.

"Aw, how cute! You think you can stop me? You think the tickle monster shows mercy to kids like you?"

Sebastian exaggerated. Moving his hands up to your ribs. Your laughter got louder. kicking your legs harder against the floor.

"Say... im quite hungry... how many ribs do kids like you have, hm?"

Your heart dropped. You tried to push him away, but it was no use. You begged, but your pleas fell of deaf ears.

"One..~ two..~ three..~"

Sebastian started to "count." Wiggling his fingers at each rib as he did. It tickled so badly. You kicked and squirmed harder.

"Come on, kid! You made me lose count! Now I have to start all over!"

Sebastian exclamied before starting his "counting" from the beginning. This went on for what felt like forever. Your squeals and belly laughter filling the shop as Sebastian would restart at every struggle you made.

"Ugh, you know.. if I can't have get at your tasty ribs... maybe I'll have to try something else...!"

Sebastian then pretended to start "eating" your stomach. Blowing raspberries and making munching sounds.

Your face flushed. This was so childish. But you couldn't escape. You were stuck. You kicked and squealed. Shoving at Sebastian's head.

Soon, after what felt like an eternity. Sebastian backed off.

"Man... I think I've had my fill..."

Sebastian grinned as he backed off. Leaving you panting and giggling. You hugged your stomach slightly. You're face bright red for laughing. Sebastian chuckled, ruffling your hair gently.

"You good kid?"

Sebastian asked. You nodded. Pushing your hair out of your face. Sebastian chuckled once more.

"See? Told you everything was fine. You just need a good tickle every now and then."

Sebastian joked as he poked your side one last time. You yelped and giggled. Sebastian smirked and lay back down.

"Okay, okay, I'm done.."

Sebastian mumbled. You also lay back down. Resting against Sebastians tail. Sebastian pulled a blanket over you before wrapping his third arm over your shoulder.

You felt your eyes droop. You were tired. Not only from today's work, but all that tickling you went through. Sebastian smiled slightly.

"I've got you, kid..."

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Thank yall for the requests‼️ I have two more fics coming🙌

[nylibrty]

wus good / curious ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 breanna stewart x rival!reader

「summary」 getting stuck in an elevator with your rival ends in unexpected ways

「cw」 smut. a lot of yap, semi-public sex, choking(??), hate sex

「notes」 elevator fic.. rushed ending my bad...

you were already in a bad mood. it was a blowout game, 98-72, your rival team winning. so when you walked down the long concrete hallways of barclays and saw the only elevator quickly closing, the anger inside you only bubbled.

from your distance, you could only make out the figure of a tall person standing in the elevator. "hey! wait—hold the door!" you shouted, picking up your pace as you approached the doors.

relief washed over you as you saw a hand poke through the closing doors to open them once more. that relief was quickly taken away from you as you saw just who exactly opened the door.

"you've got to be kidding me." you groaned under your breath.

breanna stewart—your career long rival—was standing there, a smug smirk coming across her face as she watched you walk in. "not too hurt after that loss, right?" she grinned, raising her eyebrow.

your sour mood returned just as fast as it left, thanking god you were only forced to stand so close to her for the short elevator ride. "shut up, stewart." you retort, forcing yourself into the furthest corner from her.

she let out a breathy laugh, returning to looking at whatever was on her phone.

the ride was going smoothly, you were practically counting down the seconds until you could get the hell out of this elevator and catch a cab to your hotel. the storm outside raged on, it scared you slightly, but you could never show fear to something so silly in front of your rival.

the one that you fucking despised.

the elevator shook slightly, causing breanna's head to shoot up. It abruptly stopped with a loud bang and the shaking of the elevator cab. then it went pitch black, only being slightly illuminated by the emergency light in the corner, it was small and only glowed blue.

"oh you've got to be fucking kidding me right now." you sighed, a little louder than you wanted, breanna took a step closer to you.

"no way you're scared right now," she laughed.

"how are you not?!" you let your head fall back against the metal walls of the small elevator.

"it's just the storm, it happens all the time." she shrugs, tapping the red emergency call button. but to her dismay, it didn't make the beeping noise it normally did. she gulped, fumbling her phone into her pants pocket to attempt to hit the button again. but once again, nothing happened.

"do something!" you shouted at her.

"what the fuck do you want me to do? i pressed the button!"

"i don't know, stewart! just fucking fix it so i don't have to be here with you anymore," you groaned, desperate to get out of this tiny elevator.

she scoffed, crossing her arms and stalking towards you. "how is this my fault? its not my fault your team lost."

"no, actually, it is your fault we lost. you blocked me like 50 times," you argued back. as much as you were angry at her, you couldn't help but clench your thighs together. her impossibly calm demeanor and the soft blue light glowing on her made her stupidly attractive.

"you shouldn't be so easy to block." she laughed, raising her eyebrows slightly at you.

you groaned again, only getting more annoyed by her cockiness. "i fucking hate you stew—"

and before you could finish your sentence, you felt her lips crash against yours, her slim hand finding your hair. she pulled away from you, light blue eyes looking into yours, "is this okay?" she asked, her hand still laced in your hair.

"please, stewart," you whined, your hands running down her body, attempting to grab wherever you could. before you knew it, her lips were smashing into yours once more. she overwhelmed your senses. she tasted like something was so uniquely breanna, but also of vanilla and citrus. she smelled overwhelmingly like men's cologne, almost intoxicatingly so. one of her hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing it slightly while the other tugged your hair.

you two sat there for a moment, fully immersed in one another. breanna pulled away, out of breath, "if you're loud, i'll stop." she said firmly, her hand traveling down to the button of your jeans. with ease, she popped the button open and slid the zipper down. you whimpered at the feeling of her long, cold fingers dipping into your panties and swiping through your folds.

"somebody's excited, hm?" she teased, feeling how impossibly wet you were. you turned your head away, letting it fall gently back against the metal wall. her hand found your chin, cupping it lightly and moving your head to look at her once more.

"keep your eyes on me." her fingers dipped into your soaked cunt, sliding in easily. you struggled to hold back the moan that was forming in your throat, letting it slip. her free hand was brought up to your face, two fingers pressing on your lips, begging for entrance. you parted your lips slightly, surprised to feel her pointer and middle finger press down on your tongue.

she raised her eyebrow, "what did i say about being quiet?" you attempted to come up with a response, but were unable to say anything back due to her fingers in your mouth. she slipped them further into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly.

the pace of her fingers inside you sped up while her thumb circled tightly across your clit. you struggled to moan around her fingers, successfully keeping you quiet. she leaned into you, and you felt her hot breath against your ear while her fingers kept up a relentless pace. her other hand was snugly against your mouth, fingers deep in the back of your mouth which only added to the arousal.

a part of you hated that you were giving yourself to your rival so damn easily, but the other part knew that this was coming sooner than later. you two could feel the sexual tension every time you had a game, and you were sure as hell everybody else could, too.

you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, her fingers moved impossibly fast, and you weren't gonna last much longer. your fingers weaved in her hair, tugging slightly. to your surprise, a small moan left her throat when you did that. you grinned at that, tugging again but harder and recieving an even louder moan in the process.

"i thou—fuck—thought i was the one who was supposed to be quiet." you grinned, still teasing her even if shes knuckle deep inside you.

"shut up," she thrusted her fingers faster into you, throwing you off the edge and head first into your orgasm. your nails clawed down her white tank top as you rode out the climax.

"doin' so good for me babygirl," she mumbled against your ear, not letting up on her pace.

as if the elevator knew, the red emergency button began to beep rapidly. breanna removed her fingers, licking them clean before walking over to the set of buttons.

"are you just gonna pretend like that didn't happen?" you frowned.

"do you still want to be in this damn elevator?"

she made a good point. while she talked to the responder through the small speaker, you stood and watched her. maybe the feelings you had towards her weren't only anger and hatred.

after what felt like forever, the cab began moving again, and you two were being pulled out of the elevator by two firefighters.

"do you wanna.. uhm, come home with me?" she asked sheepishly.

[ughgoaway]

What was it like when neighbor Matty and girlie met 🤭

-Belle <3 <3 (love u)

omg, my beloved belle!!! good question my love

Ooooh okay, so I think you first see each other on move-in day. you're lugging box after box upstairs, pink-cheeked and sweaty in a way that makes you look like you're on mile 25 of a marathon. Wou were expecting to be able to use the lift, but there's a sign on it that says “broken until further notice” and judging by the dust that covers the paper, it's been that way for a long time.

You're dragging the last box across the floor when a man dressed in all black with curls peeking out the hood dragged over his head strolls into the building, he spares a glance at you and smiles, adjusting the headphones that sit on his ears. Despite them being plugged into his iPod, you can hear the heavy bass and mumbled lyrics in the room just because of how loud it's blasting in his ears.

He strolls past you carelessly, walking up to the lift and pressing the button. You go to grab his shoulder and tell him it's broken, but before you can the lift dings, and the doors slide open. You watch in frustrated shock as he strolls in, pressing the door close button and shooting you a wink a few seconds before they click closed. you don't take the final box up the lift out of principle, but by floor 3 you're wondering if you have any principles left or if you've sweat them all out.

But you don't count that as your first meeting, because neither of you spoke, the actual first time you met was under unfortunate circumstances.

Matty being a bartender means he really has no concept of other people's less nocturnal schedules, so when he comes home at 4 am from a shift, he doesn't hesitate to turn on the radio and clang around his kitchen making a grilled cheese.

As soon as the radio clicks on you roll your eyes and flip over in bed, dragging your pillow over your ears as you do. You try to let it go, not wanting to be that annoying neighbour on day one of moving in, but when he drops a pan on the floor and it makes an ear-shattering bang, you can't help but roll out of bed and storm over. You knock furiously on his door, gradually banging louder and louder when he can't hear you over the nirvana he’s blaring.

Eventually, the door creeks open, and Matty doesn't hesitate to look you up and down, silently judging your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas with a smirk. It's then you realise the hot mystery stranger from earlier just happens to be your neighbour, and a shitty one already.

Your eyes widen briefly at the sight of him, but they soon settle into a scowl Matty grows to know all too well. You huff lightly before speaking, “Look, maybe your last neighbour was more cool than me, or half dead, but would you be able to turn your music down a bit? It's 4am and I've only just finished unpacking. i'd like to sleep without Kurt Cobain screaming at me through the wall”

Luckily the man whose name you don't yet know nods, not dragging his eyes away from your exposed legs before he speaks. “‘Course love. Don't wanna stop you getting your beauty sleep, do I, princess?” his familiar smirk falling over his face once again. Maybe it was endearing the first few times, but at this point, you kind of want to smack it off his smug face. 

“Thanks. princess,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you walk back to your apartment, acutely aware of his eyes on your ass as you stroll. You turn back to catch him in the act, but his stare doesn't falter when you spin around, instead, he nods at you and winks just like he had earlier on, clicking his tongue before slipping back into his apartment. You stay frozen for a few seconds, but the gradual turning down of smells like teen spirit brings you back to earth, finally able to hear your thoughts again. It's then and there you knew he’d be trouble, and you didn't like that you couldn't quite figure out how you felt about that.

[lesbiansanemi]

I wish there was a way to communicate how overstimulated kids make me and how much I really wish I could reliably be in public spaces without hearing large families/children being insanely loud without sounding like one of those freaks that thinks children should be banned from public spaces

[dootznbootz]

Penelope is also Athena's pet/blorbo/special little mortal/etc. and if you think otherwise you're straight up wrong.

You're also wrong if you think Athena only likes Penelope because of Odysseus and/or Telemachus. As if Athena didn't see a young Penelope pull some shit and immediately think "Oh! Another mind to mold! C'mere you! Let's do some riddles and weaving!". Athena was happy that two of her favorite pets have met and fell in love!

[piastrion]

a reminder that this video exists

[freckles-dean]

They are the cutest and no, I will not take criticism

[transmascutena]

when someone comes out of episode 31 and 32 still believing nanami is in love with touga

[mushroomsie224]

Still struggling.

[evermoredeluxe]

.

[tanadrin]

Der Spiegel has an article talking about whether the AfD should be banned outright, and it's like... I don't think you can ban a party that is currently polling at almost a quarter of the electorate for extremism, and pretend that you can just keep conducting politics as normal after that! They have like a third of the seats in the Saxon Landtag! Purely aside from the civil libertarian concerns (which are grave), your political leadership has clearly failed on a massive scale if your only response to that kind of reactionary wave in your politics is to ban the bad guys, and then pretend like mainstream politics is fine and nothing needs to change.

(And no, the answer is not, as Scholz and others seem to believe, to try to outflank them by becoming similarly reactionary on key issues like immigration. There are in fact options besides "ban the reactionaries" and "become the reactionaries"! But those other options might require confronting why the biggest parties in German politics are so sclerotic, and why people are so dissatisfied with them in the first place.)

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

no but fucking really. "i'd love to get your thoughts. let me know if there's anything you disagree with--i won't take it out, but i'm more than happy to tell you where you're wrong ;)" versus "yeah. mm, yeah. yes; sorry, sorry. um. yeah. ......i just want you to like it. ...i'll leave you be." makes me. fucking. OUGH

trent, confident and playful, telling them he's happy to correct them if they disagree with anything he's written versus him anxiously awaiting ted's approval and actively seeking it out, nervous, eager in a sort of rattled anxious way. the confidence versus the hesitancy, the independence versus the want for ted to like it, like him.

and then ted giving him a word of praise and a word of criticism in one--that it's a good book but it shouldn't be called 'the lasso way'--and trent takes it. i honestly think he does disagree, but instead of "telling ted where he's wrong"--maybe just out of respect for what he wants, trust for his opinion--he changes the title. what he said he wouldn't do. for ted. what if i wailed and screamed