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#and now i just hope the people who always showed me kindness when i needed them stay safe and healthy now 💖
tayytayy12 · 2 days
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From the start | LN4 x Reader
Summary - Reader and Lando have been best friends for years, but reader slowly develops feelings for him, and didn’t want to tell him in fear that he wouldn’t feel the same and it would ruin their friendship forever, so she releases a song indirectly telling him everything, not knowing he’d always felt the same.
Warnings - Swearing
Type - SMAU
FaceClaim - Laufey
Requested - yes - no
Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 4,927,290 others - Posted 01.02.24
Yourusername - Studio sesh 😙
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User1 - OMG OMG OMG OMG
User2 - DOES THIS MEAN NEW MUSIC SOON ?!??!?
GracieAbrams - 💛
Yourusername - đŸ€
User3 - She’s so adorable
User4 - Y/n I need whatever you made in that studio like right now pls
User5 - Oh Y/n I fear I can already tell you’ve ate
LandoNorris - HELLO WHY DIDNT I KNOW OF THIS ?
User6 - the first time she hasn’t told Lando something
Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, TaylorSwift and 5,100,104 others - Posted 20.02.24
Yourusername - Surprise !!!!!!! My brand new single, ‘from the start’ is out right now! Along with its music video, written and directed by yours truly 😙 this song is unlike anything I’ve ever released before, it’s a complete and true raw reflection of all of my emotions, and I hope you love it like I do. I love you, enjoy đŸ€
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User7 - OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
User8 - KNEW Y/N ERA INCOMING
User9 - THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING WHAT
User10 - The music video is so fun and goofy but somehow so deep at the same time, I love it sm 😭
User11 - Y/N WHO IS THIS ABOUT
User12 - FR SAME
User13 - YES LIKE, WHOS GOT OUR GIRL WRITING WHOLE ASS LOVE CONFESSIONS
User14 - Literally my new favourite song
User15 - Okay this is so about Lando
User16 - Girl what ?😭
User17 - I see their point, the lyrics point to all things that they’ve said about their friendship
User18 - Like what? 😭
User19 - Like ‘Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah’ Y/n has said so many times that sometimes Lando just sits there and says everything about the new girl he’s talking too and it bores her to death, I’d say that’s good enough proof 😭
Y/n.Nation
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Liked by - User20, LandoNorris and 83,290 others - Posted - 23.02.24
Tagged | @/Yourusername
Y/n.Nation - Y/n was the guest on the Jimmy Fallon show last night !!!! She debuted from the start with its first ever live performance, then done her interview where she revealed that her new hit is about someone very very close and personal to her, her words were-
“From the start for me, is like a one of those letters that people write and throw into the fireplace just to get their emotions out there, but instead of writing a letter and throwing it into a fire I wrote a song and gave it to my fans. Which for me is kind of the same thing, they’re incredibly supportive and loving and I couldn’t be more grateful for them, every single one of them I love with my whole heart. This song is about something that I’ve been keeping to myself for maybe ten years now? Since I was still really young. God that makes me sound old, but it’s about someone I’ve known and been extremely close to since I was a child. And I think when you’re so close with someone, feelings like the one I’ve presented in the song can completely ruin a friendship if they’re unrequited, but the other day I decided it was time for me to ‘man up’ as my mum would say, and I went to the studio, I wrote and recorded the song and shot the video, and I just released it and I let my music do the talking. I’ve still not heard anything from the person I’ve aimed it too, so if I don’t get one I suppose that’s my answer to my ‘confession of love’ that I brought up at least seven times in the song.”
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User21 - Y/n told me she loves me
User22 - I’m crying this is so cute but a teeny bit sad at the same time
User23 - She actually lets us read her diary đŸ„Č
User24 - Oh it’s so about lando đŸ„Č
User25 - It’s so obvious I’m gonna cry
User26 - LANDO ANSWER HER RN
User27 - ‘Since I was really young’ she really has loved him from the start
User28 - Okay this relationship is a need now please
User29 - same it’s not even a joke anymore
User30 - Lando it’s in your hands now do the right thing
User31 - LANDO LIKED THAT HAS TO BE GOOD
LN.Updates
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Liked by - Yourusername, user32 and 89,191 others - Posted - 25.02.24
Tagged | @/LandoNorris
LN.Updates - Lando on a podcast recently!!! He never addresses Y/n by name, but I think we’d be right in assuming that’s who’s he’s talking about
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User33 - MY LANY/N HEART HAS BEEN GROWING THIS PAST WEEK
User34 - I need someone who looks at me the way Lando looks whenever Y/n is mentioned
User35 - WE ALL DO
User36 - HE FEELS THE SAME HE FEELS THE SAME
User37 - Y/N LIKED OMGGG
User38 - Gonna die
User39 - I need them together right now
User40 - All the Lany/n haters right now are hiding
User41 - As they should be
LandoNorris
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Liked by - Yourusername, OscarPiastri and 2,008,99 others - Posted - 22.04.24
Tagged | @/yourusername
LandoNorris - Just thinking of youuuuu đŸ€đŸ€
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User42 - EVERYBODY WAKE UP LANY/N HAS BEEN CONFIRMED
User42 - SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
User43 - RIP ME
User44 - WHY THE FUCK DID IT TAKE YOU TWO MONTHS TO CONFIRM THIS
LandoNorris - We was in a funny mood, we’ve been together since the day after that podcast đŸ« 
User45 - SHUT THE FUCK UP
User46 - So, before the even confirmed their relationship, they’ve been on a boat trip, she’s been to races, AND they’ve gone to the beach while we all through that they wasn’t together
User47 - The from the start lyrcis đŸ˜©
Yourusername - That was a great coffee
LandoNorris - I made a cute hard launch post and you focus on the coffee you had over a month ago?
Yourusername - It was a really good coffee đŸ„Č
LandoNorris - I’ll buy you more
Yourusername - I love youuu đŸ„Č
LandoNorris - I love you more đŸ€
User48 - I’m going to sleep on the highway
Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 2,991,295 others - Posted 22.04.24
Tagged | @/LandoNorris
Yourusername - When I say from the start, I really mean it đŸ€
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User49 - This is the kind of love I NEED.
LandoNorris - I love you, I always have
Yourusername - Funny, I could say that same thing. I love you so much more
LandoNorris - Impossible
User50 - This is why I wish my mum had a best friend with a son, cause this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
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newwillinium · 1 day
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The Great Khans and the Tribes of Zion/Honest Hearts
So I noticed this a few nights ago when I was trying to decide what route to go for my newest Fallout New Vegas character, and I noted something that I don't think many people have really ever clicked on.
-][-
The Great Khans, in Fallout New Vegas, are written as stand-ins for Native Americans.
Hear me out.
They are a people who have been pushed east out of their ancestral homelands time and time again, later finding a home for themselves in the Mojave. They warred with other native tribes, Mr House and what would become the Families, and then later were subject to a brutal attack on their civilians which led them to be stuck on land that was their own but was sparse in resources and are unable to meaningfully fight back against the rising Imperialistic powers of Mr House and the NCR (President Aaron Kimball later referencing and using the same "Sea to Shining Sea" rhetoric as the United States did during the Great Western Expansion, at Hoover Dam).
But what really clicked this for me was that, in the NCR ending where the Great Khans ally with the New California Republic, they are once more kicked off of their land and are sent off to a far off distant Reservation.
After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the Great Khans returned for a time to Red Rock Canyon. The NCR's pressing need to expand proved greater than its promise of amnesty, and before long the government decided the Khans had to go. The surviving Great Khans were relocated to an isolated, barren reservation, well north of NCR trade routes
Sounds really familiar right?
And looking at the Great Khans within this context, really reframes the context of their raiding and deep bitter anger that the Elder Khans like Papa Khan and Oscar have against the NCR.
Colonization is an ugly brutal thing, and it is also a complex one.
Like the Great Khans in New Vegas, many Native American tribes ending up raiding American citizens as a way to fight back, to strike against a rising imperialistic threat that was eager and willing to grind them against their heel, to kill their culture and bring all under the American Empire.
They fought, raided, begged, pleaded, sent letters to congress, lobbied Congress and the President and the Director of Indian Affairs, even as the infinitely more wealthy and powerful United States (even just off of the weary years of Civil War) did little to nothing to step the Westward push and actively allowed it's military to perform as it may on and off orders to get the natives off of land that had once been promised to them but was now deemed too valuable for a mere treaty to hold any sway.
And to bring this back to the actual conversation I want to have, is that I wanted to state this realization of mind in order to contrast it with another example from the exact same game.
The Dead Horses, Sorrows, and White-Legs of Honest Hearts.
Where as the Great Khans are treated with a kind of weary respect, of a people crushed beneath the wheels of a infinitely more powerful empire, struggling to find hope in a FUTURE for their people and culture, the Dead Horses and Sorrows and White-Legs are. . .honestly written with far less respect in my eyes.
The Sorrows are being actively converted by a White Savior in Daniel, who sees it as his burden to show these "innocent savages" the true faith and demands that they give up their home so that they are not "tainted" by the harshness of reality. Where they have no other visible leaders then this Foreign Priest calling their faith and interpretation of his teachings through their own cultural lens as wrong-headed.
Where Joshua Graham, the butcher who helped Caesar commit cultural genocide on dozens of tribes alone, is elected War Leader by the Dead Horses and in some endings becomes worshiped by them. Even he warns Follows-Chalk to stay in Zion lest he be corrupted by the dangers of the wider wasteland.
Now you sound like Joshua. He always tells me the tribal life is better, that I should stay here and forget the outside world.
And the White-Legs are treated as nothing but a people wholly existing of hate that deserve to be destroyed because they have been fooled by Ulysses and Caesar. Never humanized, never given a chance to learn the truth for themselves, they are written and treated almost like generic Orcs in many fantasy settings. No matter what this tribe and people are consigned to doom and slaughter.
-][-
And I say all this because I find it deeply weird how disparate these ideas and depictions are between the main game of New Vegas and it's Honest Hearts DLC.
Why are the Great Khans given so much dignity and pathos, when the Honest Hearts tribes feel almost like caricatures?
Why is Honest Hearts the way it is? And why is the writing so disparate between the two sections of the game?
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aidanchaser · 2 days
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Read Confessions on Ao3 Rating: G for General Audiences Word Count: 1.4K
An Adrinette Post-Reveal fic, where someone brings up Catwalker
Her fingers slide through his hair like she’s untangling silk threads. She thinks she should have made the Adrien-is-Chat-Noir connection sooner, given how many times she’s slid her hands through his hair both in and out of costume. She’s never quite gotten over how smooth it is. She’d told herself that with Chat it was just the magic, and with Adrien, she’d imagined copious bottles of product—only come to find out, it was both.
His head rests in her lap, and his eyes hidden behind his forearm. His fingers fidget absentmindedly with one of her hair ties, and his lanky legs are propped up against her wall, jeans sliding off to show just a bit of bare ankle. She’s pressed back into her own mountain of pillows, and she thinks how nice it is to have afternoons like this together. No more chasing down villains, no more battles, no more secrets.
“Kim as the monkey was an inspired choice,” Adrien says. “He’s about as chaotic as Plagg.”
Marinette laughs softly. “I think that was Master Fu’s choice, not mine.”
“How do you decide who the right choice is?” Adrien pulls his arm from his face and looks up at her. Pensive curiosity flits through his determined green gaze. “Like, Nino’s really protective, so Carapace makes sense, but Alya’s all about truth and justice, right? Lies and illusion don’t make a lot of sense for her.”
Marinette tips her head back and stares at the trapdoor above her bed. “I didn’t think Ladybug made sense for me. She’s so brave and cunning and determined
 I’ve always been a coward and pretty hapless and helpless.”
“I think you’re brave and determined.”
“You’ve only known me since becoming Ladybug. I’ve grown a lot.”
“Chat Noir made perfect sense for me.”
Marinette laughs, jostling Adrien, and when she looks back down at him he’s glaring up at her.
“You don’t think so?” he says flatly.
“It’s not that,” she laughs again. “I mean, it does make sense—now anyway. But not how you used to be, you know, around other people.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Just that you’ve changed, too.”
“I was always like this,” he protests. “I just pretended to be someone else for a long time.”
“So you weren’t a handsome, charming, polite and kind friend all those years?”
“Chat Noir is all of those things.”
“Charming is stretching it.”
Adrien wrinkles his nose, and it only makes Marinette laugh more.
“Who was Scarabella, anyway?” Adrien asks, unsubtly changing the subject.
Marinette has to take a moment to compose her giggles. “That was Alya.”
“Ah, of course. She did a good job, but she certainly was no replacement for you.”
Marinette bites her cheek, hoping he can’t see her blush. The hardest thing about dating Adrien after the reveal has been listening to him praise her as Ladybug. She had never quite felt comfortable hearing him praise Ladybug before, and now that he knows the truth, it’s worse, as if knowing both of her identities has somehow doubled the intensity of the compliments.
She unsubtly reaches for a subject change of her own. “And what about Catwalker? You picked him, didn’t you? Or was that Plagg?”
Adrien glances away, tipping his head back for a better gaze of her pinboard that is no longer just Gabriel ads, but has grown to include photos with friends and pictures from several of their date nights, and a few even of Ladybug and Chat Noir.
“Catwalker was—well
” His brow furrows as he searches for the answer. She can’t fathom why it’s so hard for him to explain if he knows, but finally he says, “I was Catwalker.”
Marinette laughs again. “What do you mean you were Catwalker?”
“Well—you didn’t need Chat Noir around, and Plagg didn’t want another holder, so we
 we figured something else out.”
Her hands go still in his hair. “You know I always need you, right, minou?”
His eyes are still on her corkboard. “You didn’t need Catwalker.”
“It was more like I couldn’t function with Catwalker. I
 I liked you too much. You were so careful, so polite, so put together and charming
 I couldn’t even think straight, just like all those times I couldn’t talk to you at school. You just made my brain stop working! I couldn’t be Ladybug if I was too busy thinking about kissing you.”
She hopes he’ll sit up for a kiss, but he still doesn’t move. His gaze remains distant.
“Catwalker was based on the person I would always pretend to be. The person my father wanted me to be.”
Marinette understands rather suddenly where she misstepped. She bites down on her tongue, holding back a stuttered apology. She can’t say she didn’t mean it, or it wasn’t true, because it all was and still is. She loves Adrien, and a lot of “Adrien” has been made to please his father. She understands now why he had pouted when she’d said he was so different from Chat Noir.
She runs her fingers through his hair again with a bit more intention to the contact between them than her lazy strokes earlier. “Shortly before we started dating, I got obsessed with dating Chat Noir.”
“Oh, I remember,” he says, and a small smirk flashes across his face. Despite how insulting it ought to feel, it relaxes her. She knows he’s still here, listening, and not lost in his own head.
“I love all of you, Adrien. You are still kind and polite, and not just to make others happy. You do it because you care. And you’re silly and sometimes charming, but maybe not as often as you’d like to be. You’re Adrien and Chat Noir, you know, and I love all of it. Because I love all of you.”
His eyes finally slide back up to meet hers. “You’re Marinette and Ladybug, you know.”
Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “O-of course.”
He swings his legs down and pushes himself up to her level. “You are brave and determined and cunning and creative and honest and thoughtful and a hero.” He leans in until his face is inches from hers.
Her cheeks must be fully red now.
“Adrien, I’m not—”
“If I can be Adrien and Chat Noir, why can’t you be Ladybug and Marinette?”
“I-I am, I just—”
“Am I allowed to love all of you?”
Her tongue tingles as her anxiety mounts. Her brain sparks with all the same misfires it used to around Adrien and Catwalker alike, which is unfair since he’s being particularly impolite and invasive in this moment.
“Adrien, I—”
“You’re my lady and my purrincess,” he says, voice low like Chat Noir’s as he brushes her hair away from her face.
Marinette isn’t sure if her heart or her lungs are going to give out first, but one of them is surely about to clock out for the day and leave her high and dry.
And then he kisses her, and all of her parts call it quits—except her mouth, which seems to find its way around his just fine.
His hand slides through her hair, and his other hand finds its way to her waist. Marinette wants to stop, but she also doesn’t want to stop—ever. It occurs to her, distantly, that Adrien has once again changed the subject away from himself, but that thought is too far from this moment, from the heat of this kiss to do any good.
When he finally does pull away, there’s such a Chat-like mischief in his eyes that only makes Marinette’s blush worse.
“I love you,” he says.
She forces herself—with a fair amount of effort—to remember where they had left off their conversation. “I love all of you,” she says.
He hesitates for only a moment, long enough for her to know the weight of her promise reaches where it ought to. He answers, “Only if you’ll let me love all of you, too.”
It’s a fair trade, at least. Maybe someday Ladybug will stop feeling like a costume, like an act she puts on. Maybe someday she’ll feel worth of all of those grand adjectives. But at least today, at least for now, she’ll feel worthy of Adrien, and she hopes that someday he’ll feel worthy of himself, too.
She twists her hands into the collar of his black T-shirt and pulls him in for another kiss.
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?
⟱HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💩 Part 2 - Liar smut💩 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💩 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💩
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」
minors dni đŸ’…đŸœ
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Part 1 Pretty in Red
The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.
And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.
Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.
That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.
And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 
Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.
So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.
You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.
Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”
As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”
People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 
You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.
Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.
Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 
“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 
You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 
You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.
Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.
He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 
He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.
Yes, it was obvious to him now. 
So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 
The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.
He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.
“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 
“I don’t think I know you
.,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You
 new?”
You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 
“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.
“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”
Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.
With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.
“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 
No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.
You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 
Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.
No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 
“Well I think that’s quite enough.”
You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.
Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.
When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 
“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”
Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 
Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.
“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.
“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.
“No, right
.,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”
You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 
As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 
Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 
“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”
You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”
Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.
His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.
Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 
His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.
“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 
He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.
You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.
As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 
You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.
You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?
Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 
You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 
“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Was
 my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”
He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”
“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 
“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”
“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”
You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.
You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.
Good, you thought, and went about your work.
Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 
“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.
“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.
When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.
You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.
Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.
But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.
One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.
Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 
A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 
“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.
“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”
She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”
“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 
She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 
An understatement.
You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 
Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.
From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 
Ah, right. There was no body.
That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.
Well, worst case you die. 
You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.
You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.
Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.
You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 
Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.
“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.
“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 
When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 
Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”
You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.
It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”
He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 
“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”
Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”
Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”
“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”
Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”
You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 
You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.
It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.
Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?
All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.
He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.
Back against the large tree, you could only pout.
“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.
You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”
Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.
He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.
Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 
Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—
You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.
It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 
His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.
Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just
 horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.
It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.
Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 
Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.
His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.
No. Maybe. You nodded yes.
“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”
No. Probably not. Another nod.
His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.
“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?
“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 
Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 
Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.
“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  
Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.
Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.
The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.
Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 
You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.
Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?
Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”
“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 
A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.
“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.
He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”
Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”
Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”
“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.
“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”
“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 
“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”
A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 
Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.
With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 
Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?
“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”
“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”
You bit your lip. “TouchĂ©.”
He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”
With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.
Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.
àŒ»MasterlistàŒș
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✹, @alitaar , @angelicwillows
đŸčAlastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 5 months
Note
Hey I have a request!!
Capitol!Reader is from a rich and wealthy family which makes her an eligible wife for Snow who is in his second year as president which makes him 24. Reader is just about to turn 18 and she’s still in the academy. She’s being forced into a marriage the moment she is of age (18) but she very much dislikes Coriolanus. She is forced to hang out with him but she is sometimes a brat to him because she loathes him, she does not love him. The day she turns 18, Snow waits outside of the academy for her with white roses but she gets furious that he’s at her school infront of everyone and everyone now knows that they sale courting each other. She causes a scene (up to you what happens) and snow becomes incredibly mad at her. Honestly would love to see dark!coriolanus.
Thank you! Btw I love your fics sm 😭 I’ve been here since you started writing house of the dragon fics!
Fallen Roses || Young President! Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!Reader
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A/n: Thank you so much for this request! And thank you for sticking with me through my changes 😂
Warnings: possessive snow?
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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Dividers by @firefly-graphics
“He’s in his second year as President, and he needs a wife. You are perfect for it, y/n.” Your mothers whispers harshly to you as you sat there, arms crossed, looking to the side. You had been called out of High Biology and into Dr. Gaul's office.
"I don't want to be his wife! I don't even know him!" You argue back to your mother as her face stiffens and her eyes darken. You gulp. "Listen here, daughter. When you turn 18 in a couple of days, you will marry President Snow whether you like it or not. You will have the honor of becoming the First Lady of Panem. Be grateful that you have this opportunity. Do not ruin this for us!" Your mother fires back.
Dr. Gaul sits across the desk from the two of you, watching as mother and daughter fight. "There is something you must understand Miss Y/L/N, Coriolanus Snow picked you himself to be his wife. That is the most highest honour he could ever give. You will live in the Presidential Mansion with him, not lift a single finger, and bask in your riches-" You loudly scoff.
"Hell sounds better than that," You spat in annoyance as you could see your mother shooting daggers your way from your peripheral vision. That was not the life that you wanted to have for yourself in the future. Your life right now was worse. You hated being the centre of attention; although that could never be avoided due to your high status, your parents, and your enormous wealth.
You were grateful without a doubt, but you'd rather give away your riches to people who actually needed it. You hated being forced into events, wearing outfits that were far too uncomfortable, making conversation about the weather and whatnot. It was not your cup of tea even though you were brought up with this kind of lifestyle your entire life. The thought of doing that all over again but as the second most important person in all of Panem? That would be absolute torture.
Dr. Gaul sighs, looking at your mother before closing her mouth again. You liked to argue and shut people up, and you were pretty darn good at it. "President Snow will be here shortly to meet you. I hope you show him the respect that he well deserves." She gives you a knowing look as you roll your eyes.
"Great," You mutter under your breath. The three of your all sat in his office in silence for a few minutes before the door opened behind you. Your mother and Dr. Gaul stand up to greet the President as you stayed sitting, staring at the wall behind Dr. Gaul.
"President Snow," Your mother greets him in her sickly fake voice that you hear every time you are at social events. "Coraline, lovely to see you again," You hear him say as you feel him move closer to you and your mother as he kisses her cheek.
"Dr. Gaul, always lovely to see you," He shakes her hand, "As to you Mr. Snow," She chuckles. Then it was silent. You were still sat in your seat. You could tell Snow was staring at you. "Y/n, it's lovely to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you." You lightly chuckle, turning your head to look up at him.
"Wish I could say the same," You remark, "Now can I leave? I really don't want to be missing out on the lesson," Your eyes move to your mother and Dr. Gaul. "Your schedule has been cleared for the whole day Miss Y/l/n, you will instead, accompany President Snow to his home," Dr. Gaul exaplains.
"What?" You sit up in your seat, hands gripping the arms tightly as they turn white. "You want me to be alone with him?" "You're going to have to get used to it, sweetheart." Snow chuckles behind you as you grip the arms even tighter, your knuckles turning white. "Y/n." Your mother sternly says as you let out a sigh from your nose.
"This is ridiculous, you can't force me into this!" You yell at your mother, "She can't. But I most certainly can. Now shall we?" Snow offers his arm as you stare at him in disbelief. You abruptly stand up making the chair screech against the floor and sling your bag over your shoulder.
Your heals click on the marble floor as you quickly leave the room. "I knew I would like her," Snow comments making your mother turn a slight colour of red from embarrassment. Students were still in their classrooms. The last thing you wanted was even more attention from everyone when they see you and the President together.
You make a sharp turn from the usual route to outside. "Where are you going?" Snow calls out as you turn to him, "Like hell I'm letting other people see me with you, alone." You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him. He stands there, hands tucked into his jacket as he looks down, chuckling.
"Like I said, sweetheart, you're going to have to get used to it. You will be Panem's First Lady after all." He tilts his head at you. You kiss your teeth, letting your arms fall to your sides. "Yeah well I want to savour the final last moments of my freedom, so let me, yeah?" And with that you turn around disappearing from sight.
~
For the next couple of days, you had been forced into hanging out with Coriolanus. Whether it be having a meal with him in the presidential mansion, or him accompanying you as you are forced to go shopping for even more clothes. You had slightly warmed up to him, he could tell. But your disapproval of the whole situation was still there. Your attitude towards him was a clear give away.
Coriolanus quite enjoys your witty remarks. It entices him. Part of the reason as to why he picked you was that you hated your lifestyle and knew you had quite the tongue. He figured you were entertaining to tease. And of course, he found you the prettiest out of all the girls at the academy.
The dreadful day had finally come. You turned 18. Which meant that you could kiss your last ounces of freedom and happiness goodbye the minute Snow slips a ring on your finger. You had school that day. You figured you would be pulled out from your first class to meet with Snow but that was not the case.
Throughout the day you grew anxious by the second. You had yet to be pulled out. The bell rang indicating the school day was over and nothing happened. Did Snow pull out? Did he change his mind? You hoped it was the latter.
You pack up your things and wave goodbye to your friends as they all start to pour out of the main doors of the Academy. From afar you could see a small crowd forming. You make your way towards the crowd and was horrified to see Snow leaned up against a car, a bouquet of white roses in one hand.
"Mrs. Snow," He smirks the second he sets eyes on you as the crowd around you gasp in shock. You felt pure rage and hatred towards the man standing in front of you. You storm closer to him, yanking the flowers from his hands and throwing it on the floor. "Do not call me that," You spat, venom laced in your tone as Snow's eyes darken. He grips your upper arm as the peacekeepers open the car door.
Snow roughly pushes you inside the car as he slams the door. "You have been acting like an ungrateful little brat. Show some fucking respect to your husband." He grips your chin as your eyes begin to water. "You are not my husband." You say as he grips your chin even tighter making you wince. "I will be, whether you like it or not, darling." He smirks at you, all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off his lips.
You push him off of you as you sit furthest away from him. A tear rolls down your cheek. This was going to be your life from now on. "First thing you should now about being Panem's First Lady." Snow turns his head towards you, his hands roll up his sleeves, "Do not. Refuse. My flowers. Clear?" You don't say anything.
"I said, do I make myself clear!" He yells as you flinch. You tore your eyes away from the window. "Crystal clear." You choke out as he grins in satisfaction. "Good."
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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months
Text
Whiskey on the Tongue
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.
It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.
I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.
Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.
*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***
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Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.
The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.
“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.
“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.
“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.
“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.
Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.
He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.
He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.
“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”
Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.
You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.
Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.
He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.
It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.
A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.
He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.
The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.
“Where’s yours?”
The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.
“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.
Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.
You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.
Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.
Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.
He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.
You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.
“Bobby
”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.
You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”
Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.
His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.
Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.
He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.
Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.
While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.
Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”
You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.
Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance
 until now.
Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.
“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”
You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.
From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.
When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.
Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.
“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.
“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.
His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.
You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.
Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.
“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.
He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.
When you moved to sit, he stopped you.
“Here, lemme get that.”
“Thanks.”
He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.
A loud knock at the door started you.
“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”
“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.
“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.
“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.
There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.
Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.
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wongyuuu · 4 months
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back room | csc
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pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 2.3k summary: while seungcheol is on a meeting you decide that it's a great moment to send him nudes. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested @xcynthiaaa. i hope you like it. prompts: "Feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?" + “Can you stop sending me nudes, I’m at work.” lower case was intentional, not proofread
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you anxiously watched the meeting room, you glanced at your phone every now and then to make sure that seungcheol had gotten your text. he was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, his eyes not even once going to his phone or to you, though you were sure that he knew that the new influx of texts was from you. 
without meaning to, your eyes went from him to the woman sitting right in front of him. since the beginning of the meeting she never stopped looking at seungcheol and if the nasty gossip that floated to your ears was any true, she had been hitting on him a long time before you showed up.
maybe you were feeling a little insecure about yourself, because the woman was stunning, with the kind of face and body one could easily find in a magazine, or maybe you just hated the fact that there was a woman throwing herself at your boyfriend. to his credit, seungcheol never looked at her, unless she directly called his name, and when she touched his leg with her pointy shoes he scooted his chair back.
you bit your lip, wanting to come up with an excuse to go into the meeting room and maybe end it. but you didn't have a good one and although if you did go in, no one would ever bat an eye, it just wasn't right. and, more than anything else, it could backfire and instead of being amused by your sudden jealousy, seungcheol would get angry because you could have potentially ruined an important moment for him. 
so you kept your butt on your chair, doing your very best to keep your focus on the work that needed to be done. it was pointless and you knew that. every couple of seconds your eyes moved to the meeting room. 
"who was the idiot that decided that a meeting room should have glass walls?" you asked no one in particular. 
"pretty sure it was the ceo" wonwoo said from the desk in front of you. 
it was a surprise that he even heard you in the first place. wonwoo was great at ignoring the people around him, you more than anyone else, and he usually had his earbuds in, blasting music loud enough that people near him could hear it too. you liked to pretend that he never answered because his hearing was getting progressively worse because of all the loud music. 
"almost certain your boyfriend agreed, saying it was a great idea," he said, not looking at you. 
you choked on your own saliva, eyes wide as you reached for the water bottle on your right. no one was supposed to know about your relationship with seungcheol, as it was against company rules. both of you thought that you had done a good job in hiding it, a fantastic one actually. 
you never arrived together, never left together, barely talked of things that weren't specific about work, and if there was a company dinner you never sat close to each other, always choosing opposite sides, but careful enough not to be facing each other. 
you were always careful, to the point most people thought you didn't like each other. 
"he's not..."
"you don't have to lie" he waved a hand in your direction, "i'm the only one who knows. and i only know because i saw you together a couple of weeks ago at a restaurant" 
you opened your mouth to say something when your phone suddenly lit up with an incoming text. it was pathetic how quickly you grabbed your phone, to the point wonwoo laughed at you. 
cheol feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?
you bit your lip trying to hide your smile but it was almost impossible. when you looked at the meeting room, seungcheol's eyes were focused on you. 
to the average person, he looked displeased, angry even. but you knew that the glint in his eyes was for a different reason.
you moved your attention back to your phone.
you just wanted to remind you that you have a girlfriend
you went through your gallery again, clicking on the picture you took a few days before and pressing send. seungcheol had to be away for a few days because of work and because you weren't part of his team, there was no reason for you to tag along. you had been feeling hornier than usual, needy even. so you decided that if you were missing your boyfriend to the point where your fingers could do nothing but make you even needier, he too could miss you a little bit. 
so you took pictures of yourself sprawled in his bed, wearing the red lingerie you knew he liked the most, and sent it to him. it took him a couple of hours to see it and it was so long that you started to think that maybe it had been a bad idea and that though he was someone who enjoyed foreplay there were things that he wasn't willing to do. 
to your surprise and delight, he was more into it than you expected. 
after that, if you were feeling pretty enough, you'd take pictures and randomly send them to him. 
cheol you know i love it but, can you stop sending me nudes? i'm at work  we're at work
you okay ;)
you send him a different picture, this time one he had taken the night before, of your reflection in the mirror while you rode him. 
you smiled at your phone before setting it down, happy with yourself. seungcheol looked almost pained as he turned his attention back to the meeting, nodding his head every now and then, but his eyes continued to move back to his phone. 
he couldn't really believe what you had done, though you weren't the shiest woman he had ever met, for you there had always been certain boundaries you refused to cross. he couldn't help but wonder if you had gotten jealous enough to do that, send him pictures while he was in a room filled with people. had the client had gone a little further you would have barged into the room ready for a fight? 
his hard on was a little uncomfortable, and yes he crossed his legs in order to hide it, but it was extremely hard to keep the smile away from his face.
"i'm sure we can make the adjustments for next week, can't we seungcheol?" his boss suddenly said.
seungcheol cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the chair. 
"yes, i can finish it by friday next week
"great!" the woman said in her high pitched tone. 
seungcheol took a discreet deep breath to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 
he didn't know how you even thought that he could be interested in her, or if anything at all even went through your brain. the client was objectively pretty but everything else about her didn't do much for him. and she crossed one too many lines during the meeting. seungcheol made it a point to keep quiet for the day but there was no way he would stand another meeting with the woman. he would still work on the project but the ceo could handle her by himself, something told him he would be happy to.
"i was thinking that maybe we could all go for lunch," she started.
seungcheol stood up, shaking his head. he pulled the folder from the desk and held it in front of himself. the sight was ridiculous and he could picture you laughing in his head.
"i have a lot of work to catch up on, i'll have to pass on it"
the polite thing to do would be to shake her hand but seungcheol wanted to get away as fast as possible so once the ceo nodded at him, he turned on his heels and left the meeting room. 
he went straight to your desk. you smiled while looking down and at the mere sight of you, his cock twitched like he was a fucking teenager that had never seen a woman before. 
"yn, i need you at the archive room. now"
at the sound of his voice, you looked up. your smile melted away and you wore the usual serious face whenever seungcheol was around. 
he hated it, the fact that you had to hide your relationship. he wanted everyone to know that you were his, and then maybe all the stupid men in the office would stop trying to ask you out. 
"why?" you asked, your tone bored. 
"because you were the last one to go through the files and i need help" he matched your bored tone. 
wonwoo laughed, making seungcheol turn to him. he raised his eyebrows, a silent question thrown at the man sitting in front of you. wonwwo just shook his head, his smile suddenly gone. he turned to you, eyebrows still raised. 
you sighed and followed him. your heels clicking on the floor while you followed him three steps behind. 
was the archive room always that far away?
"what do you need?" you asked, tone still bored, when the room came into view. 
seungcheol opened the door for you and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. 
when you turned to look at him you smiled at him, your arms crossed over your chest. he threw the folder he used to cover himself to the side and put his hands on his waist. you watched in complete amazement and laughed when you noticed the bulge in his pants. 
"awn, did you like the pictures that much?" your voice was taunting. 
seungcheol took three steps closer to you and pulled your hand, putting it over his cock. just that was almost enough to get a moan out of him. 
the second he saw the picture of you over him, his dick deep inside your pussy, it was all he could think about. having you again, as fast as possible was his only concern. 
"there are cameras in here," you said, your eyes wide while you looked around, lightly pulling your hand away from his grasp. 
"there isn't"  
at his words, you opened the zipper of his pants just enough to push your hands into his boxers. you wrapped your hand around his cock and ran your thumbs over his tip, pumping him a couple of times. you smiled when a quick shudder ran over him. 
seungcheol grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips crashing over yours. he pushed his tongue through your lips, taking control. his hands moved down to your neck, squeezing it softly. 
"my little menace," he said "what did you think was going to happen, hm?"
he pulled your skirt up until it was pooled around your waist and pushed you until your back was pressed against the wall.
"you wanted me to walk out of that room and fuck you, over your desk?"
you moaned at the thought, though in your ideal world, none of your coworkers would be around to witness it. seungcheol turned you around and forced your legs apart with his feet while holding one of your arms behind your back. you used your free hand to steady yourself on the wall. 
"if you don't ask, i'm not going to fuck you, baby" 
it was something seungcheol often relished on, the fact that he could make you beg. you were so quiet, so shy, but he always made you say it, implore for it. 
"you're the one with a hard on, sweetheart" you teased. if he thought that you were going to beg this time too, he was wrong "i can go back to work as if nothing happened"
you really couldn't. if you did it was going to be the worst work day for you because the only thing you could possibly think about was the fact that your boyfriend had a hard on because of you and you said no when he wanted to fuck you. 
seungcheol shoved your panties aside and pushed himself into you. he groaned as your walls sucked him in. you moaned at the feeling of being full, at being stretched out to fit him. he moved relentlessly, his pace almost cruel as he searched for his release. 
"jesus, cheol..." a loud moan left your lips as you were suddenly pressed on the wall. 
"you have to be quiet, baby" you could feel his smirk on your neck "everyone will hear you"
seungcheol snaked his arm around your waist, and his fingers worked your clit with the same drive as his hips moved. he was a madman and you loved every single piece of him. you covered your mouth with your hand, your eyes shut close, in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. even if your moans couldn't be heard, there was no way people wouldn't hear the sound of his hips on your yours. 
"you’re going to be filled with cum" he whispered, his free hand grabbing your neck, tilting your head back "running down your thighs the entire day"
seungcheol pinched your clit and it was enough to throw you over the edge. this time you were able to swallow your moan. you pressed your hands on the wall, trying to steady yourself, as your legs shook. seungcheol was quick to follow, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he pounded into you again and again. 
he used your shoulder to quiet his own moan and heavy breath.
"just so you know, this wasn't my intention," you said once you were able to breathe again.
seungcheol laughed and took a step back as he adjusted his shirt and pants.
"no?"
you rolled your eyes and leaned on the wall.
"maybe later, at your place" you gave in
he laughed and pulled your skirt down while you buttoned his shirt. 
"well, it's only noon"
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soulren · 10 months
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Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.
There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.
But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.
And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.
Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.
This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.
And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.
And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.
And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.
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ashersanity · 5 months
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Know some people have already done this, but I just had to jump in on the train cuz I’m a sucker for yanderes, especially fem ones, like yeah, please tie me up in your fucking basement and call me your boy. I will instantly melt on the spot.
LI’s as YANDERES
asher style, of course.
you already know the drill, there’s gon be loads of cw! for this one since it’s fucking YANDERES!
content warning! dub-con at best, non-con at worst, manipulation, typical gaslighting, abusive and possessive behaviour, mentions of violence, it gets bloody too, knife play, stalking, somniphilia, y’know, all that yandere shit.
pc and LI’s are gender neutral as always unless explicitly stated otherwise. still included kylar, some of these are soft and cute, some of these are just straight up gross.
this is long. i hope you like long things.. that sounded wrong.
Robin
“I-I’m your first? You saved yourself for me?? Hah, I don’t deserve something so special. Thank you..”
yandere type : two-faced, manipulative, overprotective
Doesn’t show it, trained smile on their face whenever Kylar slots in between the two of you at the cafeteria even if Robin is internally holding themselves back from reaching behind the freak and pulling you in closer instead. Just know that if you kiss Kylar in front of them in that one scene, they’re not running away in tears, they’re internally seething and rushing to the bathroom to calm themselves down unless they wanna accidentally break the loner’s face like Whitney did. (Yeah, Robin is violent under extreme circumstances. Saw that damn brothel scene? Yandere! Robin is even worse)
Gives you the impression of someone cheerful and kind, always well-intentioned since they want the best for you after all! You don’t even get to see the way their eyes flicker and narrow behind your back, holding themselves back each and every time they see you with either Whitney, Kylar or Sydney. Would absolutely lose their shit if they knew the things you do with Bailey in their office in return for an extra day before payment is due.
Breath shaky as they stare at your lips touching the cup, sipping at their homemade lemonade, not even noticing their eyes drilling a hole right into your pretty face. Quickly claims they need to go to high street to get some more ice, all the while bringing the cup you just used with them. Locking themselves in one of the stall in the changing rooms, licking and sucking at the humid lip stains you left on the glass, free hand busy between their legs.
Robin really can’t help themselves around you, sneaking into your room at night, quiet footsteps tiptoeing to your bed, watching your peaceful face, fast asleep. Trailing a finger over your lips, utterly entranced. Started with quick kiss to your neck, collarbone, lips. Now they’re touching themselves to you, hands in their pajama bottoms, soft, wet noises of the orphan‘s genitals being stroked. High confidence!Robin doesn’t hesitate to cum/messily squirt all over you, smearing the fluids across your lips before sealing it with a kiss. Makes sure to clean it up after though, can’t ruin their perfect, innocent image!
Voluntarily puts themselves in dangerous situations, wether it be through Bailey’s punishments, off to the docks or something as simple as getting picked on at the cafeteria. They know you’ll come for them, save and protect them from the danger, won’t you? You always do, you’re their savior, Robin’s protector.. And for that, they’ll never let you go.
Whitney
“..Let me remind you who fucking owns you. Cmon, I want to hear you squeal, bitch!”
yandere type : sadistic, possessive, impulsive
Didn’t even mean to get that attached to you in the first place, but when they saw the way your lips would curl up into that fucking smile, chatting away with Robin at lunch or the stupid freak— Dammit, it’s like Whitney snapped, forcing you to sit at their table, comfortably seated on their lap with their cronies surrounding you. Looks like you’re eating lunch with the bully forever from now on. You don’t got a choice in the matter, slut.
Don’t even try to fight back against them too, you’ll just rile the delinquent up further, visible outline of their hard cock/wet pussy in their pants/beneath their long school skirt as you kick at their stomach, only for them to grasp at your wrists and pin you down. If you do win the fight by pure chance or strength, just know they’re running off to the bathroom to jerk/finger themselves silly, using your own blood as lube (haha, hot.) Licks away at the bloodied mess you left on their knuckles too, smearing it across their lips to savor. they do that little finger sucking thing at the end to really get all that blood inside their system.
Oh? Whitney catches one of their friend hitting you/trying to get a taste of you? They’re not the only one getting punished, you’re getting punished too, bitch. Your fault for being so tempting around others and they’ll make it your own fucking problem. Don’t even try to worm yourself out of it cuz they’ll be waiting at the school gates, dark look on their face, bloodied sneakers from dealing with that one friend that didn’t listen. Expect the roughest anal fucking of your life along with having their cock/strap-on deep down your throat. Even better if you have a dick, you’re getting both, cock/strap-on up your ass and yours in their own, milking you dry for all you’re worth.
Will force a collar around your neck along with a leash that they pull at during sex. Better than your shitty hair since it leaves bruises right on that tender skin they like to sink their fangs into, dragging you around for the whole town to see. Publicly fucks you at the park with nothing but the collar on, telling you to take it well, show everyone what a whore you are for them. Enjoys inflicting pain on you through biting, marking or spanking, relishes in the pained sounds that come out of your mouth. Loudly refers to you as their pet, wants everyone to know you personally as “Whitney’s pet” first and foremost before even knowing your damn name.
Purposely marks you in every way possible that they can think of, leaving hickeys and bite marks over your neck and thighs, making sure your collar is just a tad bit open to expose the bruised skin underneath. Shit, they’ll tattoo their goddamn name right on your chest, rough hand beneath your shirt, tracing the lettering of their own name with a satisfied smirk on their face. Now everyone will know that you belong to them, Whitney’s property, their slut.
Kylar
“M-My love! We were meant for each other all along! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!”
yandere type : obsessive, clingy, delusional
Already has a shrine ready for you, dedicated to their one and only beloved, hell, they even went to the tailor to get the perfect size for your suit/dress. How does Kylar know your exact measurements?? Um, don’t ask them! It was by pure chance, just a lucky guess, of course! Maybe they did sneak in at night through the window, somehow not encountering Robin in the middle of their weird session, gliding their small hands over your sleeping form with measuring tape ready.
Goes through your closet when you’re not at the orphanage, stealing and taking in all the underwear that they can find, even goes through the dirty laundry. Yeah, your fucking dirty laundry, making sure they got everything. Now they have your own personal scent with them 24/7, rubbing the fabric of your undergarments against their sex, melding your fluids together, spits right in the middle where it connects with your crotch. Slips it inside your closet once more, hard erection/moistened cunt in their pants/skirt once they force you to wear it, their saliva touching your genitals.
Just as Whitney likes to mark their property, so does Kylar, tracing the silver over your tender flesh, ready to sink in and draw blood, carve their name right where it should be. Maybe they do it while you’re sleeping even! Awakening to a nice, old surprise of your beloved darling’s name etched into your skin, dry blood cleanly licked away, lapped up by the loner’s tongue. Now, no pervert or whore shall try a thing unless you want a dead corpse at your feet, Kylar’s proud smile and expectant gaze on you. Like a cat that killed its prey for its master.
Why did you wake up all sweaty and warm..? Um, don’t ask Kylar, they wouldn’t know! Not like they slip in beneath the covers with you at night, lowering themselves down to your hips before pulling down the waistband of your pajamas unless you’re sleeping naked? In this town? Either way, they’re burying their face in your crotch, messily slurping and sucking away at your genitals, relishing in the taste of your flesh in their mouth. Does a show of swallowing it all, moving their pink tongue across your parted lips and slipping in.
Remember how you sent them to prison? Yeah? Thought it was over and everything, huh? Kylar now forever gone from your life, not having to deal with that persistent freak anymore, that was the plan.. Obviously fucking not, a disheveled looking Kylar breaking into your room in the middle of the night, still in their prison uniform, dark fringe over their eyes, unable to hide the maddened lust in them. Idiot, you really thought you could get rid of them?? No, of course not! Kylar is here to stay, stay forever and they’ll make sure you know you’re theirs, fucking your face into the mattress with their fat cock/strap-on, imprinting themselves into your skin. You’re theirs now. Forever.
Pure Sydney
“We.. we did it.. I’m so happy.. This means we’re bound together forever from now on.. right?”
yandere type : harmless?, worshipping, overprotective
Harmless? Well, not exactly, Sydney doesn’t even know themselves about their own behaviour, eyes framed behind glasses, always glancing back at the library entrance and waiting for your arrival. After all, they love to see your face in the morning, it brightens up their day, puts a smile on their face, humming a tune to themselves. Maybe they do clutch at the pages of the book they’re holding a little too hard if they see you sit at Kylar’s table instead.. Sinking feeling in their pit of the stomach, clenching teeth. Snaps out of it, confused as to why.
Solely believes that you’re an angel, someone gifted by God, fallen from heaven. You’re perfect after all! Devoid of flaws and if there are some, they’re unable to see it, lovingly gazing at your praying face at the temple in a tender manner. If someone proves otherwise, like those filthy edited pictures they find of you sometimes, they brush it off, it can’t be true. You’re perfect. Utterly perfect, only deserving of the purest of people and Sydney is ready to fill that role, they’re the only ones worthy of it after all!
Absolutely snaps if they ever see a temple initiate or nun’s wandering hand reaching for your behind, smacks it away, red in the face. Now they’re creating a scene right in front of you, shouting and reprimanding the other for that, but no, it isn’t enough for Sydney, honestly. Willing to lie if it’s for you, obviously you didn’t ask for it, you never did, though they’re still going to Jordan, demanding punishment on the filthy sinner for having laid their hands on you. No sick bastard or bitch should ever look your way, only Sydney.
Asks a few too many questions to Sirris about you, the science teacher already picking up on their little crush, teasing poor little Syd about it and they’re blushing furiously now, completely denying it. God, they really should’ve never brought it up, yet they can’t help themselves, constantly asking about you to their parent, wondering how you’re doing in class.. Are there any students harassing you..? In the library? In the hallways? Has Whitney set their sights on you? Don’t worry, Sydney will take care of them. just involves them tattle-telling to Leighton pft
Maybe they do let you quietly drag them to the prayer room, knowing they shouldn’t, but it’s you, you that they can’t deny, never could. Maybe they do reciprocate the kiss, amber eyes fluttering shut, arms keeping you in their grasp. This must be a dream, must be and it isn’t. Pasts the point of no return, breaking their chasity vow for you and you only. Is exhilarated once they find out that you were also a virgin, meaning you both shared this special moment together with them. Now you’re bound to each other! As one.
Corrupted Sydney
“You did it. You defiled me at last. We belong to each other, now and forever!”
yandere type : worshipping, manipulative, overprotective
Much more self-aware in their behaviour now that you’ve opened up their eyes to sin and lust, and y’know what? Do they feel shameful? Absolutely not, they’re not praying to damn anything, not begging for salvation because it’s only right for a lover to be protective over their darling, hm? At least, they use that as an excuse to mark your skin as theirs, purposely leaving their name or cheesy pet names on your forearms or neck, rolled up sleeve or unbuttoned collar to show off their masterpiece to other students.
A lot more assertive and teasing with Kylar. Their childhood friend wants to play that game? Sure, they can do the same, casually swinging an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer. Watching on with a smirk on their face as the loner silently seethes into their seat, shooting them a cold glare. Sydney’s obviously undeterred, even going so far as to pull you into a kiss right in front of the other. Yeah, they’re fucking petty like that, eyeing up the freak’s expression as it slowly morphs from one of disbelief to horror. Doesn’t even feel bad if Kylar scurries away in tears, you’re theirs after all, aren’t you? It’s only their right to prove it so.
Amber eyes darkening as they see you with a customer at the sex shop, shamelessly flirting with you at the counter. Quickly pulls you aside, calling out to their parent that you and them are taking a short break. The short break? Involves punishment and marking, if that pesky shit doesn’t understand that you belong to Sydney then they’ll make sure to be more direct about it, tying you up, ball gag in your mouth, uselessly drooling away. Now you’re bent over on their lap, spanking your reddened bum, each slap for every pervert that eyed you up at work. Makes sure you’re left to limp back at the counter, ass stinging and burning, hoping you learnt your lesson.
By god, do not ever break your vow and let the temple find out, Sydney will know, will know that it’s not them. The temple’s punishment on its own won’t be enough, no, they’re also personally making sure you’re never touched by anyone else, but them ever again. Face pressed up against the wooden wall, forced in this uncomfortable position in the tight confines of the confessionary, hissed breath telling you to shut up while they fuck you with their cock/strap-on or riding your cock. Genuinely wants to hear a few slip ups on your part, clueless initiate coming in to confess their sins, a grin across Sydney’s pretty features as they listen to your hitched breaths, struggling to speak.
That one scene where they’re slowly trailing their red marker up your arm, pausing upon seeing Whitney’s tattoo on your shoulder, simply frowning and turning away. Yeah? Yandere! Sydney isn’t just frowning, no, they’re fucking pissed, a scowl creeping up to their face, asking you what the fuck that’s doing there. Stuttering back a reply, unsure how to respond to that. How exactly are you supposed to explain your bully’s name permanently etched into your flesh? Palm placed on your head, pushing you down, making sure the librarian isn’t nearby to see. Now you better be begging for forgiveness on your knees, mouth busy pleasuring their sex with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over your flushed cheeks. Filthy sinner, this will be the only time Sydney’s ever visiting Harper for a tattoo removal.
Masterlist
Now I wanna see Yandere! Whitney vs Yan! C!Syd.
Who wins? My bets are on Syd because I fucking said so. The bully would be way too hot-headed, gets provoked too easily whereas the other is able to keep their cool, a bit more than Whitney. Plus Syd has the advantage of being a shameless masochist, would probably be moaning if they get punched, catching the delinquent off guard.
Coming up next, Yandere! Whitney specifically.
yandere! whitney
yandere! harper
yandere! bailey
yandere! shady bastards
yandere! remy
also thanks to @saint700 for the whitney line, it goes hard, hard like my c—
[END OF POST]
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moonchild1 · 2 months
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park jimin fic rec list (ⅱ)
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woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask đŸ˜ŠđŸ–€
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a
↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.
a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s
↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.
it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects
↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.
so it goes by @/dovechim f s
↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.
love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a
↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?
the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a
↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.
FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk
↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 
after the applause by @foxymoxynoona
↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.
saved by @to-star-lake s a
rockstar au deep subjects read warnings
midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a
↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?
Easy. You forget about it.
heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s
↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 
drifting by@hongcherry f a
↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.
growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a
↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.
tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg
↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.
stardust by @venusjeon f a
↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.
drift by @snackhobi f s
↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.
the deli diaries by @jimlingss f
↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.
best of me by @xotoosweet f a
↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.
the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a
↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.
strip by @yoonia f s a
↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?
falling by @/yoonia s a
↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?
wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a
↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type
baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a
↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)
↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?
our little family by @nightbts f a
↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary
one-shot 35
brand new eyes by @missgeniality s
↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.
waves by @shina913 s
↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.
failure to communicate by @gukslut s
↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU
physical by @ppersonna f s
↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.
good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s
↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?
ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a
↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.
100km/hour by @chateautae s
↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?
what it's like by @jimilter s
↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.
feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a
↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.
the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk
↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.
scream your panties by @opaljm s a
↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.
first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a
↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.
antifreeze by @winetae s
↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute
what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s
idol au husband au marriage au
only you by @personasintro f s a
↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 
sucker by @/personasintro s a
↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.
please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a
↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"
summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a
↳ childhood friends to lovers
neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a
↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?
serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3
↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.
the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s
↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.
Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a
↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.
blue blood by @joonbird s a
↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”
i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a
↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
locked in love by @parkmuse f s a
↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.
peaches and cream by @snackhobi s
↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 
reset by @/dovechim s
↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 
the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s
↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 
Unconditionally by @kstopping s a
↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.
Instinct by @evangelene f a
↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.
eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a
↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”
foul play by @kimvtae f s a
↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.
lost and found by @/kimvtae s a
↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.
if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a
↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.
the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s
↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 
hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a
↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?
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↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library
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godsandmonsters505 · 1 year
Text
Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith
dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader
(AU where the apocalypse never happened)
Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.
Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging
Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)
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Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances
Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.
Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.
And that's how you got here.
You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.
"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."
Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.
"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.
You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.
"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.
The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.
"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.
"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."
"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.
"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."
"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.
"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.
"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.
Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.
"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.
He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"
You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.
"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."
"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.
You laugh softly under your breath at his response.
"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.
The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.
The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.
"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."
A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."
"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"
Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.
"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?
Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.
"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.
Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.
You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.
"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."
You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.
"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"
"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.
The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.
You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.
"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.
"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.
You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.
"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.
"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.
The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.
"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.
He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.
You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.
"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."
"Feel like watching it again?"
You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.
"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."
"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."
You laugh at him. "I feel you."
You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.
When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.
You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.
All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.
"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.
You look over to the television and see a black screen.
"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.
What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.
"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."
"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."
"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."
The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.
"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.
"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"
A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.
You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.
His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?
He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.
You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.
You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.
"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."
"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.
"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.
Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.
His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.
As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.
You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.
You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.
Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.
"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.
He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.
"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.
"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.
He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.
Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.
Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.
"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.
"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."
As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.
He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.
He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.
"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.
Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.
You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.
"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.
"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.
He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.
He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.
He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.
"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"
"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.
You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.
Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.
Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.
Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.
"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.
He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.
"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."
"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.
You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.
"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.
"Do you want to?" He counters.
"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"
"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."
You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"
He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.
"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.
"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.
"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.
Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.
"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.
"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."
He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.
"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."
Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.
His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.
"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.
"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.
"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."
"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."
His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.
He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.
"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.
"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.
Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.
He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.
Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.
You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.
Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.
"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.
"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."
You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.
To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.
"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."
Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.
Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.
"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.
He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.
You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.
"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."
Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.
Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.
The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.
Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.
"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.
"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.
3K notes · View notes
iznsfw · 7 months
Note
Hey Iz! Just would like to say that I love how you show Eunbi as softie in your fics which makes me go back to them every now and then. Hope you could do more of Subby Eunbi.
Maybe Wife Eunbi in the future perhaps?
Home
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
11,834 words
Categories | wife!Eunbi, fluff, fluffy-to-rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, (is it really IZ who's writing Eunbi if there isn't) daddy kink, praise/degradation kink, choking, squirting, BREEDING
Here you go, thank you so much for the feedback + kind words. Fulfilled this request not only because it was sitting in my inbox even before I announced commissions, but also because it's her 28th. Still a baby 😭
Oh, and also because I feel like shit after reading "Birthday Blues." It makes me cringe and I feel like I could write her better than that.
Happy birthday to the best tokki! To celebrate, take a shot everytime Eunbi says "daddy."
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You want to be anywhere but here. 
When will it all even end? It's nighttime but the evening doesn't even try to compensate for the heat in the morning. Where’s the departure of warmth? Where’s the cool breeze that could dull your aching bones? You're starting to believe that the world’s doing this on purpose.
If it explains anything, since your hatred for the sun is so solid: your job requires more than a degree and a calculating mind, so you're out in the fire of the large star for more than a few hours at a time with sweat pouring down on you more than the light is. You still have sunburns from the first time you underestimated it and went out without lotion. Oh, and from the time you overestimated it and still ended up with dark spotting your skin anyway.
It’s no different than what other employed people your age go through, but it remains
 tiring. You get up before dawn even has a chance to call itself one and come home when the night’s on the brink of turning into day. The workload always renders you weak, when it's all physical rather than something you can get over with a keyboard, but you force a smile on your face. It'll all be worth it when you come home.
Click your phone on solely to see your wallpaper. It's her, of course, with your daughter in her arms. Yep, they're the ones you call the loves of your life. You simply can't wait to come home.
Well, coming home is a hell of its own, but it's the trip that makes it so. Often, there's the usual road rage from student drivers too inexperienced to be granted the right to let it out, and of course, traffic. 
That also renders you weak, if that’s anything that matters.
That's your current situation: stuck in a public bus in a concrete jungle ridden by vehicles. All the seats are filled with passengers of varying ages but the same exhaustion. That's the reason for your legs threatening to give up, and you wouldn't blame them. You barely had time to sit down for a break the whole day. Oftentimes, it results in your feet starting to quiver of their own accord, even when you lie down, as if still processing the strain it bore the whole day.
"Need a seat?" asks a man who's around the same age as you, but looks completely different. You wear a shirt stained with coffee and sweat; he’s dressed in a suit and pants. "Your legs are shaking."
At least, unlike the other men from offices you've met, he could read the room.
"Thanks," you say, smiling. You can't even muster politeness to refuse the offer when yes, your legs are shaking. Can't say "no, they just do that" or "ah, it's a talent." 
"No problem, man." He returns the smile. He gestures a brow to your phone, which you didn't even notice was still on. "Not to pry or anything, but—"
You know who he's referring to. Chuckle and nod. "Yep, my wife."
My wife. The words echo in your mouth long after leaving. Just two words bring so much happiness crashing into your heart.
"Could have figured." He leans against the pole. "You smiled like hell when you looked at her."
Did you? Most likely. Glancing at her still gives you butterflies in the stomach. Whether from afar, on a screen, or in person, the girl always has you in a chokehold. (Not that she could choke anyone with a heart and height like hers, but it counts metaphorically, for you're down bad. Down crazy for her.)
"Well, she makes my day.” Pause. “I love her."
"She must be a good wife, huh?"
Look down at her and now you're acutely aware of the big smile on your face. "The best,” you affirm. “Just the best.”
-
It takes hours for you to get through the traffic, and by the grace of god above, you're only going to bear the last of it now. Can't fall asleep—you're nearly there. Your subdivision is coming up to view. Nice place, really, rather nice for a first home, and—
There. You get off the bus and thank the man. You had a nice talk with him, and you hope to have more. He pats you on the shoulder and bids you goodbye.
Then, you thank the driver. He doesn't bother to say that you're welcome or anything. Can't be mad at that. You've all had a rough day.
The arc of your subdivision welcomes you to the aisles of houses lined up. You're home, but not quite. It takes walking to and opening the door of the house you've worked for and being engulfed in the arms of the woman you love to be truly home. It's cliché, you know, but it isn't anything far from the truth. 
Open the door to the world where you belong.
"I'm home," you say, because you are. This is home. You have coworkers and friends you love to hang out with, but nothing beats the comfort of being with your family. 
Gently close the entry to the doorway so as not to alarm your daughter and wife with the jingle of the mobile. Or worse, disturb their sleep. You don't expect them to be awake; it's barely two hours to midnight.
But still, there she is.
Kwon Eunbi, the woman you gave your last name and your love to. The ends of her long dark hair brush over the sweater she shares with you, or rather, has stolen with how many nights it hasn't been used by you. Her pretty little face shows exhaustion, but also a smile. Of course, it's that adorable grin you'll never get enough of.
Her steps pick up a faster speed as she rushes to you with light feet. Open your arms, and she fills them, fills them with her small body and fills the air with soft whines of complaint. They're complaints that say: where were you? Why were you gone so long? Please be here forever. Baby? Please. 
She really needed this hug from you, especially the lift. She needs someone to raise her up when she feels small. So, you sweep her off her feet.  Automatically, her legs join behind your waist. Heavy lifting at work has paid off—your arms barely struggle when you carry her, or maybe it's just Eunbi being as light as a feather as usual. 
Your heart aches at the hours she must have spent getting none of the help she needs from you. You nuzzle your nose to hers—if her whines speak of complaints, this act of yours tells her of your apologies.
"Hi there," you mumble through ruffles of her hair. She's still your baby girl after all this time.
"Hi," she says softly.
Press your lips to the crown of her head and pull her in tighter. "What are you doing up so late?" 
"Putting your kid to sleep," she replies. Eunbi juts both of her lips out. "She's such a brat these days."
"Got it from her mother," you reply testily, letting go and setting her on the ground to raise her chin anyway.
"Don't be mean. I had a terrible day. I missed you so bad."
You feel bad now for teasing her. While you have your share of trials, it's Eunbi who spends most of her time attending to your daughter. It's Eunbi who goes day after day helping you out with chores and paperwork with little complaint. You really should choose the right time and place for your banter.
"I'm sorry, pretty. How can I make it up to you?"
"Let's watch a movie," she says hopefully. Her thumbs create gentle patterns on the sides of your head. 
"A movie?"
"Yes. Just you and me."
-
That's how you end up on the sofa, with Netflix on and Eunbi with her head on your shoulder. Her thigh rests on yours, and if it weren't for her hair being the main focus of your fingers, you'd be caressing it. 
"You want some water? A snack?" She snuggles up to you, as if you were her favorite pillow. It's as on the nose as it gets; Eunbi loves being close to you, having your body on top of hers and just feeling your touch.
You shuffle through movie choices with the remote. The posters come up to view one by one with each click. What should you watch tonight? Nothing else than the usual, but you still have to check.
That one. You give her a question with a look though you know she'll nod. It's her favorite, too.
"You don't have to do that for me," you tell her. She really doesn't. You're satisfied having her in the crook of your arm, with one of her beautiful legs thrown over your thigh. "Just enjoy the movie. You worked hard today."
"But so did you."
"It's fine, Eunbi, I promise." 
Cup her jaw and squeeze those soft cheeks together. Her lips look particularly beautiful today. They're pouty, speaking wordlessly about something that's kind of like love. Love and other things. Love and things like virtues that you two aren't really required to follow when morality is common sense. Mostly. But Eunbi's a good person. A good wife. A good girl.
Lean in to kiss that flawless mouth. "Thank you for working hard."
"And thank you for coming home," she whispers quietly. Her gaze is soft. You could see your smile reflect in them.
It takes a strange soul, a soul that’s more than the right amount of grateful, to thank someone for being there. She says it everyday, a constant reminder of how loved you are. It’s weird to others to hear Eunbi say that while she sticks to your arm, but she’s your little oddity. She has been since the day you met her.
The film goes on and so does the familiar dialogue. You let out the occasional laugh—it’s still good with every watch. The characters say the same stuff, go through the same stuff, run through the same stuff yet you're on the edge of your seat. That's the thrill of rewatching favorite movies.
"You remember this one, babe?" Her pretty head angles, making her look more endearing. "I'll be so mad if you don't."
Her lips. Can't take your eyes off them. Brush your fingers on them, feeling their softness, and she giggles. "I do," you say truthfully, tipping her chin up, "but tell me anyway."
"Hmph. You just want me to tell you 'cause you forgot, right?"
"Please." Smile at her. "Pretty, why would I ever forget that night?"
She grins. It's maddening the way the ends of her lips tilt upwards to make her eyes small. All those flashy whites on display, she explains it to you.
"This was the movie we watched on our first date." She kisses your thumb that plays on her lip. Her eyes shine with the narration. "The Notebook."
That seems like so long ago, but it feels like just yesterday when you were nervously shuffling on your then sofa, with the most beautiful woman in the world right next to you. She was and still is so charming, those brows full and mouth always in a state of joy.
Rachel McAdams was your first crush, but Eunbi owns your heart. She has her position locked into the core of your chest for eternity. 
"Y-you asked me what my favorite movie was," Eunbi says softly, stroking the back of your hand, "and you bought me chocolate and popcorn so we could watch it together."
Yep. You were broke back in those days, but you were also very young—that only meant you fell easily for girls with a pretty smile and a soft heart. You hadn't tripped anymore since then. When you fell for her, Eunbi stood you back up and gave you that sweet little smile again, then told you there was no more falling from here on out.
That was why you made ends meet and bought the chocolate you always saw her eat before she took tests. You even talked a cinema worker into letting you get two large buckets of cheese-flavored popcorn for a crashed price, just the way she liked it.
If there was a will, as they said, there was a way.
Things changed since then. You now had the money to go by and support your wife and Yujin, but your heart kept its strings hooked on Eunbi. She had knotted them to her little finger and never left you once.
Remembering these makes you chuckle. "I was a loser, wasn't I?" It's no meaningless self-deprecation—your college student self was down bad for her in ways you can't begin to describe. "I acted so stupid in front of you all the time."
"But I haven't had a guy that willing to be mine."
"Damn. I really am the best, huh?" You stroke her hair. Direct her face to the television screen but she looks back up at you anyway, and when she does you notice her eyes are full with love.
"You are,” Eunbi whispers. She wraps her arms around your waist. "You are."
Your heart beats positively with feelings of wholesomeness for the girl you're so lucky to have. She's amazing, and you feel so fortunate to have someone who loves you the same way you love her.
"Did I mention you were so cute?" you say with a laugh. "You cried while watching it even though it was like the millionth time, and that's—"
"—how we first kissed," Eunbi finishes. She covers her face, humiliated by how she acted in those youthful memories that come back. "You kissed me because I couldn't stop sobbing."
"Even back then you were a crybaby, huh?"
She sulks. "You know me. I'm very emotional. I was so upset and then more upset that when you kissed me I was all puffy and sniffly and—"
"Shhh." You pull her closer and kiss her head. "It was the best kiss I've ever had."
Eunbi looks down with a smile. Content with that, nods understandingly. You resume toying with her locks of ebony while the movie goes on.
You're watching an old favorite, yes, the one that got you and Eunbi linked by hand and eventually ring. It's special to you, a foundation of some sorts. But by the unfocused serenity in her eyes, you can easily figure that Eunbi didn't ask to watch it just for the sake of it. She wants more than alone time.
She wants you.
Halfway through the movie, the look in her eyes is still there. Hence, stringing her hair in between your digits, you ask, softly, "You didn't really want to watch something, did you?"
Eunbi's cheeks flush. Looking down shyly, she shakes her head. "No," she says in a small voice. "I mean, I did! But it was supposed to be like buildup so it can lead to the actual
 you know, but
"
You smile. God, she's adorable. You love it when she gets so small. It's an everyday look on her, but it remains as sweet as the first time you had the privilege to witness it.
You lift her up seamlessly and place her on your lap. Notice that the shorts she's wearing live up to their name with how they taper just barely at the beginnings of her soft thighs. They hide beneath the sweater that's twice her size, making her look cuter than she already is.
"Oh, Eunbi." Your hands hug her waist. It doesn't take much to figure out what she really wants. There's only one thing those watery eyes could possibly desire. "You could have just told me."
Eunbi realizes this and starts to whine again. "I'm sorry. I—"
"No, no." Your finger on her lips, you hush her before she could blame herself. "Don't be, understand? Just tell me what you want."
You want to hear her say it, to hear her tell you just how much she needs you. She looks at you nervously, and you rub down her thigh to encourage her. It's what the two of you are made for: to push and pull, go forward and take a step back. 
Eunbi stares at an odd spot on your shirt then sighs. "But you're so tired," she says wistfully.
"Listen: I never am for you. What is it?"
Silence full of hesitation and fear. 
Then, a revelation.
"I want you to fuck me, daddy."
She could have said that nickname alone and you would've known what she meant.
Eunbi's stomach presses against you. Each knee of hers is beside one of your respective hips. She's swallowing, clearly nervous, but continues closing herself to you. She finds comfort in the warmth of your body, and your encouraging timed squeezes on her waist.
Her breathing grows sporadic with every grope. She tenses up, too, and it's no use massaging her to help her loosen up when you swear to god she gets tighter each time.
"Daddy
" she moans, lip trapped under her teeth.
"Pretty?" You kiss the collarbone that peeks from the curved neckline of the sweater. "What is it?"
"Please, hold me. Take me to bed."
"Of course I will."
She whimpers when you take her into your arms and carry her again. Her little arms curl around your neck as you take her to your bedroom with the assurance that your daughter is asleep. Wouldn't want her to see how she was made.
You lay Eunbi on the bed. Kiss her. You're hung up on every aspect of her—her neck, her jaw, her collarbone. All those places deserve kissing since she's so perfect. Such a good girl, in every little way. 
But it's those lips that deserve yours. Her pink tiers are full and plump, and you dive into them gladly. Softness upon softness, you push her deeper into the soft resting place with how your lips ache to be engulfed with her. 
Eunbi closes her eyes. She's floating in the clouds. Your straying touch is too good, and your lips are more so. They know where to kiss so that she's giggling and squirming, know how to kiss so that her breath is gone. She's shuddering beneath you, and you have got to hold her steady as her soft whines fill your ears.
"You're so good, daddy," she gasps. "Oh, ohhh. So so good."
"You're better." 
Kissing Eunbi is always an ethereal experience. She's so eager and needy—she floats her back so her lips could clash deeper into hers and locks them so that they don't have anywhere else to go. Her hands are on the sides of your head, also locking it in place. You're going to be here forever, touching and feeling her.
You're okay with that.
"Not really," she says, shaking her head. She can't speak too well with your teeth nudging the skin of her neck. "Ah, I'm always so talkative and stuff and you have to listen. And you do, a-all the time."
"No no,” you tell her reassuringly. “I love hearing your voice, pretty. Mmm. Of course I would."
You're about to reach between her legs when you hear a soft bell sound come from your phone. Yujin's doctor? Your family? You don't know, but with the bell notification sound you reserved for messages from important people, it must be urgent. 
"Hold on." Stop and get up regretfully. Wipe your forehead of the sweat that accumulated from the heat of the moment. "I have to answer this."
"Awh." Eunbi isn't afraid to speak out her concern, even in a pouty little whine. 
"It'll be just a minute, I promise."
Ruffle her hair while checking your phone. Squint your eyes when you see that the notification is a text message from
 Eunbi?
Open it. Then, your voice gets stuck halfway in your throat.
It's a video she sent. Just the thumbnail tells you this isn't just any video. The automatic run of the clip only proves that.
There, on your screen, Eunbi dances in your bathroom, a flimsy see-through cardigan stuck in a wet sheen on her body. The Burberry bikini stands out as it holds her heavy breasts. She's running her fingers down on her figure, eyes never disconnecting from the camera, as the spraying water runs down her legs.
The audio is a familiar sound to Eunbi. Deja vu connects two and two together, and soon her hands are on her face. Your smile extends to your ears.
"What's this, pretty?" You wrap an arm around her and guide her closer. Make her watch her sultry video. "Wanted to make daddy need you?"
"No
 no, I'm sorry," she says meekly. Her eyes are all round and bright as they look up at you from behind curled fists. "I wanted to give you a gift, but then I thought it didn't go through since the internet got cut and—"
"You really thought to distract me at work? What if my coworkers see you on my phone putting on a show for me?"
"Daddy, I'm sorry." 
Your next command is blunt, almost intimidating: "On my lap. Bent over. Now."
It's supposed to be a punishment, but Eunbi's face lights up. She nods and does as she's told: she folds that amazing body on your thighs like it always does at your beck and call. Lift the ends of the sweatshirt so that her lower body is revealed to you. Her pretty backside is subjected to firm squeezes.
"Wanted this for so long, right, Eunbi?" 
You know her. You know she's been sexually frustrated all these weeks. You have been, too, but all these change today. You're actually going to work something out. 
The calm before the storm: your meaningful gropes on her supple ass cheeks. Fuck, no panties. Eunbi's just been waiting for it to happen all day, the naughty girl. She's looking back at you in anticipation as if this were something other than a punishment. 
"You waited, didn’t you? You wanted daddy to bend you over his lap and hit this perfect ass. I know you do." Your touch makes its rounds on her. "You're so fucking wet, too."
She nods. God, yes. She's been wanting this for so long. Working and caring for your daughter has held her up and left her deprived of your touch. You send shivers on her skin that's grown sensitive after weeks of no stimulation.
Then, it happens.
You raise your hand as high as it could reach, then throw it at the swells of her ass. Her cheeks bounce, a mesmerizing sight.
"Mmm, daddy," your wife purrs. Her backside blooms with red at your smacks. "That
 that feels so good. Really good."
"You're a freak," you chuckle. Don't stop, though. Spank her again as hard as you could; she tosses her head back.
"Of course. O-oh my god." Her eyes float shut. "Fuck, yes, daddy. I'm so wet, I need you so bad."
"Do you now?"
"Yes. I want it, please."
"We’ll see. You wanna say you're sorry?"
"Sorry," Eunbi whispers, muffling her face into the mattress. Maybe she is. "Hnn. Sorry. Sorry."
"I bet you are. Count."
As time goes by, your blows on her ass grow harsher and she barely gets the numbers out of her mouth. You have a feeling she'll lose count along the way. She does. Of course. You've been with her long enough to know how she works, how she unravels.
For example: this spank guarantees sticky wetness on your fingertips. 
It does.
Second: if you grope her tits right here, right where they rest above your thighs, she'll moan louder.
She does.
Third: if you tease your finger on her pussy, slightly rubbing her clit, she'll scream.
She—
"Daddy!" Eunbi sobs, rutting on your lap. "Fuck, fuck, why does it have to hurt so good? Daddy—"
"I said count, pretty," you reprimand her. As much as you love to hear how desperate she gets for you, the rules are clear. 
"God, please
"
"I know I fuck your brains out until you can't think, but I promise you I'm not the almighty."
"So mean. So full of yourself. H-hnn—!" Eunbi retracts her ass from your hand once you deliver what would have been the final scolding slap if she weren't acting up. "Daddy, please don't stop."
She should be hating the idea of this when it's supposed to be a punishment. She should be quivering under your hand, promising to be a good girl, your good girl. Instead, she's sobbing, begging for more like the pain it brings is essential for her to breathe. Like if you don't slap and smack her rippling ass, she'd go weak.
She's weak with or without. Real tears leak from her eyes and her whines have reached the maximum point of need. You can feel her wetness on your lap. 
"Count," you sneer. "From the top. I'll only ask again."
"Sorry. Hah. One."
"Bet you love this, don't you?" Slap her butt so it bounces in response. "Your cheeks are all sore and red for daddy now. But you want more. Why do you think you want more?"
She grows delightfully wetter. Your fingers stick with her juices.
"Oh," she whines, shutting her eyes. "Two."
"I think I know why. You're weak for anything daddy does to you. I could fuck you on the desk, fuck you in the waiting room at Yujin's school, and you'd be such a good girl. You'd be bending over letting me do it. Am I right, Eunbi? I think I am."
A waterfall starts from between Eunbi's legs at your words. She wants you to use her, to know that everything you said is right. She is a sucker for every little thing you want to do to her. 
She has to take a breather before saying, "Three."
"I think I know something else, too: you just want to be daddy's pretty little girl. It's all you ever want that you'd let me kiss and fuck you dusk to dawn. You'd even let me smack your ass all day and make you weak at the knees. It would be a shame if you came just from this spanking. But I know you will."
She clenches yet she can't fight off your harsh blows and firm squeezes. She can't count that many! Her poor butt is red and aching. Stopping is not an option though, not when she's looking at you with watery bunny eyes full of want and denial.
"Aww, princess, gonna cum? You look so close. You're shaking so much. Are you gonna cry? Cry because you want to cum so bad? Then do it, Eunbi. Cum all over me."
She shakes her head. "W-won't, cum
" She purses her lips and squeals, trying to fight off what's already in store for her. "Won't
 cum, da– daddy!"
It's the way she screams your name for help even if you're the one hitting her; the way she wails in your lap and remains there in spite of the spanks that follow each other at the heel; the way she screams out for you and a god that would have disapproved of what you two were doing. Eunbi kicks and struggles and spasms, actions ridden with tears. It's what drives your slaps to unfurl with a fury that you'd never dare do unto her if this setting were any different.
"Daddy, daddy! Ohh shit, please—"
Stuff your fingers into her small mouth and smack her rapidly. She screams and cries, clinging onto the last bits of sanity. You're too harsh with her. Shouldn't daddies be taking care of their baby girls? So why are you so mean?
And why is she loving it? 
"Oh no." Palm her ass. Gently squeeze its round globes then kiss her neck. "My poor, pretty little thing. Who did this to you? Who made you so wet and needy?"
It's the mixture of mockingness and concern that has Eunbi trembling on your lap. You could be so kind yet so cruel to her. Seeking solace in the gentle circles your hand makes, she whimpers out, "You, daddy."
"That's right." Nudge your erection to her mound. "And who's making me this hard?"
"Me." As she says it, her ears turn pink. You've praised her so many times and still her face grows warm with self-consciousness.
"Of course. You're too fucking pretty. Want to sit on daddy's lap?"
"Yessss, please." 
Eunbi wipes the tears from her eyes. Her legs are liquid, and you're required to help balance her when she stands up to sit down anyway on your legs anyway. 
She curls her legs into your lap and raises her fingers to her lips. You're rubbing her arm and telling her you're here, yet another truth. You'll always be here for her, even when you get rough with her. Don't mistake it all for merely lust.
This is what home feels like. 
Rock her for a while. Let her breathe. Carefully brush away a stray tear and kiss the place it used to reside. 
"I love you," you tell her. "I love you to death."
"I love you, too, daddy," she whispers. "My daddy."
She's trembling. You furl her into your arms more tightly and press your mouth to her hair. She pushes herself deeper into your touch appreciatively. 
With her hands returned on her lap like the good girl you made her and eyes tearful, she looks so cute. She looks like the girl who's exactly the type to get on your thigh and let you do whatever you want to her, and it couldn't be more accurate. She's perfect.
"Pretty girl, pretty girl. Eyes up here."
Eunbi's sniffling quietly, and you run your hand up and down her back to calm her sobs.  She redirects her focus. She's obedient now, following all the rules. 
You ask, gently, "Need to breathe?" 
"I'm okay, daddy," she says. She leans against your chest. "Thank you."
You nod. That's your go signal. Your green light.
So, your touch traces from her shoulders to under that big sweatshirt. Right there between those fantastic legs. The spanking left her weak and wet. Just a few rubs make you hear the slick sounds.
You feel her then, right there on her drenched core. She tenses up again. Her legs close yet you part them to gently, gently tease her nub. It only goes up and down like that but she's already quivering again.
That draws a gasp out of her. She looks at you, swallows, then closes her eyes tightly as you continue. Only soft whimpers squeeze past her lips. She's taking it all with such resilience that you're actually amazed. 
"That's it. So pretty and good for me. Maybe I should reward that, don't you think?"
Eyes still closed, she nods. Excellent. Test her limits with poking a single finger into her waiting pussy. 
That's how her eyes end up fluttering open. You finger her fast and hard, making the poor girl have to go through another bout of harshness. She's enjoying it in spite of it all; her pretty pussy just clenches perfectly around you, ever so wet. 
"Daddy." She says this with urgent breaths. "Daddy? Need you." Then her voice gets higher. "Daddy, please—p-please—"
"I'm here, hon," you say, reassuring her as you toy with her cunt. Her legs shake, but you carry on. "What does Eunbi want me to do?"
You're blocking her thoughts from forming. She lifts herself up and grinds blindly, but she knows she has to answer. She knows she has to tell you something, because that's what good girls do, right? And Eunbi's exactly that: your good girl. Your good, sweet little girl.
Oh, but she can't, she can't. She can't answer it when your fingers are all the way inside her, constantly shoving and pulling strings of moistness out of her. She turns to you and opens her mouth, but she never gets to say anything. 
It continues like this for lengthened moments, with Eunbi barely holding on and squirming on top of you, and your fingers neatly sheathing and unsheathing from her pussy. Her vulnerable expressions show that she can't talk or act properly—all she can do is moan and squeal and beg. 
It isn't a fair game. Recognizing this, you kiss the side of her head and propose, "Let's make this easier, pretty." 
And you make it anything but. You spread her legs and press her back snug to your arm. From there, you keep fingering her. Aim to ruin all the resistance in her pussy. Impossible; she's too damned tight. 
"Where would you like me to touch you?" you ask. "Your tits?"
Reach up under her clothes to feel her up. Squeeze her breasts. She squeezes up once more and sobs a little. The breaths leave her nostrils sharply when you start to grope her. 
"Mmm." Eunbi nods, but still looks unsure.
"Your thighs?"
Rub them down. They're always so meaty and soft. She purses her lips and nods at that, too.
"Or your ass?" you ask with a wicked grin.
Take one finger out of her and instead lead it to her asshole. Tap it teasingly. She scurries her butt into your hands.
"It could be anywhere, Eunbi. Just tell me."
Eunbi nods. But she needs to enjoy this for now. She lets you fuck her with your digits before settling for a decision. 
She touches your mouth with a quivering finger. "I need your mouth on my pussy, daddy," she says. "Please? I'll be careful not to hurt you, I promise."
You stop fingerfucking her. Place her gently beside you. Then, you move upwards before staying right below the headboard of your bed. Your back is flat on the mattress.
"No need to be careful," you tell her. She could break your neck and you wouldn't care. "Just come here and sit on my face."
Your blunt words make her blush. But she crawls up and spreads her legs. You're there to appreciate her beautiful legs and her shaven, pink little pussy. She looks down at you with concern, but you tap her thigh reassuringly. 
Convinced, Eunbi places herself gingerly on your mouth. The first contact is effective in breaking her again for she lets out a vulnerable little moan and raises her hips again, only to sit back down on you.
As expected, Eunbi tastes like everything sweet, everything beautiful. You slide your tongue up and down between her pussy lips, then flick it on her clit. She cries out, her hands instinctively going for your hair. But she remembers her promise to be careful. She's forced to have to bite on the back of her hand.
You make it more difficult for her. You love keeping her on her toes. Rest your hands on her thighs—her thick, full thighs—and pull her down. You don't care if she'll suffocate you; you'd give anything to have her reeling and crying. Her legs squeezing your head is your reward for eating her out so well.
"Daddy," she hiccups. She seals herself on your head and freezes due to the pleasure. "Feels so good, keep doing that, please."
How could you deny her of anything? She tastes so sweet and whines so prettily that you have no other path to go down than the way to eating her pussy harder. 
Kiss her labia lovingly, a teaser for the main thing, which is slipping your tongue all the way into her tight hole and circling it inside her. Waste no time in licking up and down, appreciating her folds. 
Her body barely weighs down on you. She remains afraid of hurting you, and you have to grip her hips to keep her down. Soon, it becomes a game of lifting and chasing, as if her cunt were a distant dream you only wish to attain.
You're determined though. Too determined for a dreamer. Your hands caress her fit ass to ease the pain your spanks induced and you reach deep inside her to trigger more juices into your mouth.
"Please, please, please—" Eunbi's voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands. She doesn't even know what she's begging for now. All her thoughts have vanished. You're dumbing her down into a shaky, squirting mess who needs only her daddy's mouth.
She's carefully grinding down on you, keeping herself slightly aloft so as not to crush you. But you insist on the opposite; you tug her down and seize her clit between your lips. Start to suck, hard.
She's not so careful anymore. 
"Daddy!" Her pussy crashes down on your face and begs for more of you, begging you to draw her needs beneath and fulfill it. 
Of course, you give in. You torture her clit with sucks that transcend control, keeping it latched tight between your lips, and grab your wife's hips to scurry her downwards. She can't go anywhere now.
"Oh—oh no, daddy," she gasps, her fingers curling around the headboard like ribbons, "don't do that! Don't do that, I'll cum!"
That's exactly your intention. Pulling down her thick thighs so that her pussy covers your face, you let your tongue dance and glide everywhere on her eager little core. Eunbi screams. Tears pour down her face as her juices spill down on you. You lap her nectar up the best you can, but some still slide on your chin, as well as the sides of your face. You make up for the lost drops and instead go for those that are dripping directly from her cunt—yes, this will make you a god. Feels accurate when you’re already in paradise with Eunbi’s legs around you and her screams filling your ears like prayer.
"Daddy, slow down a little!" Eunbi yells. Her thighs crush your head while her hips cringe to and fro. She purses her lips before letting out a feral cry. "Daddy!"
You follow up with a few last licks at her sensitive clit. Eunbi's out of breath, but you're not, despite being held captive by her thighs just a few seconds prior. That's why your lips still find her pussy, bringing it to complete weakness, cornering its sensitivity and preying on it. Eunbi sobs, wrists on her face, as you continue violating her pussy. You're never leaving it unattended.
"Daddy," she says tiredly. "Oh, daddy, too much, daddy—"
The natural flood of her orgasm overflows. You tap on her thigh encouragingly and open your mouth to taste her. "Yes, yes, that’s it, you’re so fucking delicious. Daddy loves when you cum on his face. Come on, baby, come on, my good girl."
Eunbi's legs give out. She moves away from your head in order not to hurt you and collapses on your bed. Her whole body is aquiver.
"Daddy," she calls out for you. "Daddy, please."
"You're alright, baby," then trail your thumb along her chin and jaw; guide her with demonstrations and soft words, "take a deep breath." 
The overstimulated girl quivers and mewls. 
"You're alright," you say. Kiss that forehead that's recently been covered with a cute fringe, and then kiss her mouth. "My pretty girl's alright. Daddy loves you."
It's a reminder that you'll make again and again without getting tired. Eunbi's so lovely that you want to make her know she's safe with you, that she's loved.
Her reply is expected but relieves you anyway. "I love you, too, daddy." 
Her breath catches as you kiss her. It's messy, torrid, too, when her hands hook into your head with a touch that's weak yet worshipful. 
“Mmm, my daddy, my only daddy.” She kisses you sloppily, almost drunkenly. One thing leads to another, and your hands are on her hips to lead her on your lap again. Her breathy bedroom voice turns you on so much. “I love you. Daddy, I love you so much.”
"Just wanted to taste yourself on my lips, didn’t you?” you ask. You see right through her.
She blushes. There's your answer.
“No problem with that. You taste delicious. Here.” 
Swiping up a line of slick from her delicate pussy, you guide your slick fingers into her mouth. She latches onto them and holds your wrist in place as her sweet mouth seeks to taste everything. 
"Thank you," she murmurs. "Love you. So good to me."
This is what paradise is. Eunbi's broken words spill from the sides of her mouth while she licks her cum off your fingers. Her eyes are closed, deep in worship for you. What a worst time to be religious. After having just spanked her and eaten her delicious pussy, she has no place to be saintly. Sacrilege at best. 
But you let her, since she's so good. Such a good girl for you.
"You’re good to me, too, pretty." The nickname has not once left your mouth with how it fits her so much. The bangs she sports and those naturally full, pouty lips make her the most beautiful woman in the world. "Since you're such a thankful princess, you deserve to cum again. You want to cum again?"
"Really? Daddy? Daddy, you'll let me cum again?" 
"You don't want to?"
"No, no, I want. I want it." Eunbi nods her head and looks up at you with desperation. "Make me cum again."
"So demanding," you reprimand her. "Guess you don't want me to go through and worship these?" 
Reach up behind her and touch her right where everyone expects you to: her large, round tits. They're what everybody looks at, and it honestly makes you feel a little possessive. But you always are reminded of how right they could be. They look so full even behind thick fabric.
"Daddy!" They're also where she's most sensitive. She lets out tiny squeals all while you're having your wicked way pinching the pink tips.
"Ohh, you like that, huh?" You squeeze; she locks her legs together and whines. "Makes you want to scream for me? Scream and yell like a needy little girl?"
You know how this goes. Given the sensitivity on her breasts, she'll whine out and beg more than she would if you touched her anywhere else. She'll probably even cum on the spot like she did when you spanked her. There's a common factor here, you think. Gotta place what that is.
Eunbi's eyes water and she says, "Daddy, please. I need you, don't be mean to me."
Found it. It’s you. Not to be narcissistic and everything, but it’s definitely you.
"Alright. Take your clothes off. Want to see how pretty you look under all of them."
She lifts her shirt up. Your mouth waters. Each bit of her perfect, curvy body is uncurtained—the flat of her tummy, the curves of her hips, the undersides of her breasts. Then her breasts themselves. The deep cleavage has your eyes coming out of their sockets, along with the massive recoil they do as they're released from the hem.
Her hair is messier now. The neckline and fabric did a number on them. The fringes are all over the place. 
Laugh fondly. Meanwhile, you straighten her bangs. "You alright there, pretty?" you say. 
"Mhm," she hums, giggling, too, albeit shyly. Then her eyes turn needy, their glimmer unmistakeable. "Please?"
You push her down gently on the pillows, pinning her back to the blankets. Her long hair is in a disarray behind her as you kiss her body. The flat of her tummy tenses when you press your lips there. What really gets her moaning, however, is your mouth on her tits. Her beautiful, perfect tits.
Press them together with a hard squeeze. Run your tongue on one of the hard nipples. She sharply gasps, looking down at your sinful little doings. You gaze back up at her with unwavering eye contact as you suck on her nipple as you did to her clit.
Same effect. She's whining again. 
"Daddy, daddy, daddy—" 
You've lost count of the many times she's said that. 
You don't mind adding a lot more to the list.
"What is it, baby?" 
Eunbi makes her desires known through bated breaths and little moans. "Now,” she says. “Inside me. Please."
It takes no time taking your pants and briefs off. It is painful, though; your cock is a rod solid and lengthy for the idea of fucking your wife after all those weeks of being held back. Her naked body waiting for you just tempts you even more. Her legs are spread, her face radiates need, and her pussy is dripping wet. You know she wants you the same way you want her.
So why hold back?
You can’t hold back your feral pump nor your groan either. Slipping inside Eunbi’s warm, drenched pussy is like reminiscing a wild memory. Her grip brings you back to all the times you’ve made love to her, right on this bed, until she curled up and begged you to go faster. It makes you promise to give it to her this time hard and fast, the way you know she likes it.
Give her every inch, then take them back. Give them again. Withdraw. You choose this cycle and Eunbi couldn’t love it more. You have to battle with the tightness her pussy inflicts all the time, and it’s both a pro and a con with how it hugs your length and caresses it with the texture of her walls while refusing to let you in. You can see Eunbi’s face twist as she tries to relax, but each part of you that she’s fed, she ends up tightening and moaning again.
“You’re fucking me s-so well,” says Eunbi strainedly. Her fingers sink into the sheets as she trembles with your unforgiving thrusts. “I missed this so much.”
You did, too. You missed controlling Eunbi sexually, having her weak and on her knees. You missed the comfort of her warm little hole that’s always skilled in its job of milking you dry. It’s still strong and exceptional in its talent.
Eunbi’s noises are loud and unbridled. She always drones on and on, something that makes her cuter than she already is, and there’s no difference in the bedroom. She moans and talks about how amazing it feels, how you’re penetrating her perfectly. And all the same, you love hearing her.
“So fucking tight,” you say. You just have to drive your hips upwards, to send her rocking to and fro. “Take it all, okay? I know my pretty girl can do it. She’s the perfect thing for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”
Eunbi’s ears grow pink. She nods, because that's another thing that’s true. She is your perfect girl, your only girl you’d take at night. Your husky words of praise go at odds with how you’re fucking her, with her ass up in the air and her legs in your hard touch, but it turns her on so much that she’s willing to do anything—anything for you to go on and have your way with her.
And have your way with her you do. You push yourself past her pussy lips and let them hug the sides of your length after you fill her up entirely. Her cunt pulsates, and it drives you to drop the whole of your hips in between her legs, flicking past her G-spot.
“M-mmm!” Even with just a hum, Eunbi stutters. Your hands on her tits kneading and tightening make her lose all common sense. Coupled with your cock ruining her insides, she can’t think straight. 
She doesn’t have to when you’re here to catch her. You’ll think for her so she’s allowed to lie back. Right now, you’re thinking of completely ruining her.
“Oh, oh my god, daddy,” she says the moment you thrust up into her with more precise strokes. She looks down at your cock swiftly drilling her. "That's—so—ffffuck!"
Eunbi begins to curl up, the heat overtaking her, but you spread her legs. Force her to take you by stuffing her cunt even more. Her tightness grows and soon she's yelling, almost in an episode of frenzy. 
You're humping her like you need it as much as you would water and food, without care for how much you're digging her into the blankets or how much she screams. There's only one thing you want and that is to be buried all the time in her sweet little pussy. You can tell that it's what she wants, too—her hips gyrate, weak yet determined, and she's filling the room with her screams.
"Yes, yes, yes." She places a hand over the back of your own that's on her breast. "Fuck me, hurt me, d-do whatever you want with me, I'm just your pretty girl—daddy, don't stop, please!"
To hear her talk about herself so lewdly and feed your mind with the idea that you could do anything to her makes you force your groin up and slam her legs on your shoulders. Fight against the resistance of her pussy, slap her bouncing thighs, push only forward to fill her up.
"I promise, Eunbi, I'm not stopping," you say, a new oath made. You lean in darkly and stare right into her eyes. They're that of a prey's; she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're squirting and crying, and I know that's what you want, right? To have daddy make you cum like he always does?"
"Yes, faster, please!"
"Fuck." You pause, and before she could complain, you place a hand on her throat and push her down. "Then you're gonna fucking get it."
She's talked to you about this before. She's proposed to have you pin her down and choke her, shyly saying it with a cutesy plea to her words, but you always refused. You didn't want to go too far. Now, however, you give her what she wants: 
Close your hand around her neck. The look on her face is immaculate—her eyes are wide with both bliss and thrill, and her mouth is open. For the first time, she doesn't make any noise. She's letting it all out in a silent, withheld scream. 
Squeeze. She gasps. There's a river of wetness inside her; it flows freely and limitlessly, pouring onto your shaft and the sheets. 
"God, pretty," you say lowly. "Your pussy gets so tight when I choke you. Like you want me to keep choking you until you beg and beg. What's with that now? I thought you wanted me to be gentle."
Your hips don't stop; they're almost invincible. They don't tire of pistoning in between her legs. And Eunbi doesn't get tired of squeezing, of crying. Her whole body's in desperate heat, and you're the bad predator giving in to it. You’re using her, violating her—and she’s sprawled out taking it all, loving each second of it.
You firmly pinch her nipple. Her frozen, desperate look is broken with her loud scream. Its volume is tightened when you curl your fingers harder into the flesh of her neck. That's the neck you've kissed before, when she wanted to make love and when she needed a hug—it's so out of character for you to suddenly be using it in depriving her of a breath she so desperately needs.
“What? Can’t speak?” you say. Words say themselves without your mind registering them first. Even so, Eunbi clings to each and uses them to roll her core harder into your erection. “Is daddy choking you too hard? You’re so fucking wet from me doing it, pretty. I should do this more to you. I’d fucking keep you here and choke the hell out of you.”
Oh, the fantasy is tempting. You imagine calling a day off from work, as hard as it is to register for one, and using it to fuck your wife in all the corners of the house. With Yujin at school and the schedule empty, you could fill her pussy with cum and have her bent in all the best positions, each done with your hand on her throat. By the helpless look on her face, you know she loves the idea, too.
“Yes, daddy!” she screams. Those are your words of affirmation. Her gasps for air leave her more often, yet you keep your hand pinned to the base of her neck. “More, I need more, please give me more!”
“Look at you. You’re crying so hard. I can feel your throat pulse. You need to breathe so bad. But you want daddy’s cock more. What should I give to you then, huh, baby?”
“M-make me cum! Make me cum instead, daddy, I don’t need anything else!”
You could do that. It’ll happen anyway. She’s far too tight for one person to handle, backfiring on her so much that it drags her closer to the edge. And you’re pushing her with each thrust, with no offer of rescue.
“Such a spoiled little girl,” you tut, leaning in to bite her ear, “but so fucking pretty.”
Pretty girls like her, no matter what they do, deserve to cum. Swing yourself deep in between the hanging pillars of her legs and cum she does. Mouth open and on the cliffs of desperation and submissiveness, she lets out a squeezed scream. Her fist is firm on your wrist, making sure it doesn’t leave her throat as the thrill of the danger makes her cum harder than she thought she would.
Finally, your hand loosens. She gasps. Her wonderful chest rises and falls, air finally entering her lungs. Her head feels light; it’s the most gratifying experience she’s had in a while. 
It’s the same for you. Maybe the sexual frustration that accumulated over the weeks was a good thing. You let it all out on her and now you’re throbbing.
“Daddy?” She’s a survivor of a storm who just emerged from the flood of lust.
“Yeah?” You soothe her, like you always do whether after sex or when she’s overwhelmed. “You want anything?”
“Think
 you need to look at the time.”
“Let me run you a bath first, please, baby?” You lean down and kiss her forehead, rubbing the space on her chest where her heart beats fastly. It worries you, and for a moment you wonder if you should ever do this again. She’s catching her breath and failing. “You’re so worn out.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, daddy, listen to me, please?” She closes her eyes to collect her composure that was lost after and while you fucked her.. “Look at the time.”
“It’s
” You steal a look at the digital clock sitting on your bedside table. It’s sometime after twelve midnight. “Midnight.”
“And you, haah, know what that means, right? Right?”
“It’s
” 
It hits you. The knowledge infiltrates your brain and suddenly all lust is gone. Your heart’s only filled with feelings of affection for the girl you’re incredibly lucky to share your love and home with. You welcome her into the depths of your embrace.
“It’s the twenty-seventh,” you murmur. “Your birthday.”
Your own heart starts to beat faster at the thought. Eunbi’s just spent another year with you, another year with Yujin. Your family grows everyday with love, and it brings you more satisfaction than your job could.
You look at Eunbi. Observe her sharp nose, beautiful hair, and lips that are always calling out for you. You realize in that moment that you can’t be more grateful that she’s the girl you married. There are plenty of girls out there who might have wanted you, but your heart doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to her, your wife. Your princess.
“Happy birthday.” Stroke her hair and gently tuck it behind a red ear. “Baby girl, I’m so grateful to have you, you know?”
She flushes. Eunbi loves that you’re always there to tell her she means something. “Thank you.”
You ought to do something special for her. She works so hard and loves so hard that it’s only right that her birthday is special. But your ideas are simple, and you decide to just let her choose. Anything she wants, you’ll give.
“What do you want us to do today?”
Eunbi takes a moment to inhale, then opens her eyes. She’s never looked more sure. Though her voice is weak, it holds conviction.
“I want us to stay here in this bedroom, daddy.” She clasps your hand and places it from her face to her pussy. “I want you to fuck me harder. I want you to do it until I can’t feel my legs.”
Your eyes widen. She’s never been this upfront. It’s rare to see that firm look in her irises.
“Then
” Eunbi pauses although she knows what to say next. She knows what she wants from you. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”
The silence from your end is lined with shock. You can’t say anything—your words are lost in the ends of your mouth due to the feeling of Eunbi’s slick, hot pussy under your touch. She’s as wet as she was before. She obviously wants more.
“You didn’t cum yet,” she explains. She grinds your fingers on her lacy, wet core, and whimpers at how hot it feels post-orgasm. “So when you do, I want it all here. Right here. It’ll fill me up so much that I might get pregnant.”
It’s been a while since you released inside Eunbi. You’ve always taken special care to practice safe sex, even unprotected. You’ve let her swallow your cum instead or unloaded into a rolled condom. Now, the offer she’s making—of bearing you another child, of letting you give her another little joy to take care of—has you speechless. Would she really let you?
“You’ll do it for me, right?” Eunbi rolls on top of you, her amazing body pressed to your skin. Although she’s above you, she couldn’t be more of a submissive, needy girl. Each limb of hers strains to be touched and controlled. There’s a reason she wants you as her birthday present. “You’ll pound me full of cum and drill it all into my womb, all so I could be your pregnant birthday girl?”
“Pretty
” you say, not knowing what else to tell her. Hesitation curls around your mind and body. You’re not totally convinced she’s sure about this.
Her large eyes are wanton with lust and her lower lip’s sealed beneath those teeth. She nods, happy that you finally responded. 
“Yes, yes, that. You always call me pretty, daddy, and
 I really like it. But can you imagine how much prettier I could be if you gave me your baby? My tits would look even bigger, and they’d be so sensitive that if you sucked them, I’d cum on your lap instantly.”
How do you breathe again?
“And when people ask me about us, I’ll be the good wife at your side, standing there and saying I’m just so happy to have my daddy’s baby.”
The thought of Eunbi shaking as you overstimulated her by just playing with her nipples makes you warm on the inside and out. Additionally, that image she painted of herself: the silent girl, the pretty wife beside you who’s full with a baby and wearing a smile so innocent it deceives people of what she wanted today—it makes you feral. Not even warm or hot, just the pure carnal desire to knock her up.
“And you know what else, daddy?”
“W-what?” Now you’re the one who feels like they were just left in a chokehold minutes ago. Your mind just runs with ideas of fucking her senseless.
“They’re going to think we planned it all along. But no; what they don’t know is that it was by chance. That Eunbi asked for it suddenly, and you gave in. You gave her creampie after cream—”
Well, you could say that you’re easily convinced.
Eunbi’s prone when you switch positions, quickly taking back your lost power and pinning her back down. You press her legs together and push them down; she peeks from behind them, thrilled to see what you would do after she successfully riled you up. Obviously, you don’t give it to her just yet; you set your cock on her splayed pussy lips and start to grind down on her. 
“Thirsty brat,” you tell her. You tighten your squeeze on her ankles so she remains still while you hump her, but never really giving her the real thing. Groan; even without penetrating her, she feels wet and hot. “When did pretty become such a bad girl?”
Her clit throbs and you do, too. Why are you lying to yourself and acting like you don’t want to dick her down? 
“Bred, bred, bred. Need to be bred.” Eunbi’s lower body rolls. She’s panting. “Need to feel your big cock inside me.”
Fuck, you’re gonna give in anyway. You say: “What’s the magic word?” 
Eunbi swallows. You think you’ve seen that before. She was underneath you that time, too. “Please, daddy.”
The magic word is “please,” but if she says your favorite name with that, there’s a hundred percent chance she’ll get what she wants. She increases the chances with her downturned little mouth and her hands folded together. You don’t know if you should cuddle or fuck her. That’s your daily dilemma with Kwon Eunbi.
“Ahhh, so big!” 
Her shout of pleasure is instant, and it continues with the rhythm of your pumps. You don’t bother creating a buildup—it’s her birthday; she’ll get what she wants. And you know that Eunbi likes it rough and hard. Don’t mind the bruises and spots of red on her skin and ass; it’s what she craves more than anything.
You do, too. But this experience is more gratifying because you actually get to stay inside her hole when you cum. Your seed would go straight to her womb, and everyone would know that it’s you who made her pregnant. Moan at that concept which gives strength to your muscles to keep pushing, keep thrusting, keep bringing you to orgasm so your wife, who you’d do anything for, would get what she wants.
You make sure each thrust you inflict on Eunbi’s fertile body hits her cervix, a prophecy of what’s to come. She groans helplessly—her knuckles turn white as they grip the fabric beneath her that’s sure to be stained with both of your juices. Who cares, though? It would be a constant reminder of the night you made Eunbi’s birthday wish come true. It would be a memory of what brought your future child into the world.
“I want it deep, daddy!” gasps Eunbi. “So deep that I can’t feel anything, daddy, harder, please!”
She knows the power in her begging and how easily you fold for a girl like her. You’d give her another spanking for that, but you give her a punishment she benefits from anyway: rougher thrusts that slap your balls to her spanked ass.
But she’s the birthday girl. So you fulfill her desire and drive yourself into her core until your balls aren’t just slapping her ass anymore but are pressed firmly to her crotch.
“Oh yes! Just like that!” Eunbi levitates her back off the creaking cushions and screams. You’re starting to fear she’ll wake Yujin. Good thing she sleeps like a log. “Pound me, cum inside me!”
It seems like there’s degrees of roughness you haven’t reached yet. Your thrusts grow in speed and harshness as time goes by, and the strength is limitless. Although you’re only doing the same thing which is fucking Eunbi in hopes of breeding her, your tempo doesn’t stay the same. It hits her with a force impelled by lust, pushing the sins deeper inside her that it starts to corrupt her, too.
Your balls are heavy with an impending load. Slapping her thighs, you momentarily part them so you could rub her clit side to side, the way you know she’s weak for. Eunbi’s expression changes into bliss to paradise itself—her tightness chokes your length from head to base.
"God fuck!" Eunbi lets out a spray of wetness as her body thrusts upwards. "Cumming!"
Oh she’s cumming alright, but she’s also squirting. There’s no time to weep over not putting a towel beneath her; you’re stuck watching Eunbi’s pussy become soppier while it releases a messy jet of girl cum. You marvel at how more comes out if you give it to her harder.
Ever the crybaby even in sex, tears start to fall down in little droplets down her red cheeks. They source from all three: pleasure, pain, overstimulation. It’s destroying her and yet she relishes each hit.  
“Do it now, please, it’s too much! Breed me now—c-can’t—take—it!”
Shove yourself to the depths of her and unload. Your wife exhales repeatedly. There’s so much of your sticky load that it overflows inside her hole and creams her outer lips. Push yourself further and pull her legs up so it’s all guaranteed to go to her womb.
“Like this, pretty? Your pussy’s gonna take every drop, right?” Even in your craze of lust you could hear yourself weakening.
The cum that shoots into her never seems to stop.
“Yes, so much,” Eunbi moans quietly. Her arms are limp beside her. As her consciousness dies, her orgasm lives on. “Breed me, daddy, ohhh
 breed me
 breed
 me
”
-
Yujin’s thick black hair, all inherited from her mother, looks perfect today. What makes it more satisfying is that those braids running down her head and the cute pigtails were fixed by you. 
“Wow, it’s so perfect!” Your daughter admires herself in the vanity mirror and grins up at you. “Thank you, papa!”
Her young yet advanced vocabulary makes you chuckle. As you hear it, you realize you can’t wait until she grows up and starts to talk even more beautifully, like the words she takes from the books you always see her nose buried in.
It’s 7:00 AM, and Yujin’s bus is about to come to the driveway. You’re lucky to have finished fixing her hair on time. That’s partly why you reciprocate the smile. The main reason is that your daughter manages to chip away your tiredness and make it all worth it.
“Of course, Yujin,” you say. “Be good at school, okay?”
“I always am, papa!”
Your daughter always carries this confidence wherever she goes. You’re glad you and Eunbi raised her properly so she isn’t doubtful of herself. She’s going places—the girl’s only six yet she speaks and multiplies better than you can. Not that you’re embarrassed; it makes you more proud of her.
“And behave for your mommy, okay? It’s—”
“—her birthday!” she finishes giddily. Yujin never forgets anything, especially birthdays. She just celebrated hers a month ago. “Can I greet her?”
Pause. Has Eunbi recovered or is she laying there getting off to what happened? “Maybe later?” you say, hoping not to sound suspicious. “Mommy’s
 just having a sleep-in day. Just make her a card or write her a poem when you come back home.”
“Okay!” Yujin replies. She turns her head to the yellow bus peeking at the semi-circular window of the door. “Bye, papa!”
You tell her the same. Wave goodbye to her. You make sure she gets on the bus before turning away. Time to attend to your other princess.
Usually, you’d spend time admiring your house as you walk to wherever you need to go. You’re proud of the bookshelves and design, but today is a day different from all the others. You only have one clear vision the moment you open the door of your room with your wife.
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She’s sound asleep. Her little body’s curled up under the comforter and her head is nestled in the hood of the zipperless jacket you changed her into the night before. She looks so adorable in it that you want to just take her into your arms and bite her cheeks. You have strange instincts when it comes to seeing your wife, who could switch between being a sexbomb to a girl you’d protect any time of the day.
Unlike Yujin, she’s a light sleeper, for she catches your footsteps seconds before you crash down into the mattress with her. 
“Daddy?” she asks sleepily. She reaches for you. You catch her hand.
“Too early for that, isn’t it?” You smile into her hair anyway. “Good morning, pretty. Happy birthday.”
The nickname isn’t sexual anymore. It’s a pet name now, a call for you to take care of her. And you do your duty well, gathering her into your touch and keeping her protected from the cold.
Eunbi says her thank you, then blinks.“Y-Yujin, she still has to dress—”
“I took care of it.” You gently guide her back down in your arms. “She's on the bus.”
The panic dissolves from her face. She turns around to hug you back. All she says is contained in a little whisper: “Thank you, daddy.”
She throws a knee over your hip and ushers you to herself. As expected, to be honest. Eunbi loves all forms of affection, especially the physical kind. So you give her all of it: a kiss, a tighter embrace, a touch that wanders but not too far. Like you said, it’s too early.
Eunbi hums into your neck. “I’m so happy.”
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm. You make me happy.”
“You just want to get bred again,” you joke. Kiss away the pouty look on her face. “I’m kidding. You make me happy, too, pretty.”
What you say is nothing short of the truth. Eunbi fills your life with purpose. You wake up and keep doing so to make sure she has someone. You work so she’s well provided for, even if she has her own job herself. You come home so that the nights aren’t lonely. You know a lot of men who couldn’t say the same about their relationship with their wives.
You’re happy to be the different one for once. You’ll always love Eunbi. Even after you die, you’d be looking out for her, if there ever is an afterlife.
“You and Yujin are the most important people to me,” you tell her. 
“Well, after you bred me
” Eunbi smiles slyly. “There’ll be another important person in your life, daddy.” A pause. “Maybe we’ll name them Wonyoung?”
You shrug. You don’t know. But then you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her. You act on it, pecking her. It turns into something deeper, and soon you’re on top of her again, rendering her whining once more.
As you kiss Eunbi, you realize that there’s no sure path to the future. But all you know is that you’ll stay with her along the way, and that you’re excited for all the good things to come.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year
Text
The Werewolf’s Bitch
Yandere Male Werewolf x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, breeding, knotting, inhuman genitals, reader eaten out, drool, piss marking, watersports, scent marking, lycanthropy, reader bitten by werewolf at end, smut, kidnapping, reader briefly stalked, general yandere behavior, yandere bully, bullied reader)  Word Count: 4.4k (Sorry that this is being reposted, I needed to edit the story and tumblr would not let me until I just deleted the whole thing, anyway, I worked extremely hard of this so I could hurry up and do more commissions, I am panicking because the window for cool season planting is nearly upon us. I normally would NOT rush to post a fic in the same day that I already posted one. I know the watersports is not everyone’s thing, but it has been a while since I wrote a fic with that kink and when I asked reader’s whether or not I should I got only positive responses, so I hope some people like this)
You were a librarian, you had always had a penchant for books, an obsession really, and you loved reading many different kinds. Right now you were reading The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud,  it was a fantasy series. It didn’t matter whether or not you liked the fantasy genre, your friend who was not super into reading kept recommending the series to you so you had to give it a shot. You were enjoying the light breeze and gentle sunshine towards the back of the park, in a lightly wooded area where the park gradually shifted into a forest. Leisurely, you continued to read until the sun just began to set. Little did you know someone was watching you from the trees. Axle hadn’t seen you in years, though it wasn’t uncommon for his thoughts to drift to you. He had a serious crush on you in high school, but so worried about his image he had not wanted to date the nerd so he bullied you instead. Relentlessly. He often thought what if he had been sweeter on you and more up front about his feelings, he’d probably have his arms wrapped around you and his cock buried deep inside you. Axle still would have picked on you, of course, it was how he showed affection and dominance, but it wouldn’t have been nearly cruel and relentless as it had been. And he would have been really sweet to you at times too, since he was sure little nerdy bookworms liked that kinda shit. His life wasn’t all bad though, he had been “afflicted” with lycanthropy. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the legends and folklore made it seem, for most people. Most were not feral and could freely change forms whenever they wished, from human, to wolf, and to the bulky hybrid form that most people thought of when they heard the word “werewolf.” There were exceptions though, some people did go feral in their wolf forms and change unwillingly during full moons. An encounter with one such creature was what had passed on the magical gift to him. Now his life was free, he lurked the woods for prey, hunted and then cooked what he had caught in a large cave he had claimed as his den. The lifestyle suited him, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, but it was a lonely existence and he wished he had a mate. Axle had been walking around, contemplating what he could do to get some friends or maybe even a lover when suddenly his nose, now hypersensitive even in his human form, picked up a familiar scent. One that he had not smelled in years but nevertheless one that he would be able to place anywhere. He had stolen whiffs of you while having you in headlocks and pushing you into lockers, had deeply inhaled the aroma of your underwear after sneaking into the locker room and stealing them whenever he was sure he wouldn’t get caught. So when he caught your wonderful smell in the breeze he bolted towards it. Just to watch, he thought to himself. And he did just watch, for a while. His eyes drank in your sight as the golden afternoon sun illuminated you so perfectly. Still such a fucking bookworm, reading all the way out here. The more he looked at you the tighter his pants got, would it really be such a bad thing if he just took you away? He could steal all the books you could want if that made you happy. You’d look so cute reading by the fire before he impaled you on his dick. It wasn’t like you could get away from him, even without his new found abilities he was faster and stronger than you could ever hope to be, but now that he was supernaturally imbued there was no chance you could ever get away from him. If you screamed it was okay, there were no witnesses around for the abduction and when he was fucking you back in his den there would be no one around for miles. He readjusted his cock in his torn jeans, fully erect at the thought. He talked himself into it. It wasn’t that hard, this may be his chance to have the future with you he had missed out on previously. You started to get up to leave, placing the book you had been reading into your backpack with the rest of your books that you planned to get through. Suddenly someone rushed out from the trees and snatched your backpack before you could put it on, running with it deeper into the forest. All you could see was their back as they ran off. Axle made sure not to run too fast because he knew you would chase him without thinking to get your precious books. “Please stop! Please! There’s nothing in there other than books! Please!” You screamed and chased the figure deep into the forest, until a chill ran through you as you looked around. You no longer recognized where you were and it was getting ever darker. Axle could have just used force to bring you this far, but he was enjoying playing with you like he used to. Just as you began to turn around and give up on the figure before you he turned around and was on you in an instant.
You recognized him immediately as you saw his face before he put his arm around your neck and licked up your neck creepily. You’d never forget who those mischievous eyes, cruel smirk, snake bite piercings and spiky punk style blond hair that was shaved at the sides belonged to.  
“A-Axle!? What the heck!? Let go! Wh-what do you want with me,” your voice was filled with fear and your eyes began to water, threatening to cry. “Well, you were in my neighborhood and I thought we could catch up~” You kept struggling in his grip, but you were winded from the chase earlier. What he said made no sense, there were no nearby homes, but you were a bit too busy to really contemplate his words. You punch and kicked at him but he just laughed like he had just heard the most hilarious joke, it would have been very insulting if being in a dark forest being manhandled by your old bully wasn’t so terrifying. Axle moved his arm around your neck then ruffled your hair, something about the gesture made you think he wasn’t out to just kill you. But then he gripped your arm tighter and started dragging you deeper into the woods. Your writhing and struggles to free yourself from his iron grasp did nothing to slow him down in the least. There was still a long way to go though, and instead of dragging you and hurting your much more delicate arms he hoisted you into his arms and slung you over his shoulder before starting to run at a speed not normal for a human. This also had the added benefit of scaring you and making you cry those adorable tears of yours. You kicked and screamed the whole time he held you, but the only thing you managed to accomplish was a severely sore throat and further exhaustion. In only a few short minutes Axle covered quite a distance with you. Not tired or out of breath at all despite the speed he ran at or the fact that he was carrying an entire adult on his shoulders. When he arrived at the cave he sat you down on a large bundle of stolen pillows, coats, blankets, and other soft materials. “W-where are we? Wh-why did you bring me here,” you asked almost unintelligibly through the hoarseness of your voice and the fear causing you to stammer. The fear you felt actually tugged a tiny bit at Axle’s heart, he just wanted to teasingly scare you, not make you all terrified. Poor little wimp. His little wimp, he thought, feeling a bit fluttery. Axle sat down beside you and roughly pulled you into his lap before caressing your arm and holding you close, in a manner he thought may be comforting. “What are you d-d-doing!? I don’t like this!” You were, understandably, immensely uncomfortable. Your former bully had his hands all over you. Did he think this was a hilarious prank? And why did he live in a cave? Was he a serial killer that lived in the woods in search of victims?? With each question your heartbeat increased.   Axle could hear your heartbeat. Still so sweet and fearful, just like you always had been~ But he didn’t want you to only associate him with fear and have a heart attack every time he held you. “Shhh, babe, shhh. It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you okay? I’ll keep you nice and safe~” Apparently he was not tactful enough to realize that licking and sucking at your oh so sensitive neck, was not very soothing to you. When you thrashed more and not less he got the memo and just held you close instead. There would be time for other stuff later. Right now holding you was enough, drinking in your scent like it was booze, and it was almost more intoxicating. He laid down on his side and pulled a very confused and scared you close to him once more, his arms hugging you tightly as if clinging to a life preserver. While Axle had never slept better than that night with you in his arms you stayed up until sheer exhaustion forced you into a troubled sleep. And when he woke he was so happy, he had half been worried everything had been a dream but no, you were really in his arms like you should have been for all these years. Axle wanted you to be awake so he determined that the most prudent way to wake you up was to pinch your ass. Much to his satisfaction, you woke up easily with a startled yelp, almost jolting off of the bedding. You were confused for a moment as your brain scrambled to remember where the fuck you were and why the fuck you were there instead of at home in your comfortable and familiar bed. And what had just assaulted your butt? Then the memories of the night before smacked into you like a brick wall. Axle. He had kidnapped you and spooned you all night for some unknown reason. Probably some sick prank, if he was just going to beat you up and murder you he would have done that already right? Not say all that stuff trying to comfort you before sleeping by you. Axle pulled you close and once again drew his tongue slowly up your cheek, like it was some sort of odd kiss, it creeped you out but you didn’t say anything opting instead to flinch away at his touch. “Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy, I haven’t hurt you,” he said smirking, obviously enjoying the bit of fear he caused from such a small action. “A-are you ever going to tell me why the hell you made me come here?” “What? I haven’t made you cum yet! Hahaha, I will later though.” You rolled your eyes at his juvenile joke but he just stared at you with a hungry look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m serious! Wh-why am I here, this is insane and illegal! I-I’m leaving!” You started to walk towards the path that led to the cave entrance, but Axle growled in such an animal-like and primal way while stepping forward to block your path that it frightened you into remaining still. “You’re not leaving okay, nerd? You want to know why you’re here? Well it’s so I can fuck you silly and have someone to spend time with. I’m your boyfriend and you’re my property. So sit down, read your little books by the fire, and get settled because I am going to go get us some food and when I come back we are going to eat then we are going to go at it like rabbits.” You stared at him with eyes wide, now more paralyzed than ever with fear and utter bewilderment. He couldn’t be serious could he? You didn’t want that at all, this is the piece of shit that made your entire middle and high school years an absolute horror to get through. During your stunned silence he walked up to you and kissed you quickly on the lips before rushing out of the cave to search for some food. Was he stupid on top of absolutely bat shit crazy? Did he really think you were just going to stay here to be raped by him? Did he actually believe that you would be totally okay with being abducted by your former bully and you would be so enamored with him that not only would you let him put his dick anywhere you but you would also let him be your boyfriend?? Obviously that was not going to fucking happen in any way, shape, form, or fashion. You gave him a few minutes to get far away and then you gathered your bag of reading materials and headed out of the cave that Axle called home. It was too easy, luckily you remembered the general direction back to the park and began on your merry way, running as fast as your feet could carry you. Axle, though, was not really stupid. He may have been a bit of an impulsive hothead and a brute, but he was not without some intelligence. He figured you would almost certainly try to escape while he was out and about and he kept his hunt somewhat near the cave, and down wind from it. Once you left the shelter the wind quickly carried your scent right to his powerful nose. He could smell you so clearly and immediately made a beeline for your precise location. You had thought things were going well, you had put significant distance between you and the cave and were sure he would not be able to catch up to you. But you heard some rustling through the grass and a snap of twigs. You turned around and saw him coming right for you with unholy speed, Axle. Somehow he managed to close the distance between the two of you much faster than should have been possible before lunging and tackling you to the forest floor. This time you didn’t even bother struggling once he had a hold of you. Once more he slung you over his shoulder, smirking this time as you went limp, that was good. At the very least you were learning you could not fight him. Now you only had to learn you couldn’t run either. He wasn’t worried, you were a nerd after all, you would learn quickly. Before you knew it you were back in the cave, he placed you carefully on the rocky floor. You looked at him curiously wondering what he was going to do to you. He responded only with a shit eating grin. He began trying to take off your pants and clothes, and you struggled as much as you could. Which disappointed him, he thought you would have realized that he could always over power you, he had always been able to. Axle let out another beastly growl and that seemed to get the message across, this was happening. As he undid his belt you began to fear the worst, you were sitting naked below him as he was about to whip out his dick, what else could you expect to happen? You began to cry and plead for him not to rape you. He used his belt to tie up your arms before he pulled his pants down slightly. You stared at him as he stood before you with his prick aimed directly at you. Before you could figure out what he was doing he unleashed a hot stream piss all over your naked body. The smell was pungent and you gagged a bit as some of the fluid found its way into your mouth, he must have been holding it for a while because he completely drenched you. Axle had a devilish grin. “This should help remind you of your place. You are my little bitch got it? The scent will make it much easier to smell you and keep anyone else away. And I doubt you will try to scurry off without clothes.” Your abductor laughed maniacally as he emptied your books out on the table and took the bag. He placed all your clothing in it before slinging it around his back. “Be a good little weakling and wait here. Not that you have a choice,” he said as he departed. Axle made a mental note to scent mark you like that regularly, you covered in his scent made him almost lose control and breed you right then and there. But you both needed food, you were a fragile little thing he desperately wanted to take good care of and keep healthy and you would both need your energy for the all night fuck fest he had planned. Back on the floor of the cavern you were defeated, your face wet with tears and piss. You reeked of him and the fluid was becoming dry and sticky in places. This wasn’t fair, what had you done to deserve this. You never bothered anyone, you were a sweet person who just wanted to be lost in their books. You lay on that floor, stiff, stinking, and sticky for what felt like hours until Axle returned, but in reality he had only been gone around fifty or so minutes. He sauntered in with a hand that held a bundle of dead rabbits, and another hand full of foraged vegetables, fruits, and nuts. You wondered how he had caught anything. He did not seem to have any weapons or traps around. “Ah, there’s my good little bitch, I see you stayed in place for me.” Axle took his haul of food into another room of the cavern, presumably a larder or kitchen of some sort, before coming back and tending to you. He undid the belt binding your arms and was about to clean you up, but something about you stopped him. He paused and took a moment to just stare at you, so obedient, so drenched in his scent, so good for him. A perfect little mate. And a perfect mate needed to be bred and marked in the most permanent manner possible. Forgetting his plans to feed the both of you and then go at it later that night sniffed at you and let out a low growl. He needed to mate his bitch. Now. You were limp as a rag doll as he picked you up and put you in the pile of bedding material, despite the gross “scent marking” that he had applied to you not even being rinsed off yet. You felt Axle’s warm tongue carefully licking at your crotch, occasionally he broke away to kiss your soft thighs. His strong hands roamed every inch of your flesh that they could reach. He was like an animal as he began lapping at your entrance, stretching you out and getting you ready for mating. When his tongue slid into you it finally elicited a response and broke you out of your catatonic state. You tried to push him away to no avail, though he did take a moment to look up at all the commotion. As you looked at him you realized he almost seemed a bit larger than he was earlier, and had he always had that stubble, you could have swore that he had been clean shaven. Not that you had been in the best emotional state to make such careful observations. But then you saw a change made before your very eyes, and there was no denying it. His previously brown eyes had turned a fierce glowing yellow and as drool pooled and dripped at the corners of his mouth his teeth grew longer and sharper. Now you were really scared, more terrified than you had been since your kidnapping, what was this beast? Meanwhile Axle was running almost entirely on instinct, he had a vague sense of self but his impulses were simply too strong for him to ignore. The more you struggled the more he felt the unbearable need to prove himself to you. You were denying him as his mate so he had to show you how strong and capable he was, he had to be the mightiest he could be so you would be happy with him and have no doubts who the strongest man for you was. No doubt who owned you. He continued to transform into a full blown werewolf right before your very eyes. His clothing tore away as they were ripped apart by the muscles bulging out beneath, thick blonde fur covered every inch of his body, claws grew from his nails, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him and his ears grew longer. His erect cock became canine like in nature and his musky nuts sung below, full of potent seed to fill you with. You screamed in terror and tried to kick him away but the beast that was formerly Axle would not allow itself to be denied. Had to mate you. Had to prove himself as a good partner. Had to show you he was powerful, could keep you safe. You tried to kick him away but this only cemented in his mind the absolute need to subdue you and yew his. During his shift into his strongest form you had managed to scoot away from him, he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you back towards him, you tried to grab at anything you could to stop him, futilely throwing pillows and blankets at him in a last ditch hail Mary attempt to get away, but it was as hopeless as all your other attempts. When he had you under him he forced you into a mating press and shoved his hard cock to the hilt inside of your drool slickened hole. Once he was deep inside he let loose another wave of piss. Had to mark your insides as his property. Had to. Needed to make sure no one else thought about using his property. His mate. His. After Axle had once again marked you with his urine he began slowly thrusting in and out of you. But he quickly got tired of the pace, werewolves were not exactly known for restraint, especially when so deeply under the spell of their instincts. You yelped as he painfully shoved himself in and out of your quickly sore hole. Precum, drool, and piss leaked out of you and down his shaft and balls as he bred you, his huge nut sack slapping your ass with every thrust. Luckily you had been so well lubed by all of his fluids or else you would have been in extreme pain. You were ashamed to admit it but your body was betraying you and the railing you were receiving from this barely human monster was beginning to feel amazing. His knot was slowly swelling within you, creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But interrupting any climax you were making your way towards was Axle as he nuzzled your neck with his wet nose before aggressive licking and nipping at it. But he did not stop there, he had to mark you, make you his mate, claim you in every way, you’d look even more beautiful wearing his claim. So without hesitation or forethought for the consequences of turning you into a werewolf, he bit down at the nape of your neck. Hard. You cried out in a startled shock as he licked away the blood from your fresh wound. He had to comfort his mate. Had to. He didn’t stop licking until your tears lessened and you seemed relatively calm. The entire time he was biting you though he was still fucking you at a moderate pace, and he finally came to the beautiful sound of your overstimulated cries and whimpers. You were so good for him. Perfect fragile little bitch made to be filled up full of his seed and protected by him. You felt a growing pressure inside of you as his knot reached full size, binding the two of you together, and his cock throbbed deep within you as it shot rope after rope of warm semen. You had not gotten your climax yet though, and he couldn’t accept that, you had taken his so so well, you had been such a good mate, the perfect breeding bitch, you even took his mark and everything. Even if it wasn’t by choice. You deserved to feel pleasure. So Axle rocked his hard knot back and forth inside you, as much as he could move it with it at the size that it was, and slowly coaxed an orgasm from your hot mess of a body. He stopped when he felt it and heard you moan and whimper loudly, your voice full of pleasure. After achieving his goal of pumping his wimpy bookworm full he finally regained clarity of mind and his instincts lost their grip on his actions. He realized what he had done and was a bit embarrassed he had lost control like that. He had planned to very slowly ease you into the truth about being a werewolf. Still, he couldn’t argue with the results, you passed out under him from all the sensations he had brought to you, and him on top of you with his cock tight and snug within your hot depths. He was not in the least worried about you being a werewolf, it would only make you more dependent on him, you did not know the first thing about being one. And if you ever did escape he could always overpower you. He was stronger than you when you were both humans and he would remain stronger than you in any form. You would always be Axle’s bitch.  
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lookingformoondrop · 6 months
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could i request a boyfriend!andrew graves x reader headcannons or scenarios? i LOVE TCOAALđŸ«¶đŸ«¶
Boyfriend! Andrew Graves x Reader - Headcanons
TW: Andy has a foul mouth, reader gets groped, Andy is a little possessive, a tiny bit of violence (-is always the answer)
♄Notes: I'm kind of an idiot so if you notice something is spelled incorrectly, feel free to send me a dm so i can fix it (totally not at all referring to my first Yandere!Andy x Reader post where I spelled dark as darmfk ;-;). Also this is kind of short because so many people requested for Andy x Reader, so I didn't want to pull out all the stops. I hope this meets your expectations <3.♄
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The first thing you gotta to know about dating Andy, is that he's very touch starved.
I can just headcanon that due to his aloof personality and very broody behavior, he doesn't get many hugs...
So when you enter his life, best believe that Andy shows you this completely different side of him!
I'm talking.... Cuddling in the mornings till the point where you're almost late for work because he refuses to let you go.
I'm talking.... Andy being able to sense when you're about to go into the shower. His spidey-senses tingles, and the moment you're about to hop in, he's right there already getting his hair wet.
I'm talking.... Trapping you with his kisses when you're making food, definitely not noticing that he's causing you to burn dinner.
And no amount of protest can deter this man either.
Speaking of making food... Andrew is the master-chef of the house!
Now he's no Gorden Ramsey (as he likes to tell you whenever he makes you a sandwich), but everyone knows that one bite of his food is enough to make a sailor come back to the land.
So it's very nifty when you're sick and at home, in need to have someone take care of you.
The first time you ever got sick was when you and Andy were still living separately.
It was a Friday night, and it was supposed to be your 1-year anniversary with Andy. Unfortunately, due to some unhygienic biotch at the office, you caught a cold and had to cancel.
At first Andy didn't respond, instead leaving you on read. You felt bad, figuring that he was mad at you for canceling.
But lo' and behold, exactly 10 minutes later, that was a frantic sound of keys jiggling into the your front door.
You had gotten up from your couch-potato position to see the person who wanted to rush into your home so badly, when it occurred to you;
Andrew is the only one with another set of keys...
And with that realization, Andy burst through the door with a pharmacy store bag in one hand, and a grocery store bag in another.
In an instant, Andy made you take a disgusting amount of cold medicine, and blessed your cold home with the warmth and smell of spices and herbs (likely all from the soup).
When the food was ready, he sat you up with a pillow and hand-fed you soup for the rest of the night. You felt so bad for ruining your anniversary, but everytime you tried to apologize for it, Andrew would stuff your mouth with more soup and would say;
"I don't care about that romance and anniversary shit. We don't need to go to a fancy restaurant or an expensive place just to feel like we're honoring an important date. That date is important because it is our date. We don't need to one-up that memorable time just to remind everyone of how special it is... Y/N, you're crying into the soup."
Needless to say, you cried.
But Andrew doesn't just take care of you...You best believe he also protects.
Well, sorta.
You could be in a grocery store, at a Boba shop, in the mall, getting new shoes, it wouldn't matter, Andrew would always have his hand on your waist.
Be it because he saw someone look at you, doesn't matter who or how old they are, he'll always wrap his arms around you and whisper ever so softly, "You're mine..."
It has definitely given you some weird looks over the years, but you know he means well.
And if anyone ever actually looks at you funny? It's over for them.
Andrew will make it VERY clear that you're not to be messed with.
For example, a couple of months into your relationship, you were riding the train. Enjoying a simple conversation about suspicious neighbors and whatnot, when all of the sudden some guy came up behind you and tried groping you discreetly.
Andy noticed very quickly that all the blood drained from your face. He looked behind you and noticed the old geezer trying to get a hand full of someone way younger than them, and Andrew could feel every restraint in his body snap.
In an act of "self-defense" as told to the cops later on, Andrew punched the living daylights of the guy and sent him flying into a pole.
You fussed over Andy's fist for awhile, completely forgetting about how you felt. But the only thing Andy could think about was how he should've hit that guy harder.
When you guys were finally walking home, hand in hand, you leaned on Andrew.
"I'm sorry about today Andy... I didn't mean for you to get all banged up."
Andrew snorted, "My knuckle is a little scratched up, so what? That perverted asshole had it coming for him."
You kissed Andy's cheek, which granted you a dark blush from Andy, and a grin from you.
"Thank you Aaandy~" You brushed his hand with your thumb,
Being in a relationship with Andy is a little messy, and yes sometimes a little crazy. But no matter what happens, Andy will always stick by your side.
"You're welcome, sweetheart." Andy squeezed your hand in return.
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Thank you for the ask<3
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leidensygdom · 1 month
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The ways in which being asexual feels isolating
I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.
So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.
But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.
And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.
Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"
Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.
And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!
I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.
Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.
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lqvesoph · 3 months
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Right person, wrong time || LN4
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lando norris x childhood sweetheart/ex gf!reader
summary: lando and reader haven’t seen each other since their break up 6 years ago, now at a grand prix where her current boyfriend is invited, they meet again
kind of like the "in a room full of people i know who i would run to but i also know who i would stare at the whole time"
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You really did hope you wouldn’t run into him today

But standing opposite of the Mclaren hospitality and inside your boyfriend’s arm, you knew it was a lie. Because who are you kidding? The whole time you have been inside the paddock you looked around you, almost waiting to catch a glimpse of the curly headed McLaren driver.
But now you locked eyes with him from opposite of his teams home and all the emotions dared to come up.
Lando shook his head as if to escape the trance the eye contact with you had put him in and turned around, walking hastily back into the hospitality.
"Right, baby?", you heard your boyfriend Theo smile and felt his hand squeeze your hip. You tore your eyes away from the orange building and put a fake smile on your face. "You never were really into motor racing growing up? That was until you met me", Theo repeated, helping you with the conversation.
"Oh, yes totally! My dad is a huge fan but I rarely watched", you lied. "Of Mercedes, I hope", Toto Wolff joked, making you chuckle. "In fact, he is."
*~*~*~*~*~*
The sight of Lando didn’t leave your thoughts for the rest of the day.
He looked so much different. So much taller, broader and older.
Theo was off with a few team members showing him this years car while you stood back a little.
"Y/n, is that you?", an all too familiar voice asked behind you, making you turn around. "I thought it was you", George Russell smiled, opening his arms to give you a hug. "It’s been ages! I haven’t seen you since you and Lando-", George started talking but let his words trail at the end.
"Anyways, how are you? What have you been up to?", he quickly put a smile back on his face. "I‘m good, thank you! I just finished university", you told him. "Interior Design still?", George smirked, remembering what you had told him over six years ago. You chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Interior Design."
George had always been one of you best mates when you and Lando were together, you just clicked. But when Lando and you called it quits, you disappeared from the paddock, cutting off everyone and everything that reminded you of Lando.
You even stopped watching Formula 1. You tried to but when they showed a nervous small Lando before his first race in Australia, you started bawling your eyes out at the feeling of missing him.
You thought now, six years later, the memories and scars would have faded at least a little while, which is why you agreed to join your boyfriend when he was invited by Mercedes. But now being here, back in the paddock, the wounds still felt as fresh as on the first day.
"Darling, you have to see this!", Theo called, a huge smile on his face. George and you turned around. A frown creeping its way on George‘s face as he connected the dots, figuring out that the guy that had called you must be your boyfriend.
"Coming!", you called, giving George a smile and hurrying over to your boyfriend.
Seeing George reminded you of Lando and of memories you tried so hard to push away.
*~*~*~*~*~*
After Theo had excitedly explained to you the different parts of a Formula 1 car to you, you told him you need to get some fresh air and would be back in a few minutes.
Theo didn’t know about your past in this world, including Lando. You knew every little part of that damn car, you even sat in one when Lando tested the McLaren cars the year before he debuted in Formula 1.
You quickly walked down the paddock, breathing heavily at the thought of all those memories until someone called your name, making you stop in your tracks.
You closed your eyes until you felt a hand on your shoulder, sending sparks through your whole body.
"I can’t believe it’s really you", Lando whispered as you turned around.
Being this close, you could even see the dark stubbles on his chin, smiling at the memory of 17 year old Lando complaining about not being able to grow a beard.
"Hi", you breathed, not quite knowing how to act. Lando chuckled. "Hi."
"Uh- what
 what brings you into the paddock?", he then asked, nervously fiddling with his fingers, a habit that he hasn’t broken in all those years.
"I‘m here with my boyfriend", you said, watching as hurt flashed before Lando‘s eyes and a frown sneaked on his face.
"Oh", he simply said, trying to play down the hurt he felt. "That‘s- uh great."
"You wanna come to the hospitality?", Lando changed the topic. And against your better judgment and your head screaming at you not to say yes, you nodded, making a relieved smile make its way on Lando’s face.
You tried to ignore the glance the two of you got when you walked passed the McLaren team members and up to Lando‘s driver room.
You hesitantly looked around the small room as Lando closed the door.
"So, what have you been up to?", he broke the silence, making you move your attention to the curly headed boy. "I- uh just finished university and we‘re moving to Spain this fall", you told him, still avoiding his eyes.
"Spain, huh? Where in Spain?", Lando continued, ignoring the 'we'. "Madrid." Your reply made Lando frown. "Why not Barcelona? You love Barcelona!"
"Well, Theo liked Madrid quite a lot so
", you said, making Lando huff. But you ignored it.
"How have you been?", you asked. "Good, uh, yeah. The car‘s pretty good and the team is just amazing", he smiled, but you could tell it was forced. "That‘s great!", you said, wondering why you even agreed to come to talk to him. In private. In a closed room. In his driver room.
A rather awkward silence settled over you until Lando broke it once again. "What happened to us?", he carefully whispered which made you close your eyes. You assumed this conversation would eventually lead to this point.
"We grew up, Lando", you replied quietly. "But why didn’t we grew up together?", he asked, looking directly at you. "We didn’t want the same thing anymore or more like we couldn’t have the same thing anymore", you said, still not looking at Lando.
You never had a proper conversation about what led to your break up. Maybe it was because you were too young and the pain of it overshadowed all the logical thoughts on how to handle it.
"I, for my part, was so happy for you. I knew this was all you dreamed of. But somewhere between summer and winter of 2018 we started to drift apart. You were busy and away quite a lot, and I‘m not entirely blaming you for that, I also didn’t really put in an effort and for that I’m sorry", you spoke softly, thinking back on your teen years.
"I‘m so sorry, darling. I should’ve made more of an effort, to visit home more often or to at least call", Lando apologized, fiddling with his fingers. "Me too, Lando, me too", you mumbled, feeling the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.
"You were the person who taught me everything. Taught me how to ride a bike, how to have fun and most importantly how to love. But Lando we were kids, merely 18 years old. We both weren’t mature enough to actually hold that relationship. Hell, we weren’t even mature enough to talk about our break up", you spoke, your eyes on the verges of tears.
"But what about now?", Lando asked hopeful and reached for one of your hands, wrapping it in his.
You let out a painful laugh. "I‘m in a relationship and I love Theo, so much", you muttered. "Then why are you still in here with me?", Lando posed the question that you had asked yourself already, not daring to give yourself and answer.
"Because
 a part of me will always love you. But sometimes that just isn’t enough", you whispered, pulling your hand away from Lando‘s and standing up.
Walking back to your boyfriend, all you could think about was the conversation you just had and if you had made the right decision.
You forced a half smile when Theo spotted you and opened his arms. "Where have you been, the race is almost starting", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"You know just wandering around, discovering the paddock", you lied, settling in your boyfriends’ arms and focusing your attention on the TV.
But without meaning to, your eyes immediately searched for Lando during the national anthem, your heart beating slightly faster when they showed the line up and even more when he overtook Max Verstappen to take the race lead after the first corner.
Still, you stood in Theo‘s arms till the end of the race, watching Lando up on the podium from afar.
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@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @paolexsstuff @kiskso
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