#THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT SHOULD DRAW A FUCKING CROWD
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I remember you once wrote a post about snape not being written how JK rowling thought she did, can you elaborate on that please perhaps? I also heard he is so much more of a dick in the books (never read the books, only watched the movies some time ago xd)
Anon. Sit down. I have shit to SAY. Okay, so, Snape is 100% worse in the fucking books. He insults hermione so viciously that she permanently alters her appearance. He threatens to poison Neville's toad and actually punishes Gryffindor house when Hermione prevents that from happening. He constantly goes out of his way to insult, belittle, and embarrass Harry. There is no reason why an eleven year old boy should feel as though a teacher hates him. There's no reason why he should be right. Let's get one thing straight: Snape does not like Harry. He only protects Harry because of his love for Lily. He straight up admits it. Dumbledore asks him "You've grown to care for the boy?" and Snape says "for HIM???" Like. If Harry was not the son of lily, would Snape care about him at all? If Harry was the exact same boy (same personality, same everything), except that his mother was not lily, would Snape give a shit about him? No, right? So how can anyone say that Snape likes *Harry*? He doesn't! People will say that Snape had to be cruel to Harry to keep up his facade, but I call bullshit. Snape did not have to go as far as he did. When Snape catches Harry alone with the mauraders map, he insults Harry even though there is no one else alone. Tell me who he is putting on a show for? Harry already thinks Snape hates him, so why did Snape take that opportunity to viciously dig into him? Also, why does nobody talk about the fact that Snape chose to become a death eater in the first place? "He had to put on an act" Why join the play in the first place?? In my opinion, JKR gives him too many irredeemable characteristics and/or choices. Also wouldn't it have been a more sensible decision for him to be a good teacher to everyone? For someone who was trying to keep his secret identity under wraps, he does a poor job. Harry and his friends suspect him CONSTANTLY. Harry goes to Dumbledore multiple times about Snape still being in allegiance with the dark lord. If Snape's reasoning for being cruel to Harry and the non-Slytherins was so he would not draw suspicion to himself, he does an absolute shit job at it lmao.
Snape isn't an awful person as a facade. He's awful because that's who he genuinely is. Don't believe me? Well, we get a look at him outside of school, before he has any death eaters to impress. My beef with JKR is that we're supposed to forgive Snape after one chapter. The chapter "The Prince's Tale" is supposed to redeem Snape.
One. Singular. Chapter. In the final book of a 7 book series is supposed to undo every single thing we've seen so far. I'm not saying that's impossible, but I am saying it's not the chapter JKR seems to think it is. We're supposed to believe that Snape is so redeemed after this chapter that Harry deadass names his son after him. It absolutely KILLS me that in the chapter JKR uses to prove that Snape is a good person, he does more bad shit! It's not filled with cute Snape moments; it's filled with moments where he's a creepy ass young adult. He enters the potters' house after they die and you know what he does? He rips a photo containing Harry, James, and lily, and keeps the portion containing lily. That's fucking creepy! That photo could have been given to Harry, but no! Snape just had to keep the portion containing Lily.
When he's a teenager, he tells lily he won't "let" her do something (I forget exactly what it was). Lily accuses him of wanting to be a death eater and he not only doesn't deny it, but lily CALLS him out for not denying it. That is something that canonically happens. Snape DOES become a death eater! He is friends with people who do dark magic. He calles Lily a slur in front of a crowd of people. He's shown to have blood purist beliefs as a child; Lily asks him if her being muggleborn makes any difference and he hesitates before answering. It's clear he DOES think being a muggleborn makes someone less. I can forgive Snape for being a weirdo as a kid. Everything is more acceptable when you're a small child, but he never changes. In the chapter JKR uses to justify everything Snape has done so far, she shows him STILL being a bad person even outside of school!! She seems to think she wrote some tortured hero who was kind deep down, but she wrote a bully who was so obsessive over one woman that he didn't care about whether her husband and child died so long as she remained alive. Snape loved Harry? Snape was okay with him dying as a baby lmao. Once again, Snape only cared about Lily. JKR wrote Snape as obsessive when she clearly meant to write him as deeply in love. That's what I mean when I say she didn't write him how she seems to think.
Also, as an aside, I truly feel like Draco and Snape are kind of the same, but jkr HATES Draco, and that makes no sense to me lmao. Like, the series would have been better tied together if Draco was redeemed as well. I'm not saying Draco is a good person, but to call Snape a good person despite him being a cruel grown man, and in the same breath condemn Draco who is literally just a child who grew up in a racist family? What sense does that make.
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Honestly why do I hear people still talking about the aunt jemima rebranding and how “ridiculous” it is? Firstly it was years ago and second I KNOW you were not that attached to the mammy character. Chill the fuck out.
#I hate Florida#also my own family complains about it and we’re black people!!!!!!#and honestly even if you don’t like their reason you have to agree that it’s still an understandable one#like yeah getting rid of a brand character because she has roots in racist ideas is like. completely rational#in what world is that ridiculous#also. y’all would not be talking about it still if it were for a completely different reason#like if they said they just wanted a fresh start or something#I also hear the same shit about land o lakes removing their Native American character#I never heard anyone talking about OTHER rebrandings for more than 5 minutes#like if they ended up getting rid of the Quaker Oats guy people would be like ‘awww they got rid of him :(‘ and then continue shopping#but NOOOO I went t9 the store with my dad recently and he was loudly complaining about how they get rid of aunt jemima#and MULTIPLE PEOPLE came and were like ‘yeah it’s ridiculous right??? they’re so stupid for that’#THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT SHOULD DRAW A FUCKING CROWD#ITS SYRUP FOR GODSAKES#I just had to rant I’m so fucking tired of hearing about this shit#there’s no fucking way you care that much about some black lady on the pancake syrup. no fucking way
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attention (TWICE Nayeon)
word count: 6.1K
(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)
-- -- --
You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming.
But not tonight.
You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend.
Maybe the proper term is chaperone.
All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.
But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else.
That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber.
She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.
“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing.
You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated.
“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”
Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here.
Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie.
“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you.
You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention.
It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”
You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”
“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”
“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street.
-- --
You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen.
The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control.
How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team.
She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job.
Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.
Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned.
That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted.
Until one night.
You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it.
There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice.
You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath.
You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months.
She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds.
You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals.
“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone.
“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”
Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?”
You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you.
You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah.
You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.
The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment.
You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans.
Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this.
“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.”
Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her.
“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button.
You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure.
“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock.
That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly.
“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”
Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you.
You didn’t remember much else from that night.
That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.
You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary.
Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened.
There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list.
She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.
However, Nayeon was not.
She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had.
Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled.
You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line.
It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her.
No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you.
Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you.
Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.
--
You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).
It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock.
To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her.
It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other.
“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened.
“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”
You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off.
You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.
What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off.
She didn’t.
It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.
Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion.
“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”
Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”
A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her.
Maybe you did, but she owned you too.
-- --
You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious.
You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her.
You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you.
“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.”
Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back.
Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”
“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you.
The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer.
“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?”
“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?”
It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place.
You.
This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours.
“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.
“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.”
“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.”
Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you.
“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway.
You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair.
“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.”
“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!”
“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position.
“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head.
“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?”
“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.”
“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder.
“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.”
You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back.
“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap.
Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”
You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?”
Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge.
Bingo.
Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous.
The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had.
You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric.
After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”
“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice.
“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself.
Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.
You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs.
“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?”
Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.”
You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting.
“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars.
“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.”
You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air.
“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”
“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”
“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep.
“Yours.”
It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you.
Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months.
“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t.
“I love you.”
You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it.
“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers.
“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip.
“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back.
You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten.
“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”
Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her.
Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath.
You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?”
“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit.
“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught.
“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth.
“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets.
“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers.
“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.”
You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.
“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?”
“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.
You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato.
Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms.
“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones.
“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply.
You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.
You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze.
“I love you.”
It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known.
The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”
Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”
You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things.
“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”
You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do.
“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago.
“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you.
You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise.
“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers.
-- -- --
(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)
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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)
When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne.
No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear.
His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths.
Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.
Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who—
Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave.
But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help.
They most certainly sound like they do.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much.
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops.
Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath.
“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well. “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.”
There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.
What the fuck is happening?
He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision.
And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?
Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!”
He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one.
Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared.
It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.
But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.
His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!
“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."
He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting.
Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?”
But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now.
He doesn’t.
Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should—
“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react.
A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.”
Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort.
Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington.
Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now.
Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.
Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time.
He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.
“Munson?”
Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie!
“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away.
Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way.
“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign.
Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he—
The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts.
“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.
“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.”
A beat. “Everywhere.”
Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.”
He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?”
“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“
He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?
Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech.
“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.
What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?
What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.
Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what.
“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”
Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now.
“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”
Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.
“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.
And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.”
Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die.
And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake.
“Hagan did that to you?”
Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”
Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?”
Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.”
Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.”
And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?”
“What?”
There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?”
Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more.
“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.”
Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.
“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.”
“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over.
And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.
He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this.
He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.
But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly.
"Where‘re we going?"
And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.
"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.
"Safe?"
"Safe."
"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."
If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.
(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#this is somewhere between s3 and s4 obviously#but also i just re-read the op post and realised that this is nothing like what they wished for so uh. sorry? never trust me with prompts y#who did this to you#hurt steve#steve harrington whump#pre-steddie#sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah#dio words
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eddie munson dating a mean fem!cheerleader who’s only nice to him <3
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“sorry I didn’t hear you bitch, what?!”
the loud bang and voice causes the conversations amongst the cafeteria starts to quiet down. all heads turning to the source where the voice coming from. including eddie, who has his eyes bug out like a kid getting caught sneaking his hand into the cookie jar. immediately knowing who that voice belongs to.
it’s you.
you have your hand on a somegirl’s head, pressing it against an empty table. it draws so many peoples attention with their terrified expressions written on their faces. some of them are even whispering to each other wether or not to help the poor girl out and take you away, but they know better than to upset you.
“dude… you should go there” dustin leans over to eddie with a soft whisper, as if he’s afraid that you’ll hear him. “she’s gonna kill her.”
“eh” he munches on his fries, a proud smirk plasters across his face, eyes never leaving you. “let her. she’s fucking hot when she gets feisty.”
dustin gapes at him, “what kind of boyfriend would let their girlfriend kill another girl?!”
“me” he simply answers, feeling himself growing more turned on when he watches you furrow your brows in anger and teeth gritting, while putting your mouth close to the girl’s ear, threatening her more.
oh he’s definitely fucking you from behind later,
“I-im sorry” the blonde girl chokes out, her eyes are shut in fear and body won’t stop shaking due to your rough grip around her shitty ponytail. “i promise … p-please-“
“yeah, you promise right? because if i saw you do what you did again, i will fucking come for you, you stupid fuck” you harshly say against her ear, throwing her shaking body to the floor, earning loud gasps from around. “racist bitch.”
with that, you fix your skirt and sleek your messy hair back and turn around. seeing a bunch of bewildered looks on students making you scoff and roll your eyes. “the fuck are you guys looking at? go do something!”
in seconds, the crowd begins to break. not giving you nor the girl laying on the floor any more attention. though the tension is still there.
you begin to scan through the crowd, trying to find your boyfriend. and the moment you lock eyes with him, your frown is replaced with a bright smile, squealing as you hurriedly walk over to his table in your gogo boots. he instantly stands from his seat, mirroring your expression with his arms wide open.
"puddin!" you call, quickly jumping onto him.
"hi baby" he chuckles, keeping a tight grip around your waist. "quite a show you put on there" he nods to the crying girl.
"oh, that?" you innocently point out, "well she did something bad so I had to talk to her."
he sits back down in his chair, patting his lap for you. "talked? think you did more than that, sweetheart."
"oh well." you shrug, crossing your legs as you keep your arms around his shoulder, playing with his chocolate curls. "she deserved it."
"what did she do?" gareth pipes in, glancing down at your exposed thighs. gulping as he begins to check you out.
unfortunately, eddie notices, frowning in disappointment. "hey! eyes off my girl you little shit" he warns, pointing a finger at him. glaring at the curly-headed fellow.
gareth's eyes widen, face turning red in embarrassment as he looks away making you giggle.
"oh don't worry about him gar-bear. he's just a little protective." you cup eddie's cheeks, turning him to look at you. "you're still my man, baby." you plant a kiss on his lips, causing the table to groan in disgust.
"oh shut up. if you had a hot piece of ass for a girlfriend like y/n. you'd let her do whatever she wants to you." eddie slaps your ass a bit, making you jump.
"yeah yeah, you have a girlfriend now. we get it." mike waves him off, eyes rolling. "you didn't answer the question, y/n."
"what? oh yeah! she was making fun of your club. and said some very very offensive remarks about eddie and lucas." you shrug, twirling one of eddie's locks. "I had to do something, obviously. can't let that bitch get away with what she said. i had to get physical."
"it was?" eddie's heart begins to warm. never in his life had someone defended him like that. "oh sweetcheeks, you didn't have to."
"uhm, yes i did have to." you reply in an obvious tone, "you mean a lot to me. and I know these guys and the club mean so much to you, baby. so that makes them important to me as well."
“i fucking love you, you know that?” he sighs dreamily, tucking away the loose curl from your face. “if i could take you right here-“
the hellfire kids immediately groan, covering their ears as they complain to their ‘master’ about his sexual implication. hearing that only makes you laugh even more and for eddie to roll his eyes back.
“woah woah dude, not at lunch please. it’s gross.”dustin begs, shaking his head in disgust as he points down at the meal.
“well” you start, biting your lip while standing up. “i saw chem class is free, you wanna go there with me so we can-” you’re immediately cut off by eddie jumping off from his seat right away nearly tipping the chair down. eyes wide in excitement as he nods vigorously
“yes. fuck yes. i need you right now, you don’t need to ask” he desperately begins, hands wrapped around your waist as the go down to squeeze your ass. not caring that people are probably watching. “think i can get you off in fifteen, baby?”
“i like to see you try” you purr, batting your lashes at him. “because i’m planning to get you off in ten.”
he lets out his shaky sigh“jesus fuck- i gotta go guys. move the meeting later after school.” he turns to say to his friends while grabbing your arms tight and rushes away with you who’s giggling like crazy.
“what- no! eddie!” dustin calls out his name, watching the two lovebirds disappear from the cafeteria. he sighs in frustrations, hands on his hips as he hears the piles of complaints coming from the guys.
“fucking horn dogs”
#eddie munson#eddie munson blurbs#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie things#eddie munson x mean!cheerleader
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Sharing Part 1 - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18 Minor DNI
Rafe x Rafe X Reader
Ask: Rafe x Rafe x Reader
So, for this, Rafe has a twin whose name is Cam. Rafe is (Curtain Bang Rafe), and Cam is (Buzz Cut Rafe).
Warning: SMUT, language, drinking, name calling, I'm not sure how to label the part at the bar… just twin shit idk read at your own risk 😂🫶
Choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, public sex, rough sex, shower sex
Masterlist
Tag List
Sorry if you asked to be tagged 🫶💕 I’m working off a tag list. Please add your name here for part 2
Tags: @imyourdaninow @rafesthroatbaby @h34rtsformilli @romaescapes @Jayla @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180
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Y/N's POV:
"Touchdown, Bulldogs!"
The stadium erupts with applause as Rafe gets swallowed up in a team hug. The school fight song blares through the open arena as a massive homecoming crowd clamors to storm the field in celebration. You hang back slightly with the other players' girlfriends, watching as Rafe shuffles over to an equally massive #2; Cameron scrolled across his back as well. The two of you have only been dating for a few weeks, but you could tell, like quintessential twins, those two were close.
Cam was always Rafe's second call after you, no matter what, good or bad, and it almost seemed like Cam was two steps ahead. He knew how to calm him down; he always seemed to know what to say. But, then there was the rivalry; Cam knew how to push Rafe's buttons. What to say to trigger a classic Cameron bitch fit.
Rafe wanted nothing more than to win this game. You could see his chest puffed out a little more than usual, his shit-eating grin a little more sly. Rafe tugs off his helmet, skimming his fingers through his sweaty fringe as his brother removes his helmet as well.
You squint your eyes, stomach fluttering as you take in the difference from all the Instagram and Snapchat images you've stalked prior: a fresh buzz cut. Jesus Christ. Rafe pulls him in for a big hug, slapping his shoulder pads.
Your nerves creep in fast, a combination of anxieties about meeting Cam for the first time. I want to impress him. I want him to like me. I want him to think I'm good for Rafe. That's his twin brother, after all. Sure, I met Ward and Rose, Wheezie and Sarah, and that went great, but this is the big leagues. This is his twin; this is make-or-break.
But, on a separate note, should I be this nervous? I mean, in this way? Seeing Cam gave me butterflies... Maybe it's 'cause he looks so much like Rafe? I can't deny that when he took off his helmet, I felt something. Fuck, I'm in trouble.
"There she is," Rafe groans as he pulls you off your feet and into his strong arms. You cup his sweat-glistened cheeks, kissing him deeply.
"Hi, Rafey," you mumble against his sweet lips.
"How'd I do?" He smiles against your pout, nose nuzzling yours playfully.
"So damn good," you praise as you scratch your nail into his hair, pulling him closer.
"You look so pretty, baby - love seeing you in my jersey." Rafe sets you down on your feet, kissing you again before pulling you to his side.
"This her?" Cam pipes in, stealing your attention away.
"Sure is. Cam, y/n; y/n, Cam," Rafe smiles down at you proudly. You turn your attention to Cam, feeling that same flutter from before, a blush creeps in your cheeks as you see the same look in his eyes that Rafe gave you the first night you met.
"Well, shit," he rasps as he steps a little closer. Cam takes you off Rafe's hands, drawing you into his embrace, hugging you before pulling back ever-so-slightly. "Fuck, you're stunning," he praises.
Cam reaches up, fixing the little "R" pendant on your chest, brushing your clothed cleavage as he sets it in place. Your heart races at the contact between you, banging so loudly you swear Cam can hear it. "Thank you," you breathe. A grin slides across Cam's lips; Cam's smile is stunning, just like your boyfriend's. But there's a fire behind it that once again gives you the most delicious deja vu. Cam likes what he sees.
"So..." Rafe teases, head cocked slightly, arms raised, holding open your spot at his side.
"Oh shit. Sorry, Rafey," Cam snickers as he passes you back to his brother. Rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders, tugging you in, pressing a rough kiss on your hair. Cam's eyes return to his brother, a smirk spreading on his rosy lips. You look up at Rafe, catching the mirror image.
"Well, this one's gonna help me with my post-game routine; why don't you come over in like an hour-" Rafe continues to talk; Cam cocks his eyebrow, seemingly stuck on the first part of the plan for the evening. He smiles sinfully, eyes falling down your body, making you blush as you see his wheels turn. These two talk about everything; your little post-match shower session was most likely a topic of discussion already.
"We drinkin' tonight?" Cam drawls.
"Literally just said that, dumbass. Maybe if you stop starin' at my girl's tits, you could focus. Yeah?" Rafe taunts, shoving his brother away.
"Not gonna apologize," he bullies as he wets his plump bottom lip.
If Cam was anyone else, he'd gone - erased from this earth for his wandering eye. Rafe, no stranger to roughing up a guy or two on account of you - his brother seemingly the exception. "You're a fuckin' dog, buddy." Cam shrugs and smiles, owning the title as Rafe hooks his finger under your chin. "I don't blame him. My girl's perfect," he whispers before meeting your lips.
+++++++++
"This is my favorite part of Game Day, baby," Rafe hums as he tears his shirt off his athletic body. You pinch the bottom of your top, drawing it over your naval. "Lemme," he smiles, stripping you of his old jersey before tossing it to the side, lifting you off your feet. Rafe pulls away only briefly to turn on the water, walking with you to the countertop. It's dim, the perfect amount of light thrown from his open bedroom door. Admittedly, it's your favorite part of Game Day as well: getting this time with Rafe, the two of you unwinding before a night of drinking, the pair of you coming down from his post-game high together.
Rafe sets you down on the cool top, sending chills up your warm body as his hands quickly get to work. One weaves into the nape of your hair while the other grips the plush of your hip. "You know I love you," he whispers as his rough fingers trace over the top of your thigh, disappearing between your legs.
"Of course, Rafe."
"M'not sayin' this to start a fight; m'not callin' you out for anything. Alright?"
"Okay," you giggle nervously. "Is everything okay?"
"More than okay," he grins. You let out a little gasp as he runs two fingers through your wetness, lifting them to his lips tasting you. "You have a crush on my brother. Don't you, sweetheart?" He whispers. Your eyes widen in surprise, lashes fluttering as he calls you out.
"I - Umm... Rafe-"
"I said, 'It's more than okay, honey," he mumbles as his fingers press through your entrance. "You don't believe me?" Your brows knit in confusion as you stare into his beautiful blues. How could Rafe Cameron be okay with this? I mean, he almost got arrested last weekend for a fight after someone bought me a shot. How is he okay with me having a crush on his brother? 'And, it's more than okay?' No way.
"No..." You whisper feebly as your gaze falls to his lips.
A smirk stretches wide, Rafe's breathing increasing with yours. "No, what, princess?"
"I don't believe you," you reply before returning your eyes to his. Rafe pouts his lip teasingly, pumping and scissoring his long fingers.
"Alright..." He shrugs, continuing to tease you. You grip Rafe's thick dick in your hand, rubbing his precum into his swollen tip as he quickens the speed of his hand, thrusting his fingers at an insane pace. "He's got a crush on you." Your pussy tightens around his digits at the sound of his words, making Rafe smile wickedly. "Baby girl..." He mocks as he moves in even closer, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist. Rafe tucks himself into the crook of your neck as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.
"M'gonna cum," you whine.
"You sure, y/n," he whispers against your warm skin. "I don't believe you." Rafe repeats your words as he slows his pace, edging you; prompting you to grind against his palm, craving a release.
"Rafe..."
"Hmm?" He chuckles through a throaty laugh. "S'alright, baby. We share." Rafe baffles you with his admittance as he spears his thick cock into your drenched pussy.
"Rafe!" You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow, buried balls deep, letting you adjust to his size. You cling onto his shoulders, nails digging into his tan skin as he stretches you out. Steam swirls all around the two of you, the room burning with vapor and sex as Rafe walks toward the walk-in show, drawing back the glass door. "This could be a really good night for you," he mutters as the stream of water pours from the spout, washing over your naked bodies.
Rafe's eyes fall down your bare frame, watching as the little rivers of warm water cascade through your dips and curves, glistening over your already dewy skin. His blonde fringe hangs wet on his forehead, framing his beautiful face. You look down as well, eyeing the place where your bodies connect; Rafe's thick cock sheathed deep. "You share girls?' You whisper. Rafe moans as he presses you back into the icy shower wall, forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.
"'Course we do." He starts to pound you into the wall, making you cry out in pleasure.
"And, you want to share me?" You ask, weakly between rough thrusts.
"That not clear?" He rasps, drawing out of your cunt, whirling you around before bending you over, pounding back into your aching core.
"Fuck!" You sob, feeling him deep in your guts. You take hold of his wrists, his hands steadying your hips, clawing into the fat of your ass. Rafe spreads your cheeks, coaxing his cock in slower as he feels you tighten around him again.
"Bounce for me. Yeah?" He groans, slapping your ass before letting you take control. You throw your bum on his cock; cheeks clapping against Rafe's wet skin. Your curves recoil with each slap of his tight body against yours, knees buckling, causing Rafe to chuckle darkly as he watches you go weak on his dick. "Please," you whimper, knowing he won't let you cum until he hears you say it.
"Pretty sure you know what I want to hear, princess," he grunts. "Just tell me you want him. Tell me you want us to share you. Tell me you want his cock and mine, y/n. Let me hear it."
"Rafe."
He winds up, slapping your thigh harshly, making you scream, voice bouncing off of the shower walls. "I want him. I - I want you to share me. Fuck. I want your cock and his." You squeal Rafe's name as you gush around his cock; your entire body shaking as he keeps you standing through your climax.
"I want you to beg," he huffs, tugging your hair, pulling you close, back pressed against his heaving chest, Rafe not letting you come down from your orgasm before he starts working on your next. One arm wraps around your throat in a chokehold, squeezing tightly while the other arm binds around your waist.
"Please."
"No. Not enough," he sneers, constricting your airway with his biceps. Rafe starts rocking in and out. You can feel every ridge and curve of his cock as he gives it to you, slow and deep, making your eyes roll back. You feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of air, but Rafe doesn't let up his hold. "Beg."
Holy shit.
"Please, Rafe. I fucking need it," you pant wearily. "I want to please you both... I wanna feel you-" Your voice trails off as you feel your orgasm building again, vision fuzzy, mind muddled like you could fall to the floor.
"Baby? You got awfully quiet. You a'ight?" He growls; a low tone rumbled against your skin.
"I want you both to ruin me!" You choke out the words. “I'll do anything for your dick. Please.”
"Mmm... Atta girl." Rafe pulls out, taking his time with you as he looks down at you lovingly. He guides your chin, lifting your lips to his. Rafe kisses you soft and slow as you try to catch your breath. You look down at his throbbing dick, the creamy ring of your arousal rinsing off his hardened flesh, ready for more.
"You think your brother wants me, Rafey?" You whisper, biting into your bottom lip as you bat your lashes, playing into his game.
"'Course he does. That bastard always wants what's mine. Lucky for him, we're brothers... N'I play nice." Rafe loops his bicep under your thigh, plunging his cock back in. He rolls his hips deliciously slow, finding that perfect angle that makes tears leak from your eyes. "Gonna fuck that tight little ass of yours, baby. Fill you up," he groans. "We haven't done that yet? You ready, f'me? Think you can handle us both?"
You can't even form words; all thoughts in your mind run wild at the idea of having them. "You're squeezing me so tight, baby... Think you could cum for me again?" He whispers against your ear, teeth, tugging at your lobe as he draws out, slamming his cock back into your pussy. You let out a cry of pleasure, your cracked sob reverberating off the walls. "Gonna have you creamin' on our cocks all night. Just a little whore for Cameron cock, aren'tcha?" Rafe throws his hips again and again as the knot in your stomach starts to twist tighter. You pinch your eyes shut, nodding frantically as you feel your orgasm within reach, completely cock-drunk. "Say. It."
"M'just - Fuck, daddy-"
"M'just what?" He mocks your fucked-out tone.
"A little whore for your cocks. M'just a hole for you, Rafe."
"Ugh. Yes! Fuck. That's my girl. That's it, baby. Cum for me. Yeah? Cum on my cock."
"Fuck…"
"Cum." Your walls spasm around his cock; waves of your finish crashing down on you again and again as you call out his name. Rafe yours as he floods you with his seed. You can feel his dick twitching inside you, your body milking every last drop of his cum.
Rafe's forehead falls to your neck in exhaustion. "Goddamn. I fuckin' love you, honey," he breathes as he kisses his way up your neck. "Mmm… We're gonna take real good care of you tonight, baby," Rafe moans. You can hear the excitement in his voice, matching your own, but you can't help but feel a slight apprehension.
What if this ruins what Rafe and I have?
Your demeanor must have changed because Rafe notices instantly. "Talk to me, princess," he respires as he holds you tight, lips resting on your shoulder as he rocks the two of you lazily.
"I'm a little worried, Rafe. This doesn't really feel like something you'd do with a girlfriend... Someone you wanna end up with. This seems like something the two of you would do with some random girl - maybe a fling. I wanna be with you... I don't see us not being together. I'm crazy about you, Rafe," your voice cracks with emotion, making him expel a soft pity laugh like you have nothing to worry about.
"I've got no doubt in my mind that it'll be us, Y/n. Rafe and y/n...” He pinches the gold "R" he bought you between his fingers. "I'm crazy about you too, baby. You gotta know that. Yeah? Here." Rafe tugs off his gold Cameron Family ring, gliding it on your thumb instead. "I want you to have this, Y/n."
"Really?" You gasp.
"'Course. You're mine. Alright? Tonight doesn't mean I think anythin' less of you, or I'm not serious about our relationship. M'so fuckin' serious, y/n." Rafe pulls out of your pussy, making you wince; his large palm quickly soothes the ache. Rafe turns you into his chest, wrapping his towering frame in yours. "How could I not be serious about you, baby?” He mumbles warmly against your lips. You look up at him, matching his gaze. "S'no question who you belong to, honey. Cam knows you're mine. I had you first. M'gonna have you when he's gone. Alright? Just let us take care of you like you take care of me. A'ight?"
"Okay, daddy," you smile as you rest your hands on Rafe's muscular chest, trying to contain your excitement as you see his ring adorned on your tiny finger. Rafe glances down as well, chuckling to himself as he sees how happy the gesture made you.
"Looks good on you, baby," he croons. "Let's have a good night. Yeah?"
"Let's do it."
++++++++
You start moving your hips to the music; the bass bumps in your chest. Your friend quickly grabs you by your hips, turning you away from her; you start grinding on her. Your hands drift up your thighs, working back down as you roll your body nice and slow. "Where's Rafe?" One of your friends screams over the track. You smile and shrug as you continue to move. "You think you could introduce me to Cam?" She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction. No way.
"Sure," you breathe, brushing her off.
Where are they? Tonight has been fun. Cam is every bit as gentlemanly as Rafe. He asked me about school, my major, and my friends, but it was all very "normal", almost as if that conversation with Rafe in the shower hadn't happened.
Was he genuinely interested in me like Rafe said he was? Or did he change his mind? You look out into the packed college bar; a deep sea of students grinding and moving to the beat. Your dance partner gives you a sloppy kiss on the cheeks before getting whisked away by her boyfriend, leaving you solo again.
The void is quickly filled as your body is claimed by Rafe, taking you from behind. He presses his chest against your back, rough hands working up your bare thighs, resting on your hips. "You look good, baby girl," he groans. "This fuckin' body." His lips meet your neck, kissing and nipping his way to your ear as you grind to the beat. You can feel his rock-hard cock through his jeans, pressed against your ass. His rough fingers move down, drifting lower and lower, making your pulse below. "Bet this pussy's so wet," he groans, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
Rafe applies a little more pressure, pressing his fingers on top of your clothed pussy; rubbing small circles on top. Oh my god. Your body tingles, warmth coursing through your system as you feel little spurs of pleasure between your thighs. You breathe deeply, taking in his cologne, eyes widening when you take in a subtle differences.
This isn't Rafe.
You look ahead, watching as Rafe lifts his red SOLO cup to his lips, his smirk half-seen as he stares you down. He gives you a flirty nod before tossing back the rest of his gin and tonic. You look down at the large set of hands on your body, seeing his twins matching gold Cameron ring on his finger. Cam's body is familiar, the shape of him fitting perfectly with yours, but his hold is heavy, touch not as gentle as Rafe's. His kisses are rough, sending chills up your spine as you rest your hands on top of his, guiding them closer to your sweet spot as Rafe watches on.
Cam's fingers trace your inner thigh, toying with the soaked lace of your panties. "Y/n..." He moans against your skin. You lean back against him, tipping your chin up in his. Your heart skips a beat when you see Cam's face, the sight of him making this all that more real. He looks so good, so fucking good; Rafe's double in every sense of the word, donning a black v-neck instead of a white. His gold chain lays on his chiseled chest, glinting in the laser lights. The only visible difference is his buzzed hair. Cam wets his lip, blue eyes sparkling down on yours.
He pushes your panties to the side, causing you to gasp; Cam quickly claims your lips, stealing your breath. Rafe's brother teases your entrance with the tip of his rough finger, making you whimper on his lips. He draws his hand away, bending you over. You rest your hands on your knees as you throw your ass back into him. Cam's grip tightens on your hips, pulling you closer; the two of you fucking clothed.
Rafe pinches his jeans, adjusting himself clearly, loving what he sees. He calls over to the bartender, yelling for his tab, making your heart pick up pace as you see the plan set in motion.
Cam grabs you by your waist, turning you around; pulling you close to his chest. One hand works around the back of your neck, guiding your focus toward his eyes as his other hand continues to massage your clit. You feel a heat building in your belly, lashes fluttering as you look up at him.
"Rafe said you were a good girl, y/n. That true?" He rasps in a voice just a little deeper than Rafe's.
"I - I'm a good girl," you whimper.
"Then cum for me." Cam pulls you in a little closer as you feel yourself about to lose control. Fuck. Am I gonna cum in front of all these people? You look around, the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd off in their own worlds. "Eyes on me? Wanna see your face, princess. Wanna see my brother's pretty little slut cum on my hand in front of all these people," Cam taunts. He leans in, lips brushing against yours. "Our hands." Ours? You gasp as Rafe grabs you by the waist, plunging two thick fingers between your thighs. He fucks them into your pussy effortlessly, curling and stroking with precision.
"He told you to cum," Rafe warns.
You grit your teeth, gripping onto Rafe's wrist and Cam's shirt as your orgasm claims your body. The two boys work you through your release. Cam watches you closely, taking in your beautiful features as you cum for him for the first time. Rafe slips his fingers out of your pussy, sucking the mess clean as he always does. "What do you say, brother? Let's get our girl outta here. Hmm?"
Part 2 ���🩷
#rafecore#rafe cameron#drew starkey#rafe cameron smut#xxbutdaddyilovehimxx#rafe cameron x smut#drew starkey smut#rafe outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe x rafe x reader#rafe twins#rafe x y/n#rafe x me#boyfriend rafe cameron#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron smut one shot#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron x reader
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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #1
Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, and violence.
MASTERPOST
The heat radiating from the crowd, along with the smell of sex, hits you in the face as the door clicks open and the pilot bot dumps you unceremoniously into the dirt.
Your heart thuds in your chest, but it’s not because of the excitement you thought you would feel.
You’re scared shitless.
But this is what you wanted, this is what you signed up for.
“Mates needed for Volkroth spawning season. All expenses paid for biologically compatible species.”
You wanted someone to be rough with you, to be a fucking barbarian with you.
Maybe it was too much to expect an orientation before being dropped off at the spawning pits. You figured after the extensive medical testing, to ensure biological capability, that they’d ease you in.
You were so wrong.
Besides the chorus of fucking masses that surround you, there’s the guttural noises of males as they slam their fists into each other’s bodies.
Something you didn’t realize from the holo communication is that the aliens are fucking huge.
They tower over you as one purple brute rips the other male off a yellow alien female, who arguably looks like she’s having a great time. She even laughs as the male turns and clocks the attacking alien on the jaw.
His bones audibly snap as he crumples to the ground. You’re not sure if the breaking noise was his jaw or his neck—but you don’t think anyone cares.
They’re barbaric! They kill soldiers deemed too weak to fight, how could you want to mate a Volkroth? Your roommates disgusted face flashes in your mind as you wonder if the alien on the ground is dead or not.
“If you’re too weak to fight, you’re too weak to carry on the bloodline,” the victor yells.
The last male standing drips with the perspiration of sex, his body slick and shining. Unlike the one you saw on the holo comm, he’s completely nude.
More importantly, the big beast has two massive cocks resting on one heavy set of balls. They twist around each other, almost looking like they’re prehensile. You must gasp, because you draw his attention.
You scramble to stand when the alien’s eyes fall on you. His thick black hair, falling free of his top knot, spilling over the four horns. There are two on either side of his head, that curl proudly away from his face.
“A human?” He almost laughs as he says it. “I’d have thought you’re kind too soft, too exotic to be in the spawning pits with the rest of us.”
His voice is deadly smooth as he approaches you, a predator stalking his prey.
You’re frozen, even if your brain is screaming to flee, that you shouldn’t let this monster near you.
But there’s a broken part of your judgement that wants him to grab you by the neck and fuck you into the dirt.
So you stay still, stuck between two desires, your heart in your throat.
You crane your head up to look at him. He moves one very deliberate step closer. He’s so close now you can feel his breath on your face.
His golden eyes darken, and he licks his lips.
“You should run,” his voice is almost a whisper as it leaves his mouth.
The logical part of your mind wins, and you bolt. But you don’t have time to worry about where you’re running too. You feel his huge hand shoot around your midsection, pulling you back against his body.
His enormous cocks strain against your ass, the thin fabric of your jumpsuit doing nothing to protect you from the heat of his body. He brings his free hand up to your neck and squeezes rough fingers against the column of your throat. It sends sparks down to your weeping pussy and you squirm in his hold.
“I want you full and dripping with my seed, and only mine, human,” he breathes into your ear.
You bite back a moan.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want a beast to breed you, to make you submit?”
“Yes,” you manage to eek out. The first words you’ve spoken on this planet are to agree to be some space barbarians plaything.
His hand rips the neckline of your jumpsuit, exposing your breast to the planet’s humid air. Your nipples pebble instantly as he drags his rough hand over the sensitive flesh.
The hand on your neck weaves into your hair, grabbing your ponytail and yanking your head further back until your cheek rests against his. His stubble rubs your cheek raw.
“How do you want it?” He asks.
“Rough,” You groan as his fingers pinch your nipple. You arch your back, searching for some friction as your hips lift. You want him to fuck you.
Suddenly, there’s a flash of pain and you yelp as his hand comes down hard, sharply smacking your tit.
“Can you handle rough, with all this softness?” His palms smoothes over the agitated skin of your red breast, the stinging melting into something blurred with an intense pleasure.
“Only one way to find out,” You say, with some shocking boldness. “Fuck me.”
His breath catches at your change in tone.
This is what you wanted. Your body is singing with joy. You want him to use you; You want him to fucking breed you.
You look back at the alien, and his brows are knit. A look of resolution crosses his face.
“I won’t share you,” he says before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
NEXT PART
#monster fucker#monster fuqqer#monster smut#monsterfuqqer#monster romance#monster lover#smut#terato#aliens#i love aliens#alien romance#alien x reader#alien x human#alien#petra palerno#STTABshort
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Pretty when you cry | c.l
pairing: mean!dom!charles x sub!gasly!reader
warnings: smut, taking virginity, cnc, gagging with fingers, gagging with a thong, chocking, dacryphilia, slapping, slight overstimulation, dumbification -> extended version!! (3.9k)
w/c: 2.5k
summary: After desperately trying to find your brother at a very noisy club, you surprisingly land in the arms of his best friend Charles, and you surprisingly land bend over his kitchen counter while he takes your virginity in a very mean and rough way.
song suggestion: Pretty when you cry by Lana del rey
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The music was almost hurting your ears as you slowly tried to squeeze your way through the wild crowd, pulling your arms to your chest that was perfectly hugged by the thin, red dress that you’ve bought yourself not to long ago.
You sighed as you weren’t able to see your brother anywhere even though he told you that he’d stay by your side… most of the time.
Worked out great, didn’t it?
But who were you to blame — you should have known better than that. Obviously your brother, Pierre would be celebrating with his friends and drink until dawn breaks out instead of watching if his little sister and making sure that she’s having fun.
Oh, you were having sooooo much fun trying to find your older brother and telling him that you’ll go home now since you're… tired.
But after multiple hopeless minutes of trying to find Pierre, you gave up and just decided to take seat at the bar, ordering a harmless glass of water.
Suddenly a young but rather crusty and drunk man sat himself down, right next to you even though every other seat was still available. Could this night get any better?
“Well hello, gorgeous,” he slurred his words, obviously being under the influence of too much alcohol as he came a bit closer to you, making you sliding your body a few centimetres away from him,
“I am not-”
“Shut the fuck up and let the man speak, are we clear?” He interrupted you as his palm touched your bare skin on your back, fingers gliding along your shivering figure. You never felt that kind of fear before.
“Don’t be scared-”
“I am not int-”
“Shut the hell up bitch! God! You are really something else, aren’t you little one?” The stranger yelled at you in a loud tone before his fingers went further down, making tears fill up your eyes.
After swallowing at least a tiny part of your fear down, you swiftly stood up, “I said that I am not interested.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “And I said that you should shut the fuck up and let the man talk, you-”
“Excuse me?” Someone interrupted the stranger who was still touching your back. As soon as you turned around, you were quite suprised to see your brother's best friend, Charles, standing with a dark and almost possessive gaze right behind you.
You gulped as you looked up at Charles, “C-Charles, I-”
But before you could say anything, Charles grabbed the stranger by his wrist and removed his palm from your body, harshly throwing it away before he got a hold of his collar and slammed his against his seat.
“Touch her again, and I’ll make sure that you ain’t got no hands to touch her with anymore, am I clear?” Charles spoke up with pure rage in his voice, quickly letting go of the young, disgusting man before he looked down at your slightly paralysed figure.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked you as soon as the young man left, hand now gently touching your arm, thumb drawing circles onto your skin.
You slowly nodded, “I-I am-” but you couldn’t get the words out, you just started crying and before you knew it, you stood up and fell into your brother's best friend's arms, tightly hugging him as he put his chin on top of your head and shushed you.
“Shh,” he whispered as his palms caressed your back, “It’s okay now, I am here, alright?” Charles asked you as he looked down at you, wiping your tears away before he gave you a quick and short peck onto the top of your head.
You briefly wiped one last tear away before you lifted your head and looked up at Charles, “I w-want to go home b-but I can’t find my b-brother.” Quickly looking around the big, noisy room again to see if you maybe see him now but no chance, Pierre was nowhere in sight.
Charles briefly scanned the room as well before he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and answered,
“I can take you home if you want to, sweetheart,” Charles whispered in your ear while his hands didn’t leave your still shaking body, you nodded before your eyes widened.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Pierre has my keys! I can’t go home without him!” You nervously told your brother's best friend.
Maybe you’ve imagined it, but you could swear on your older brother that Charles’s eyes briefly darkened as he looked down at you, hands leaving your body as he got his car keys with one hand, and his phone with the other.
You gulped and shook those thoughts away before you leaned forward and glanced at his phone where he’s typing something, other hand playing with his Ferrari car key.
“What are you doing, Charles?” You mumbled. He briefly looked at you, eyes still kind of darker than before,
“I’m texting your brother that I’ve found you and that I’ll take you home with me, okay?” Quickly putting his finger through the big chain that’s attached to his car key before he swiftly took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.
You were just able nod as the monaguesque leaded the two of your out of the loud club, hand tightly grabbing yours since he really didn’t wanna lose you in that big crowd.
Even through the two of you are not dating, Charles always had a special place in your heart that the other friends of your brother didn’t had. Since today you’re not sure which kind of place that is but you always just brushed the feeling away that you’ve got as soon as Charles looked into your eyes or touched you since you were the little sister of his best friend.
And something like that could never end well, right?
“Thank you,” you quietly thanked him in a hush tone as he opened the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before he went over to the drivers seat, immediately starting the engine, making it roar so loud that most of the people that stood outside turned their heads and looked in your direction.
You just gave the a small, polite smile before Charles already took off and drove you to his home.
- - -
“I’ve actually never seen your house before,” you said as you entered Charles's million dollar mansion in Monaco, feeling his big palm on your back as he leaded you the way towards his living room.
Charles hand left you right before he sat himself down onto one of the big sofas in the modern room, you took a seat at the other one right at the opposite of him.
After taking a deep breath, you leaned down and desperately tried to removed your black high heels, but you felt so exhausted that you just sighed and leaned back again, not even trying.
“Should I help you?” Charles asked you in a quiet but deep tone, already getting on his knee in front of you.
You just nodded, muttering a quiet 'thank you' before his fingertips touched your ankle, slowly gliding them down to the hard fabric before he gently opened your heel and removed it from your tired feet, putting it down right next to him.
Then his hands went to your other leg, fingertips touching your knee now, briefly looking up at you. With slightly widened eyes, you looked down at him, hands gripping onto the couch as his soft fingers glided down your leg until he reached the dark heel.
After a few seconds, he was also able to remove your other heel but this time he bend his body downwards and kissed the spot right above foot, just briefly pecking it but it made you blush like a little school girl that just received her very first kiss.
“Thank you Charles, for everything tonight,” you mumbled as he set the other heel next to the first one down, putting your foot down again, looking up at your sitting figure
“No need to thank me mon chéri,” he answered in a hush tone.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him after he stood up, your heels in his hands as he carries then to the front door, gently setting them down before he turned his body around and look at you.
“I am sorry that you guys have to go through stuff like that almost everyday,” Charles started talking about the man in the club, making your ears peek up, “Men are disgusting, no arguments there, that’s for sure.” The monaguesque told you while you nodded along,
“They r-really are, yeah,” you quietly answered as you crossed your legs and leaned your body backwards, eyes not leaving his slightly darker ones.
“I mean,” you started again, “I guess that I don’t know a lot about men or at least their… sexual behaviour since I’ve never been touched by one but they are definitely… disgusting, nasty, ugly, pricks.”
Suddenly, Charles stood a bit straighter, slowly taking baby steps towards your figure on the sofa.
“What do you mean that you’ve never been touched by a man before, sweetheart?” You briefly blushed at the infamous nickname before you spoke up,
“Well, I-I am a Virgin, so-”
And Charles quietly laughed. Only very, very quietly and softly but you were definitely able to hear it, no doubts.
“You-, You’re a virgin?” Charles asked as he stood almost right in front of you, forcing you to look up at your brother's best friend.
You nodded, “yeah, I j-just don’t want to waste it, you know?” You gulped as he stood right in front of you, hands in the pocket of his dark slacks as he looked down into your big eyes looking at him.
“Yeah, I understand,” he mumbled in a deep tone, eyes now visibly darker… for some reason that you couldn’t catch onto.
Then, after starring at each other eyes for a couple of seconds, Charles removed one of his hand from his pocket and put it on your check, thumb gliding along your bottom lip as his lips turned into a very tiny smirk.
You furrowed your brows as you looked up at the Ferrari driver, thumb now softly and slowly caressing your bottom lip. And then he tapped onto your lip, silently asking you to open your mouth and suck on his thumb.
And to your surprise, you did as you were told and opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb.
“I knew it,” Charles muttered as you furrowed your brows again, not knowing what he meant by that.
“I fuckin' knew that you were not the pretty little innocent girl that’s just Pierre’s little sister and nothing more,” he whispered in a deep tone, “Your doing so good for me, ma chérie.”
You took his thumb a bit deeper into your mouth while he opened his pants, removing his belt before he freed himself.
And oh my god, was that fucking big.
He chuckled in a deep tone as he saw how your eyes widened, thumb leaving your greedy mouth, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” slowly leaning forward so that his mouth was hovering above your ear, “I’ll make it fit in every single hole of yours,” he told you, making you gulp before he brushed some hair out of your face.
“Stick your tongue out, baby,” Charles demanded in a rather soft tone. He got a hold of his big cock and slapped the tip of it onto your wet tongue, repeatedly doing so while you kept your hat on his one.
“That’s my good girl,” he muttered deeply as he shoved his dick down your throat, at first very slowly but then going a bit faster as he noticed your want for it.
“Fucking shit,” he groaned loudly, “if your brother would only know what I am doing with you now and what I am gonna do with you after you’re down with sucking my cock, then I would be dead.” He stated as his breathing pattern got more uneven, feeling his orgasm approaching him while you gagged around his cock.
“O-Oh my god, just l-like that!” He groaned deeply as he got a hold of the back of your head, forcing your mouth even further down his cock while he looked down at you.
You continued gagging on his cock as he shoved him further down your throat, making tears shoot into your eyes, Charles was only able to growl as he noticed that.
He removed your head from his cock and slapped his leaking tip onto your sticked out tongue, smirking while doing so, “if your b-brother should ever p-provoke before, during or after a r-race, I am gonna record you in that e-exact state and send it t-to him, I swear I-I do that.”
You gasped and quickly closed your mouth, in the meanwhile — Charles took your hand and leaded it to his erection, forcing you to jerk him off, “Please d-don’t do that c-charles, Pierre would kill b-both of u-us.” You answered quietly.
He chuckled at your reaction, one hand on your wrist as he guided your hand that was currently jerking him off while the other hand held your chin, thumb playing with your now slightly cum covered lip.
“We'll see… it depends.” He mumbled.
You tilted your head to the side but charles didn’t liked that, immediately turning your head again and pushing your face slightly forward.
“Depends on what?” You asked him innocently, hand not stopping the movements on his cock.
“Depends on how good of a good girl you are for me tonight, you understand?”
You slowly nodded, gulping at his demanding tone. Charles smiled in a wicked way, “Good.”
Then, he gently took your hand and removed it from his cock, tightly gripping your upper arm and pulling your body up, leading you in a quick and careless way towards the kitchen counter, swiftly bending you over it.
“C-Charles, what are you d-”
But your sentence was cut off by his big palm slapping over your mouth, suddenly feeling his closer to your body.
He got a hold of your thong, dragging it down your legs.
You expected him to put it down onto the counter next to you, or maybe dropping it onto the floor but that wasn’t the case, no — he tied the thin, white material around your mouth, not making it unable for you to speak but also not making it able for you to speak properly.
You gulped, or at least desperately tried to do so, as Charles made sure that the white piece of clothing is tightly tied around your mouth, feeling how he exposed your ass, dick gliding along your wet entrance now.
And once again, you gasped at the feeling, especially since you were feeling it for the first time.
“Do you trust me, mon amour?” Charles whispered in your ear from behind while the tears didn’t stop.
You refused to answer for a few seconds but then you mumbled through your thong,
“Yes.”
He quietly sighed, “Bad idea.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc ferrari#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#smut#Patreon
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Young recruit!König is so silly :33
He gets jealous over everything you touch. You’re supposed to be with him!! Your feet should NOT touch the ground! Sit on his back, or hang onto him like a koala while he fucks you deeply. Loves watching your boobs bounce in his face, teeth grabbing onto a nipple and dick twitching at your tiny squeal.
“Bet he can’t do this” he says as he spins you around like it’s a circus performance, before plopping you down on his dick again, the squeal now turning into a shriek.
Hisses at the cat he stole for you ^_^ and fights for your attention. He cockwarms you while u both sleep and he wakes up from his cool ass dream (it was you two living in a beautiful house, happily married. Not that he’ll ever admit that) because the damn rabid orange thing bit his toe.
He’d be in the hospital, a broken arm and leg from his latest mission, and he’ll beg you to come closer. Literally almost tears up (it’s fake), and you stand up from your chair and walk up next to his hospital bed. Haha! :D You fell for the trick! He’s so happy you wore a skirt, now he can finger u aaaall he wants! (He’ll demand you to sit on his dick after a while but you refuse, already embarrassed as hell.)
He is NEVER allowed near coffee. He would become an atomic bomb with all that extra energy added to his chaotic personality. When he’s petty though he’ll take a big gulp of your afternoon coffee, ending in him fucking you the whole night. He can’t help it!! He needs to let his energy out, and who else is better for the job than you? 🫶
Anon this is so crazy & cute AHHHH. I love every single word 😭❤️!
Young recruit is in serious need of some behavioral therapy and would profit from a few electric shocks, but sadly he has better things to do (such as chase and bully you!)
Flexes on his strength and muscles every chance he gets, walks around with no shirt on, sometimes even without his pants on because he loves to see that shocked look on your face. You always gasp like a virgin who’s never even seen a cock when he walks into the kitchen with nothing on, it’s too adorable ❤️
Grins when you rush to draw the curtains together so that neighbors won’t see his half-hard dick – König has some serious exhibitionistic tendencies, gladly it’s just to get your attention, but he could be a little more discreet with that schlong… You can manage without sexual harassment lawsuits crowding your mailbox, thank you very much!
And the need to show off doesn’t end there: König has to fuck you on every surface of you and the Colonel’s house. An attempt to claim you and this place as his own, mark you both with his scent or something – or then to destroy the Colonel’s precious antique mahogany furniture, who knows.
Trying to trick him to participate in NNN ends in a horrible mess because he all but wrecks the nearest gym’s equipment while attempting to survive a week without warming his cock inside you. Refuses to sleep on the couch to prevent himself from getting life-threatening boners around you, and so it all ends with König waking you up one night with the messiest hard on you’ve ever felt or seen. Has the audacity to say that it’s your fault he’s in this state, and it’s your job to do something about this dick before he goes nuts. (“Nuts”, heh…! Isn’t he funny?)
And the cat he got you quickly takes a liking to you, he didn’t expect it to steal so much of your attention :( The tabby gets sunshine smiles and enthusiastic babbles by simply jumping into your lap and curling there. You look down at it with unbridled joy as it starts to purr and paw at you, sometimes you squeeze it against you and kiss its nose.
He can’t believe he’s jealous of a fluffy murderous kitten, who, on top of everything, bears his name because it "reminds you of him". Reminds you of him, this crazy killing machine who steals socks and bites toes at night?? Who hauls you dead rodents and follows you around everywhere you go, even to the bathroom? Pfft…
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If you're planning to start drawing comics, there's something I need to tell you: while it's good to challenge yourself and put yourself outside of your comfort zone, the page is not where you practice.
You can, should, and as a matter of fact must occasionally draw things that you're not good with, things you don't draw often, and from angles you haven't tried before, but that kind of practices and studies should be in your sketchbooks and casual drawing. While it's good to have ambitions, and plan to draw things you haven't drawn before, do not try to draw something you dislike drawing (like crowds, characters in motion, dynamic poses from a bird's eye view) for the first time right on the page you're drawing. You might think you're going to do better than that, but eventually you will just go "fuck it, badly done is better than undone" and the characters in what should have been the most dramatic and impactful panel of the scene instead look like this:
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(NSFW) Perfect Match - Tighnari x Fem!Tighnarian!Reader
A/N: Here's the third fem reader post for the few that happen to be on this blog. It's been some time since I last wrote a fic like this, but it's always nice to have a switch of perspective. As usual, and especially with this one as fem reader is not my forte, I'd really appreciate any thoughts and feedback you might have. Enjoy!
CW: Tighnari is a little feral, reader and Tighnari go into heat, the usual smut.
Tighnari is such a contrast. Daily, he's quiet, patient and gentle (unless the circumstances demand something more than words), but when the heat grows, he turns just a little bit feral with you.
The reason? Simple - he loves you. Oh, yeah, and the hormones also play a part in melting his needy brain.
You've been together for some time now and Tighnari's instincts gave you the tag of his mate and he acted accordingly long before really acknowledging this. And, speaking honestly, he doesn't mind acting a little instinctual as long as you're fine with it.
Keeping you close and protecting you is what he is meant to do with you as his female. Tighnari frequently takes the initiative in simple, everyday matters. Need to get out of a crowd? He's already holding your hand and guiding you safely through the people to a quieter place. When cuddling in bed, he always shifts to be the big spoon, security your smaller, warm body in his hold, close - just as you should be. If there is any imminent danger, you'll quickly find yourself gently pushed back behind him by his arm.
He'll get possessive at times too. When he notices any other male forest rangers eyeing you with the curiosity you've got accustomed too - ears and a tail as beautiful as yours draw attention, obviously - his hand will make its way to your hip and stay there. When it's the heat season, Tighnari will also get quite defensive with you. If anybody is as little as unkind to you, he will step in to get them off your back. With all this comes a little bit of obvious suspicion, but simple communication is always enough to ease his worries about any of the other men you’re colleagues or friends with.
Does it all bother you? Oh, not at all! How could it when every inch of him just radiates this unexplainable male allure you can't get enough of?
There's something fascinating about the way he carries himself that you can't quite explain. It's how decisive he is, it's in the unique tone of his voice, it's in his subtly dominant nature. Your eyes pick up seemingly trivial things that you can't help but marvel at. You love how strong he is, be that due to his Vision or just how he is - nothing makes you more excited than being picked up (and pinned down too!). He does this with such ease too…
Being a young hybrid, Tighnari has his needs that, if not satiated, make him grumpy and quite irritated. If you're not feeling like it, he'll understand - as any good partner should. Which doesn't mean he won't be disappointed, mind you. A horny Tighnari significantly increases your chances of stumbling upon him furiously stroking himself or hearing his needy moans in the night as he blows another unsatisfying load.
Even though his hand was enough to keep his lust at bay, it was hardly satisfying. Luckily, the days of jerking the edge off are gone now. Why cum into a tissue when he can empty his balls inside you? Compared to his hand your fertile, warm and wet pussy feels like absolute heaven…
… And his fat, pulsating cock is the ideal extinguisher for the fire in your womb. Your hybrid nature leaves you just as prone to bursts of irresistible arousal as him. Your heat might be a single month at the start of the year, but living alongside a fellow tighnarian makes your brain buzz with hormones.
Between the two of you, there's a simple rule - when you're horny, you fuck. He knows well that when his thoughts wander, there's no way of fighting them off. That's when he'll signal his needs to you. Looking at you with those smug bedroom eyes, for example, is a clear sign that Tighnari would like to see you on the bed head-down-ass-up in the immediate future.
Usually, it's your smell that catches his attention. His sensitive nose can pick it up flawlessly each time. Your scent is gentle, with only the slightest hint of musk included in the mix. You'll find Tighnari cuddling especially tightly in the mornings or after physical activity when your pheromones are at their strongest. It won't take much time for his hands to wander and his cock to harden.
His scent is the perfect moisturizer for your pussy, yes, but it's also a little bothersome. Because. It. Is. Everywhere. On the pillows, on the couch, on the chairs, inside every room from the bedroom down to even the closet. In the first two months of the year it's just straight up impossible to ignore it or distract yourself from your husband's pheromones. Sometimes you're wondering if your ancestors were idiotic enough to not breed by themselves, forcing evolution into giving them this neuron activation upon catching a whiff of dick or pussy.
For example, doing laundry is tricky to do without getting flustered or horny. Tighnari’s musk is, obviously, the strongest on his clothes. So whenever you pick up one of his shirts or boxers and your sensitive nose finds just how strong his smell is, you suddenly become flustered and very interested in what's under the pair he is wearing right now.
Luckily for you, Tighnari is a good husband and will fuck his cute little wife senseless when she needs it, and you’re more than glad to return the favour when he is in need. It's a simple instinct. You're his mate, and he is yours. Your scents are impossible to ignore, sending the more primal parts of your brains a simple message - you're both young, beautiful, healthy and ready to breed. Around him, your pussy clenches at nothing, your womb longing to be filled with baby-making cum, and around you his balls ache from all the creamy, virile seed he is making for you.
This awareness, awareness of you being ripe for the picking, makes you irresistible for him.
Although Tighnari's cock might be average in size, what he lacks in length he makes up for in sex drive and pure ferocity. He can fuck fast and he can fuck hard. He won't be stopping himself from manhandling you - you'll surely be surprised by just how strong a male like him can be. Whatever playful resistance efforts you may make and regardless of how much force you put into them, Tighnari will just growl and pin you down every single time.
Primal play always gets him hot and bothered. In bed, he's the natural lead. He's the hungry predator, and you're his cute little prey. Struggle all you can, but at the end there's no escape from a thorough breeding. His hybrid stamina lets him cum again and again with barely any downtime between powerful orgasms that fill your insides with warm cum.
His go to position is prone bone. Having your smaller, feminine body pinned under his weight, your hands locked under his and your pretty mouth desperately biting the sheets as he forces his swollen knot in and out of you drives him positively feral. Doggy style is also quite fun. Grabbing your tail and pulling it away to reveal your tight little asshole and drenched pussy lips is extremely satisfying. Sometimes he grabs your head and pulls it back, thoroughly enjoying the sight of your long ears folding in submission.
While he isn't too much into receiving oral, he won't ever pass up the opportunity to feast on your pussy. If you give him the chance to, you'll find Tighnari greedily lapping at your folds, drinking up your scent and arousal like a parched man. When you sit on his face, you'll have a nice view of his cock, swollen, twitchy and overflowing with precum, just waiting to nestle in between your warm lower lips. How can this sight make you anything but absolutely crazy for his dick? You'll often find yourself locked in a sixty-nine with both of you furiously licking each other with your rough tongues. If he couples it with a passionate fuck afterwards, you'll be lucky to have your pretty legs work in the morning.
But it is in January and February when your lust really makes an appearance. These two months are usually taken out of the calendar for you two - being apart from each other during your heat after having tasted what having a mate feels like is torture. Not even the best toys can replace him - they won't ever mimic his warmth, his desperate and frustrated groans, his arms locking your body in place or his ears, trembling and folding from the pleasure as he breeds you.
His instincts tell him to pump a litter or two into your womb, and he'll announce his needs to you, whether you decide to go through with it or not. A condom or a pill is an absolute must if you want to be safe - it's usually very difficult to keep yourself from letting the lust take full control. It's absolutely not because your pussy milks him and throbs so much, desperate to suck him in just that millimeter deeper and get absolutely pumped with his baby making milk and end up leg locking him.
Mornings with Tighnari are always fun, regardless of the season. You'll sometimes wake up to the sensation of him rubbing his length along your ass, moaning your name softly into your ear and asking, begging to be let in. You usually let him - it's not like you're not guilty of blowing him awake either. Whoever is the “waker-up”, they can certainly expect a wonderful, lazy morning breeding.
Thanks for reading!
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x fem reader#genshin x fem reader#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#smut#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x y/n#genshin impact tighnari#tighnari#tighnari x reader#tighnari x fem reader#tighnari x you#tighnari x y/n#tighnari smut#fem reader
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half empty glasses with unchanging perspectives
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: You hated time spent alone as it encouraged all your past traumas to come flooding in. Seeking some semblance of relief, you find yourself drinking alone at the pub. However, you regret your decision when you lock eyes with Simon.
part i - behind closed doors
part ii - hollow apologies and avoiding glances
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)
okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!
warnings: mentions of torture/violence/cuts/scars, swearing, abusive language, ANGST GALORE
a/n: PART III IS HERE! i busted this out after doing some studying but i hope you enjoy another dose of angst
💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque
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You crossed off the calendar marking another “successful” therapy appointment. “Only forty of those fucking crying sessions,” you laughed sardonically. Your hand was smeared with the wet red ink as you sat down on your uniformly made bed. Today was your day off and you fidgeted at the lack of obligations. Most of your colleagues had gone home or spent little time off base. You missed those days when you actually could let your guard down and enjoy the company of others. You sighed as you sunk into your bed, squeezing your eyes tightly as another migraine coursed through your head.
After months since your ordeal, you finally returned to base. Your eyes stung at the fluorescent lights in the hallway and the squeak of military-grade boots. "You alright, Sergeant?" the pharmacist asked as she dispensed a large bag of pills and blister packs to you. "Just a headache," you mumbled as you brought a scarred hand to your face. She had a pleasant smile as she put the bag on the counter "The paracetamol should help," she hummed and you thanked her on your way out of the automatic doors. That night as you counted out 7 different pills of varying size and color, you swallowed them hard with a bottle of water. "God, can't wait until I'm done with these."
Your hand searched for the pill case on your nightstand until you felt the large plastic container. You systematically counted your daily meds, each colored tablet making your stomach churn at the idea. "And another paracetamol for luck," you chuckled to yourself as you swallowed the handful. You continued to stare at the ceiling in absolute boredom. Part of the reason why you hated the silence on base was the creeping thoughts of that dark, cold room. You tried books, drawing, meditation, and even increasing your visits to the gym by twofold. Yet, every time you returned to your quarters, you felt yourself unravel piece by piece.
"Fuck this," you yelled at no one and got up to change into something more presentable. You tried to smooth your hair and poked at the almost naturally appearing eye bags that aged you immensely. Pleasantries of fragrance and accessories weren't your prerogative as you closed your door and walked to inform the appropriate officials of your last-minute decision to leave the base. You tried to suppress the rising anger at the surprised looks on your superiors' faces as well as the turned heads as you climbed into your car. You beat your fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel as you thought of your next actions with all the free time in the world. As your car crept slowly on the street, you took a right turn to the only destination you could think of: the pub.
As you found parking amongst the hundreds of cars, you smiled at the notion of finding solitude along with the drunken crowds and clangs of glasses. You pushed through the loud laughter and cheers as you ordered a single lowball glass of cheap whiskey. You threw your money on the counter and found a quiet corner to peoplewatch. Your throat burned as you swallowed the brown liquor and cursed the hangover you would have in the morning. Your wallowing was interrupted by the loud cheers of a certain group, one you never wanted to see again.
"SHOTS ALL AROUND!" you could hear Soap call as you observed him hand small glasses of a highly flammable liquid around. The group laughed and then slightly cringed at the taste of it. You could feel your hands tighten around the glass as you looked at the group. "So goddamn normal," you mumbled under your breath before you took another drink. You turned your body slightly and shielded yourself from their merriment. You tried to calm your breathing as you drank faster and faster. This was the last fucking thing you needed. "Slow down there, friend," the bartender winked at you as he watched you down the beverage. You rolled your eyes at the suggestion before you continued to look at the half-empty glass.
'You really should slow down," a voice said as he joined on the empty seat next to you. Your body tensed at the voice and you didn't even need to look to know it was your old lieutenant seated next to you. So much for enjoying a night out. "And what the fuck would you know," you shouted over the loud crowd. Your throat winced at the rising tone and ached from the liquor that burned your insides. "I know that those aren't good for the medication you're taking," Simon softly replied and you threw a hand at him in dismissal. "Now who told you that," you countered, "the same man who gave you the go-ahead to keep me in a room and torture me until I confessed."
There was a beat of silence, as for once, Simon was at a loss for words. He thumbed at his frosty glass, letting the condensation drip onto the counter. "Anyways what are you here for?" you asked sarcastically, "wonder how many bodies you boys left before you returned." Simon shook his head at your comment, taking another sip from his drink. He practically finished it, necessitating a refill from the overworked bartender. "What are you getting at, Eclipse?" he replied and you cringed at the use of your old codename. You let out a dry laugh as you casually sipped on the disgusting beverage. "Don't fucking lie, Simon," you said, venom in your tone, "you can come here, drink in victory, but I know how cruel you can be."
You sat uncomfortably for a few moments and looked on at the roaring crowds. The rest of the 141 had dispersed among the patrons but you could feel their piercing gaze on your scarred skin. "Nothing to say, Simon," you cynically laughed again, "god you really haven't changed." From the corner of your eye, you could see how he shifted in his seat and picked at the calluses on his hands. It almost felt relieving seeing the amount of power you held over him in this moment. This should have made you whole again. If not the previous altercation in the hallway, then this right here. But as you looked back down at your glass, you still felt the same painful wounds ooze open.
“It’s nice to see you again, Eclipse,” Ghost spoke, barely reaching an audible volume over the loud pub, “I’m haunted by the things I did to you.” At that, you couldn’t help but let your drink drop on the counter, sloshing a sickly reddish brown liquid across the wood. “Sure you fucking are, Simon,” you mumbled as you looked at the mess, “I hope you have nightmares about the shit you did.” He hung his head in response, taking another long swig of his all-too-expensive drink. “Will you ever forgive me?” he asked and you practically could double over laughing. “Gaz and Soap maybe but as for you and the Captain,” you said lowly as you got up from the stool. You leaned closely to his ear to reiterate your sentiments, “You would have to crawl across the earth for my forgiveness.”
#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#modern warfare 2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#soap x reader#price x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john price x reader#Johnny mactavish x reader#mw2 imagine#madebyizzie#izzie is writing#eclipse!series
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thinking about how johnny asks moon to be his wife as soon as they meet 😭
i just wanna know so bad how would the guys react if their lil crush actually agreed
like soap asks moon for her hand in marriage and shes just like ok sure
actual marriage or does soap just go straight to dating status instead
You give that man an inch and he'll take a mile.
Soap spots you for the second time in as many weeks across the bar. The only decent pub near campus, and thus the only place he and the 141 scurry off to. Apparently the only place you know to hide out as well. He feels a little guilty abandoning his mates, but they'll understand. (Understand that he's pining and you're smart enough to know better) Again you don't even look up when he takes the seat next to you.
"Tennessee," He greets, tapping the bar for a pint. You glance at him with a sigh.
"Doctor," You correct, and he can't help the smile that takes over his face. You're just so pretty, sweet little accent and round vowels making him want to pinch you.
"Mrs. Mactavish," He offers instead. You roll your eyes and sip your drink. Not beer this time, it's a short glass with neat amber liquid tipping against the side. "Whiskey?"
"Bourbon," You mumble.
"You'd get on with Ghost, couple of good ol' boys," Soap mutters, giving a half hearted sniff at the offending liquid. You smile against the rim of your glass, your teeth catching the edge in a way that Soap can't help but find charming. It's like you're trying to hide that he could have any affect on you.
"Maybe I should be talking to him instead," You set your glass down, glancing around the bar. Something in Soap's chest burns, his ears hot as he settles a hand on your knee and leans close to catch your eye.
"Ah saw ya first," He tips his head, watching the way you lean back to avoid bumping him, pretty thing, pretty pretty thing, "Ah dinnae ken if ah could give ya up."
You hum, pluck his hand off your knee and set it on the bar. Those few seconds of holding your hand leave him wanting, every spare molecule of your touch buzzing when you let him go. "I'm not interested in dating coworkers," You tell him firmly.
"Was thinkin' of somethin' closer to marriage actually."
You laugh, a mirthful sound that makes Soap want to shiver. Oh you stupid pretty thing, you don't believe him do you? "That's funny, you're funny," You signal for the bartender to refill your glass. Soap raises his fingers to double it.
"What's funny about it?" He leans against the bar, crowding you in to your seat, forcing you to keep your attention on him.
"You wantin' to marry me." Your voice raises ever so slightly at the end, question as much as statement. He wonders if you believe your own doubts, or if you're just that used to shooting people down. Soap tips his head, and you mirror the motion, your fingers grip your glass and bring the recently refilled amber to your lips. Soap traces the path of your tongue over your lips, the way you catch each drop of bourbon without so much as a flinch, his eyes trained on the motion with reverence.
"You want me to get on one knee?" He offers. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes, back to sipping your drink and ignoring him. It almost gives him an idea. "How many of those are you havin' tonight?" He nods at your glass as you settle it on the bar.
-
It takes a lot to get you drunk, a fact you're particularly proud of, but that also means once you're there it takes very little to start making terrible decisions.
Your head is pounding when you wake up. You ignore that the sheets feel funny in favor of rubbing your fingers against your eyes. A quick wince when you bump something metal makes you draw your hand away to inspect the ring on your finger. A diamond bracketed by two rubies. Gold. You don't wear gold.
"What the fuck?" You mumble, trying to piece together the gap of memory you have in your night. Johnny pops his head into the bedroom and gives you a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to manage anger around the splitting headache. You sit up, or attempt to, as he saunters into the room, and just as quickly grab the sheets to pull them back up over your bare chest.
"Please tell me we didn't fuck," You grit, closing your eyes against the sunshine he draws into the room.
"Course not," Johnny's fingers find your jaw, tipping your head back, "wouldnae take advantage of ya like tha'." You keep your eyes shut tight even as relief courses through you. God you can't think of anything worse than sleeping with your coworker before the semester has even started. "Did get married though," Johnny fills in, giving you a peck of a kiss before pulling away, "be careful with the ring, yeah? Family heirloom an' all that."
Ok. One thing worse than sleeping with your coworker before the semester has started.
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap cod#soap mw2#soap x reader#professor au#oc: moon
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F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✴ Carlos Sainz ✴
smut ✴ 18+ readers only
I. Flirt.
He thinks of himself as a very classy guy. He has no desire to be the loudest in the crowd or draw too much attention to himself. He feels the same about flirting. He’d rather live up to his nickname, Smooth Operator, and subtly yet suavely get your attention. He's also decidedly somewhat against PDA with a few minor exceptions depending on the occasion. But when you’re alone, he’s all over you. He’s also very romantic, a man who doesn’t just buy you roses or light a few candles because he thinks that’s what he should do. He genuinely enjoys it and can riff off of the classic romantic gestures to make them perfectly tailored to you. But mostly because he’s private and quite protective, PDA is at a very discrete minimum.
II. Propositioning.
Again, he’ll lead with romance. A deep kiss that takes your breath away. Tender and lingering touches once you’re behind closed doors. He’ll lead you to the base of the bed, kissing your neck and hands running over the skin, bunching up the bottom of your top. Carlos is also pretty controlled. He tends to have a pretty good cap on whatever emotions are just bubbling underneath, so he’s not exactly ripping you out of the party to take out in the back alley. It’s much less saucy and provocative. But once you know him, know his mannerisms and expressions, he can still light a fire in the pit of your belly by simply making eye contact with you over the ring of his glass. The mask he wears is neutral, perfectly acceptable for the public occasion but you know what he’s thinking. You can practically see it spelled out on his forehead. You’ll do your best to convince him to head home early.
III. Libido.
He could go all day but finds that a waste of an entire day. He’s young and athletic, so he benefits from his strength and stamina. He definitely would not consider himself a sexual person though you would be first to argue that he certainly fucks like one. Sexuality would be so private for him, and he would need to feel comfortable as well, so one-night stands had been mostly infrequent before you.
IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty.
Tame: Red dresses. High heels. Red fingernail polish. Dangly earrings. Low-cut tops. When you touch his bicep when you laugh. Watching you dance. When his cooking makes you moan. Reaching out for him in the middle of the night. Watching you lean over to take a golf shot and you purposefully wiggle your bum because you know he’s watching. Short golf skirts and those little white socks with sneakers. Nails scratching against his scalp. Drinking beer. Hide behind him. Letting him feed you. Watching each other from across the room.
Nasty: When you open your mouth and stick out your tongue at him to show him you’ve swallowed all he gave you. You sprawled on the bed with your hair fanned out behind you, covered in a mist of sweat with a tied, satisfied smile. When he starts taking you harder from behind so you have to reach back and hold on to him. Desperate gasps of his name. Eye contact. When he hits just the right spot and you let out some sort of exclamation.
V. Self-stimulation.
Generally when he’s away, it's with his imagination. Maybe a sex video off the internet if he’s looking for the release to relieve stress more than sexual frustration. Would never and does not ask about nudes but happily accepts them if you’re willing to share. Facetime sex is also an option but he has to be wined and dined, so to speak. He doesn’t want you to just answer completely bare or in the shower. He wants you to make some sort of effort, maybe a lovely dress or one of his shirts and colour coordinated panties. Something that shows him you’ve been looking forward to the call as much as he has.
VI. Foreplay.
If you wanted, he’d happily go down on you and expect nothing in return. Sometimes, you’ll even offer or reach to thank him–still dazed from your orgasm and he’ll stop you. “If only we had all day, cariño.” he’ll smile softly before he kisses you deeply and gets out of bed. He’s easily convinced for another full round in the shower but he’ll start to get antsy if you keep him beyond that. Doing something whilst you’re winding down in the evening isn’t sworn off by any means and wine can make his hands wander. But he needs to at least feel like he’s done more with his day than just you.
VII. Rhythm.
Because he is so genuinely romantic, he prefers a tender and savouring rhythm. Relatively quiet during sex, not because he’s not feeling it or is embarrassed. He’s just always so much in his head and sex can be quite emotional for him. You can get him out of it with enough coaxing and making him feel so good he loses his inhibitions. Otherwise, he’s a lot of shallow breathing and gentle groans.
VIII. How He Likes It.
He’s a missionary guy with some variation: legs folded to your chest, held down so you're folded in half or propped up against his shoulders. Maybe with you sideways beneath him while he’s still poised on top of you. Mostly he’s focused on keeping your eye contact or watching you react to what he’s giving you. Though, he feels best in doggy but sometimes fully can’t concentrate on thrusting when you start circling your hips and throwing it back.
IX. Location, location, location.
Obviously, being so private, it’s in the comfort and safety of whatever bedroom you find yourselves staying in that week. Craziest place you’ve done it is a golf course. One of the very few times you’ve let him drag you to the course and he pretends like you aren’t half asleep ranting about groundwater pollution and the loss of habitat on the way there. But he likes seeing you in the little outfit and the way you cling to him since you’re so out of your element. It’s also one of the rare times he’s gone without his usual golf entourage which makes it feel like you simply must take advantage. He’s not really much for you topping so you considered it another reason for the special occasion when you come across hole number 11 that’s shaded in shrubs and trees. The golf cart squeaked the whole time and Carlos almost ruined his own orgasm thinking someone else’s cart was starting to crest over the hill but you did it. Slightly awkward and dazed after, you still got it done. It seemed to spark a frenzy in him though, he was behind you coaching you through every swing. When, normally, he likes to throw you into the deep end and gleefully watch you struggle. It’s one memory he and his imagination rely on heavily when he’s away.
X. Kinky.
Not particularly kinky, more about each individual experience than wanting to recreate or dedicate certain experiences every time. Solidifies the belief that “vanilla” doesn’t have to mean boring. He’s just a partner who values a connection that feels the same and based in emotions. Sex is an expression of love for him.
XI. Bedroom aids/Toys.
He’s down to use a vibrator during sex if that’s something you’re into. He’s not really that kind of devious where he’ll suggest it or just pull it out in the moment and evaluate your reaction. He’s rational enough not to see it as a competitor and he knows you rely on it when he’s gone. So he does his best to work in tandem though when things get to the nitty gritty, sometimes he can struggle to multitask so either you need to take over and put the vibrator to the spot that feels right or he’ll toss it across the bed and focus on one thing at a time.
XII. Cum.
Again, he can last a while especially if he uses the intense mind-over-matter mentality he’s perfected from racing. He’d prefer to use condoms simply because the clean-up can be easier…But isn’t opposed to going raw.
XIII. Pleasure reciprocation.
You give head fairly equally and he will try anything you ask him to. Degradation was particularly hard from him. He’d start out good, calling you names and taunting you with his dick but after a certain point he couldn’t hold up the act any more. “I can’t do it, amor. It feels wrong, I can’t do it. “ He panted heavily in your ear after his thrusts came to a halt. But ultimately, he’s good with head. Understands the need for varaction and strong suction. Also, once he observed just how, uh, /helpful/ his nose could be…he really stepped up his game in a whole new way.
IVX. Bonus.
Though he’s not particularly loud in the bedroom, he does indulge in dirty talk but in his native Spanish. If you’re not a fluent speaker, he tries to use it as motivation to get you to learn.
When you ask what he’d just purred so sultrily in your ear, he tuts disapprovingly. “Tienes que seguir estudiando, mi amor.”
He’ll stay in Spanish the entire time, sometimes even let his native tongue bleed into whatever you’re doing after. Even acts like Spanish just feels so much better on his tongue, he can’t help that he stays in it.
One time when you’re on your knees for him, he’s particularly talkative. A soft husky tone, just between the two of you despite his empty Milano flat. He’s got one hand in your hair, keeping it out of your face as you go down on him.
“Dios–Fuck, Oh my–” It was the first time he slips between the two languages but it’s only momentary. Once his eyes came fluttering open and you pulled off him for a moment to breathe, hands taking over for a moment. “Cariño, por favor.” He sounded desperate, his free hand clutching the arm of the chair he’s seated on, hand desperately grasping at the fabric. Trying to find some semblance of reality to hold on to.
So rarely do you have him in the palm of your hand. You were smirking to yourself, looking at him with big innocent eyes and his body started to trash. He said something else in Spanish, he had said it enough times that you knew it meant he was close. In this moment, it wasn’t lost on you that his repetition of perverted lessons in Spanish might actually be paying off.
You put your mouth back over him, starting slowly again–a contrast to the firm, strong pace of your hand. Focusing on the head, you let your tongue rub against it and his hips bucked involuntarily. He says more in Spanish but you can’t really hear him. You’ve taken him back down your throat. No warning just as far as you can fit him. He’s practically howling now, Spanish words blending together you’re not sure if he’s coherent.
He didn’t last much longer, whiny and whimpering when you kept sucking after he finished. When Carlos finally breaks free, he lets out a long string of curse words–jumbled between English and Spanish.
“You okay, baby?” You ask in an innocent tone, gentle hands still fondling him. He hisses as your hand caresses his tip again. He almost looks like he might cry.
“¡Ay, carino, por favor!” He hissed, snatching your hand off his dick and reaching for his shorts from around his ankle. “Suficiente. Estoy suficiente, por favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle. Carlos, always so composed and control, fucked out and overstimulated, practically ready to jump out of his skin if you even flinched to reach out for him again. “I need time to recover.” He huffed, looking at you with stern brown eyes.
“Si, señor.” you saluted him playfully and he sighed, side eyeing you like he was debating something. Before you can ask, Carlos peeled himself out of the chair and extended his hand to help you up. Once face to face, you kissed him. Letting him taste himself on your tongue before you both went your separate ways for the day.
“I think you could use some one on one tutoring,” he tutted, looking you up and down.
“Por que?” you asked back with mock insult.
Carlos didn’t answer. Just rolled his eyes and bent to swing you over his shoulder, dragging you up to your bedroom.
#i had to abandon the formattign to get it to post everyone boo tumblr#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1blr#carlos sainz imagine
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Could I please have Nsfw alphabet B, F, K, O for Lyney?
Apparently Lyney is a fan favorite for this one!! I'm glad people think I wrote him okay!!
Lyney x Fem! Reader
TW: 18+ MDNI, body worship, cum eating, unprotected sex, finishing inside, exhibitionism, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation
B ody part - Their favorite body on themselves and on their partner
Such a thin waist, it'd be a shame to not show it off. Lyney loves his stomach, his midriff, his abdomen, whatever you prefer to call it. Such a lean build means his gorgeous body is androgynous, his soft stomach and small waist doing nothing but drawing attention. He loves to lift his shirt to tease you, to show you how soft and beautiful his skin is beneath his clothes. He wants you to grab him by the waist, to hold him there while you worship his body.
On your body though, his interest is lower. Those plush thighs of yours drive him absolutely insane. He can't help but to grab and squeeze them, to sink his fingers into the fat of them. He loves resting his head on them as you pat his head or spreading them and burying his face in their warmth. Slicking them up with his saliva and rubbing his cock between them, using the thickness of them to make himself cum and then licking it off of your flesh.
F avorite position - This goes without saying
You on top is like a work of art. He wouldn't have it any other way. He's so used to being the one putting on shows, that having you do one for him has him cumming without much resistance.
Your hands planted on his chest, your breasts bouncing, your plush thighs on top of his. If he lasts even more than a minute inside you like this, you know something's wrong. All you have to do is sink down onto his cock on top of him, and he's singing out words of praise, telling you how close he is to filling you up and how beautiful you are. Truly a sight to behold.
K ink - One or more of their kinks
An exhibitionist at heart, he loves to be seen, that's with or without you of course. If you're watching he's satisfied, and if he's pounding into you from behind, making you go dumb on his cock, he wouldn't mind a few eyes on him as well. Knowing that someone is seeing him perform gets him going, it makes him fuck you harder and faster, makes him cum quicker but still keep going.
He loves the act of strip teasing. Taking off all your clothes at once is so boring, isn't it? Make it slow. Sensual. He wants to eye up each individual piece of flesh that is exposed after the clothing is removed, he wants to take you in slowly. And he wants to do the same to him. Praise his body as he undresses and he'll praise yours. Words of affirmation going back and forth until the both of your are so desperate to touch each other, that the moment you finally do, it's like animals rutting.
O ral - Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.
Always a giver he is, and he absolutely loves it. His tongue isn't only for gaining the attention of a crowd, he knows exactly what he's doing down there. Lyney can and will talk you through it, lapping at your folds, he'll tell you just how good you taste just for him, and how he'll keep tasting until you can only say his name.
He loves to eat while you're sitting on his face, thighs on his head and the weight of your body comforting him. Lyney loves the way your cunt drips down into his mouth. Heaven is between your legs, he says, and heaven should be clenching around his tongue. He won't let you leave, no, not while he's enjoying his meal. His vice like grip on your legs is tight, keeping your there and his skillful tongue forces another orgasm from your body.
#mai<3 answers#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin lyney x reader#genshin lyney#genshin lyney smut#lyney smut#lyney x reader#lyney x reader smut#smut#mdni
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters
~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~
-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.
You are devastated.
You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.
You can’t believe John turned out that way.
Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.
You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.
You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.
Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.
Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.
You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.
“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.
“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”
“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”
“No?”
“No. I think you have a mean streak.”
He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.
God, are you really such a fool?
“Doesn't everyone?”
You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound.
“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”
“Like last night? I didn't like that.”
The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?
“Yes you did.”
“Not the last part.”
“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”
In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.
“My fanny.”
He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.
You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.
“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.
How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?
“Why did you leave me, like that?”
You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.
“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.
Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.
“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”
“No.”
“Disobeying you did.”
“Yes.”
“That’s kinda fucked up.”
“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”
“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.
“Yes, you, kitten.”
The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue.
“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?”
“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”
He was a little more than that, you reckoned.
“You want to control me.”
“That’s part of it.”
“Why?”
He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”
You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”
You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”
He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.
The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.
You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.
“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”
The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”
Your heart drops to your feet.
“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.
That was in Rome, after all.
What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…
“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”
“I’ve been protecting you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”
You frown at this.
“So…you think I’m stupid?”
“No, of course not.”
“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”
“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”
The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.
For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.
“How do you know about the monsters, John?”
“I just know.”
“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”
He glares at you, which you take as a no.
“Interpol?”
You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.
“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.
“Were you in the mob?”
“Not…specifically.”
Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.
“Bratva, then.”
You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.
“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.
“Not clever enough,” you sigh.
You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.
You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.
Not with John Wick, though.
“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.
He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”
“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.
“Enjoying this?”
“A little.”
“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”
He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.
The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.
Well, fuck.
“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”
“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.
“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”
He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.
“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”
“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.
“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.
You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.
That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.
However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.
“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.
When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.
“Holy fuck.”
“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.
Utterly horrified, you run.
“Y/n, wait!”
You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.
It’s not fast enough.
When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.
Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.
“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”
Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.
#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick x you#john wick x y/n#keanu reeves x reader#bittersweet john wick imagine#yandere john wick#john wick fic#congrats you fought john wick and lived!#i love you allllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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