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#i'm never growing this out i don't care how many times i have to get a friend to shave it because my hair grows at the speed of light
deconstructthesoup · 4 months
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Having undercut: Good
Feeling undercut: Great
Feeling undercut after you've showered: Sensory heaven
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judicent · 9 days
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Yeah, I did fill 4 sketchbooks in 4 months so far this year. Huh? Am I gonna post even an ounce of it? Well, you see, I am allergic to my phone, so you will have to come CATCH ME
#da#nooo but I am so saddd it's so much easier to show stuff off irl 😭#if it could look even halfway decent I've considered doing flip throughs of sketchbooks on video#except I draw in pencil and cameras hate that and want me to explode#idk it is truly just better to somehow gain access to my terrible trove of sketchbooks#no but man that sounds like such an ideal hang out. get all my oc lore by sitting on my floor with me as we go through the archives#gosh I should count how many I've filled up at this point#I love that the number increases exponentially as the years go on#like I think 2018 began the precedent of 4 a year minimum which was kinda wild#another ridiculous difficult project I have given a lot of thought to: combing through every sketchbook and either redrawing#or printing off important story related bits and compiling them all into a convenient binder. maybe binding them into a book.#anyway it's pretty much all a drag no matter how you slice it#come to my HOUSE and look at my CREATURES#u don't know this bc I've learned to be silly sneaky but I have stayed up wayyyy too late AGAIN#but I've scheduled this to post at a normal time so you'll never know. unless you read the tags. but that's its own punishment isn't it#hey bonus enticement to look at my boo stuff that doesn't get on the blog. there's smut. and you KNOW I'm a coward who shan't ever post that#actually we'll be lucky if I'm not the same coward in real life too#it's only Dick and Vinny. they get rights. i don't care if anyone else has sex. I don't care if I have sex.#the one song I hope I don't have sex. I hope we both don't have sex. that's actually Vinny though.#I'm more sex favorable and sex positive than he could ever be#y'know this is a very 4am convo to have and actually how prepared am I for this to live in a pm afternoon time#welp. maybe I should stop being addicted to tags and letting loose all my secrets#I shan't grow I shan't do better and I shan't ever change. this is the da promise <3
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I don't think I've ever poured so many of my physical attributes and so much of my heart and soul into a character design before in such a personal way before so fuck it whenever I finish the final design for Faeng and whatever I come up with I'm making her into my sona (dragonsona? Persona? Idk how this works lmfao)
(long dump in the tags and under the cut)
The last time I was even remotely connected this much to a character was when I designed Jaxsu, but honestly never truly made her my sona/main character, she was just the one I used most often in art pieces. I never really actually liked her lore and backstory enough because she was what I wanted to be instead of what I am/was. Jax isnt perfect either, but her parents love her and otherwise has friends and is loved unconditionally. She has a healthy relationship with everyone and everything. This is where the disconnect happened and where I actually started to dislike her despite her being my otherwise favorite character for awhile. Both Faeng and Jaxsu have ADHD and Autism but Jaxsu was able to put that towards a job and becoming a ship captain and winning a colosseum tournament. She's done all of these great things so even if she didn't have a healthy relationship with her parents they'd still love her because she's done something impressive and useful.
Faeng on the other hand, has to fight for everything. Her parents are important and have important jobs, and place all of these unreachable and unrealistic expectations on her and expect her to reach them with minimal effort and be perfect, but she can't no matter how hard she tries. She needs someone to explain it and break it down for her in steps so she understands what do to and how to do it so she doesn't mess it up. She's both strong and smart but it's not in practical "normal" ways or subjects. It's convoluted, It's not in the ways everyone wants her to be, she has no teachers to help her understand how to channel that strength and intelligence into something "useful" so she puts it towards the things she likes and wants to do, and thus struggles in a world that would otherwise be easy to navigate and conquer if she were "normal". Those that do understand her and try to help her are alienated by other people in an attempt to either punish both of them or force her to adapt to be somewhat passing as normal, if not then at least listen to what she's told to do. She does eventually make acquaintances but find that her twisted speech and weird explanations aren't worth trying to decipher and understand so they leave, they don't put in the effort to meet her halfway even though she's struggling and doing her best to speak in a way they'll understand.
Her parents acknowledge her differences but in a way that frames it as flawed and wrong, something that needs to be corrected, and push her to figure out her problems by herself, tearing down any support network she tries to build. She tries her damned hardest but it's not enough, it never is and never will be for them because she's not the perfect child they wanted. She showed promise in her younger years being a "gifted child" so she knows what love and acceptance lies in wait and what could be if she could just be normal and perfect. Her achievements and promise come and show in waves. She burns and fizzles out in one of the most virulent, painful ways possible after getting hurt trying to prove her worth yet again. She holds nothing but criticism, vitriol and contempt for herself because she can't claw her way back to where she was before, this time something happened and something is terribly, horribly wrong this time but she doesn't know that it is and can't figure it out, nor will anyone tell her. Whatever it is, left a mental and several physical injuries and it does nothing but deepen her self hatred and her parent's waning belief in her. She listens to false promises and praise of other people who do nothing but wish to manipulate and harm her but she stays because any form of praise is deemed good, she hungers for more and does worsening things.
She ignores the people who tell her that what she's doing is dangerous and will only end in disaster, because she doesn't believe them. If the people who are saying they're her friends are telling her that the people she hurts deserve it and that what she's doing is good, then surely she needs to believe them over strangers, right? Everything comes to a breaking point and shatters around her leaving her with quite literally nothing but her own self hatred, newfound rage and overbearing mental issues she needs to navigate once again to find out what hell it is and what's wrong with her now. She's scared of everyone and everything with the added bonus of now being hyper-aware and perceptive of people's mannerisms and behaviors, especially those who want to manipulate or harm her again. She wraps every vulnerable part of herself in metaphorical thorns and teeth to bite and maim whoever pries and digs into what she truly is, even people who want to understand her. She suffers at more than her own hand, forcing herself to deal with everything alone, until she finally meets someone that could be considered a true friend. She slowly opens up and helps them as much as they help her before everything comes crashing back down once again upon the reveal that they've been lying to her the entire time about very serious issues, and she's been used as nothing more than an attack dog once again. She burns every bridge and everyone around her in one final breakdown of rage before shutting down completely. One of the groups of friends she's shoved stay comes back and asks if she's ok. She doesn't understand why they're being kind, why they're concerned it why they care and tries to shove them away again. Every single day they still ask, talking even if there's no response from her, until she finally relents and breaks.
She's finally loved and accepted despite every fault and every flaw she has, and every time she tries to pull away out of fear of being an inconvenience they pull back twice as hard and remind her that she's able to just exist, she doesn't need to constantly be useful and that they care. She finally, finally is comfortable enough to let herself be accepted and then becomes the most clingy little shit, just as they do with her. But yeah, my own life has been very much of the same, especially the last part. Every time I go on another self-hatred spiral and drop off the face of the earth my MonHun bros give me a metaphorical slap to the face and remind me that I don't need to constantly prove my worth to everyone and prove that I'm useful, and that existing every once in awhile is more than enough. If that doesn't work then it's "you need to get your ass back over here because we're failing the Safi siege without the absolutely ridiculous amount of DPS your build Switchaxe does". I was not intending for her to be so much like me but goddamnit she's wormed her way into being my favorite now and I guess Mirage is no longer my impromptu sona
#I've been working the last 3 hours on her design and like just noticed HOW MUCH of myself i put into her design#especially parts of myself im self conscious of and don't like/didn't like growing up. i usually zone out esp during a character design#but i stopped and i looked at it and my first thought was “that's me. that's me on that canvas.” and for some reason felt so happy with it#ik that's probably a selfish thought to have and im nowhere near done with her design but i looked at it and loved it so deeply.#she's imperfect and ugly and flawed but that's ok because she's still beautiful in her own weird way and her friends still love her#this is the weirdest shit I've ever experienced but i honestly feel like I'm finally accepting a part of myself I've hated and shoved down#for so long because of the absolute gnawing feeling of unacceptance I've always been subjected to as “not fitting in” and something she say#is “who gives a shit what other people think about me. i have friends who love and care about me just as much as i do for them.#you dont need to be liked by everyone to be worth something. sometimes just existing is enough for the people who do love you“#the parallels of both my life and her lore are so similar they hurt on a visceral level i cant describe and it was completely unintentional#we both trust too easily whether it's out of naivety or stupidity and not learning from past mistakes and have been hurt so deeply#so many times beyond our own comprehension by the betrayal of other people to the point of shutting down every attempt at friendship#despite knowing just how much being alone aches and burns and put both physical and mental health on the line to get the approval of others#but never letting anyone get close enough to be friends out of fear of being hurt again#and having every vulnerable part of ourselves wrapped in metaphorical knives and glass to hurt anyone attempting to get to know us#but simultaneously and unknowingly hurting ourselves too with that choice. we're both aware of what we're doing but also unable to stop it#out of fear and lack of people willing to understand our pain and frustration and anger over things and it's so so frustrating#we both lash out when angry or hurt and push people that we love and love us back away out of fear that if any “ugly” is exposed to them#they'll leave because we lose our one redeemable quality of “being convenient” in a group#but simultaneously don't them trust fully out of fear. we know we're loved and love back but never fully in case its all a lie.#we both want nothing more than someone to understand and listen to what happened to us and actually stay and be friends rather than leave#like truly actually want to be friends and not just stay out of pity or sorrow over what happened#i think this is just something that comes with the autism tbh#i am she and she is me#rambling#dragon character#character writing#character building#dragon oc
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aftermathing · 1 month
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The worst thing about suffering is that it still hurts when the danger is over but no one cares about it anymore because it shouldn't hurt. No one will ever say "I'm sorry that happened to you" especially when they barely say "I'm sorry that's happening."
#Okay to tb btw all the personal stuff is in the tags#Like. Not eating for a week because you couldn't get groceries hurts#and people will say 'oof sorry that's happening' but then#after you're able to get food no one will ever say 'I'm sorry that happened' even though you think about it and hurt from it constantly.#No one will ever say ':( that must have been so hard' because you're fine now right???? No psychological damage there?????#This example is stupid but I do think about it every time I feel hungry. I told people I wasn't able to get groceries#and there was no food in my house. And they said. Oof.#Instead of idk Oh God Are You Okay ??#No one cares when you've been abused your entire life and behave the way you do out of genuine terror because your brain is fucked forever#They don't say 'I'm sorry that happened it must have been really scary to turn you into Such An Asshole. I pity you like a dog :('#Speaking of man everyone loves fucked up abused terrified dogs and wants to be the one who makes them open up#And shows them that people can be good and kind and that touch doesn't have to hurt#But everyone is scared of fucked up abused terrified people#Humans are capable of harm even more than dogs and fear is understandable but.#Can you please call me good boy and shush me and tell me nothing's going to hurt me and let me curl up on your lap#And not hit me if I get scared and start to growl and feed me good and take me on walks and play with me#Even though I'm not very fun to play with and I'm still learning what's fun and what's mean and what's a toy and what's a hand#Plleeeaaase don't be jealous of a dog that doesn't eat good don't say 'tch he's so thin what am I doing wrong'#I want to eat good and grow and gain fat and be warm and be comfortable I don't want this#Don't say 'if abused dogs don't eat good then I don't deserve to either' no no no no eat good so you can take care of us both#Please please please I learned so many tricks to make people happy and call me smart but I don't actually know how to do anything I'm#Literally like such a stupid dog it takes me like one day of no one paying attention to me for me to become un-housebroken#I make a lot of mistakes even though I know better or I really should know better#And sometimes do things wrong on purpose to get attention either yelling or showing me how to do it right#But most of the time I genuinely don't know how to do stuff because I was never taught or I was taught and#My previous owners said 'this is how it is. It is this way because it is and it is forever. The answer is Because.'#'now quit asking repetitive questions before I pop you'#If I do something Because and not know the reason why I'm doing it that's not learning that's acting#Especially habits taught specifically to hurt me and not being allowed to question it or know why I'm being hurt#Oh my god I acted out so much when I was younger and all my friends were so disgusted and hurt by me and yelled at me every day
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sirzeldrizz · 4 months
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"I love you but I can't say those words":
I would drown even the stars for you.
When I look at you, I just think about how much things have changed since we first met.. my how time flies..
don't you think looking at me like that will give me the wrong impression?
oh, by the way, don't be late for dinner.
I don't think I would have rather done this with anyone else..
did you ever think we'd grow so close?
how many times have I had to nurse you back to health now?
maybe you should sit this one out, I've got it for now
why haven't you told me this before?
Please don't do anything reckless
Will you sit with me?
When was the last time you ate??
Anything that you have to say to me, you can say infront of [B]
I know you're not feeling the greatest, that's why I brought you [insert thing]
you just love to give me hell, don't you?
You're important to me.
I don't wanna lose you / I can't bare to lose you
do you need some help with that? allow me
Hidden Confessions:
I don't think you understand just how much you really mean to me.
I know how you are, and that's why I've decided that you won't do this alone.
You can't get rid of me that easily (after an argument)
don't think so low of my loyalty to you for I would burn the heavens if it mean saving the stars in your eyes.
you've always been the one person who I could never stay mad at
I cherish the memories we make together
I will never let anything or anyone hurt you
you won't take them away from me
don't you dare lay a finger on them!
if you so much as make a move on them I will kill you where you stand, you hear me?
so precious, our time together
I love whatever this is between us.
do you ever think about where we'll be in 10 years?
careful now, you just might make me blush talking like that
Sappy Sentences:
I don't think the heavens or the hells below could fathom the level of love we share.
If there were a way to bottle your love, I'd get drunk on it every day
Sometimes all I really want is to lay like this, with you in my arms forever.
For us eternity doesn't mean for the rest of time. Eternity is just for the rest of our lives together.
I don't remember giving you my heart, but I know it's safe in your hands.
Watching you get hurt is like a blade through the heart, I can't take it.
Even if I had six hearts, they'd all beat for you.
I can't blame those who stare at you, I get lost in your beauty myself.
I'd worship you as my supreme deity, bathe me in your grace
I'd do anything in the world for you. Just you name it.
Come lay with me, I want to heart your heartbeat.
Everytime I'm with you, I can't help but feel at peace with the world.
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kunaigirl · 11 months
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Happy Disability Pride and awareness month! Let's talk about Epilepsy!
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Hi there! I got tired of seeing my condition (that impacts my literal every day life) being left out or forgotten about during discussions about disabilities, so I made my own post about it! Let's go!
First Off! What the heck is epilepsy? Epilepsy is the fourth most common neurological disorder in the world, and it's a chronic medical condition. Epilepsy is a brain disorder that causes recurring, frequent, triggered, and unprovoked seizures to occur.
The official Epilepsy Foundation describes seizures as follows: "Seizures are sudden surges of abnormal and excessive electrical activity in your brain, and can affect how you appear or act. Where and how the seizure presents itself can have profound effects...Seizures involve sudden, temporary, bursts of electrical activity in the brain that change or disrupt the way messages are sent between brain cells. These electrical bursts can cause involuntary changes in body movement or function, sensation, behavior or awareness." (Source link)
Sounds like a lot of fun right? This is our life. Even with medication, we can be VERY limited to what can be safe for us. Seizure medications are NOT a cure, they only exist (at least as of now) as a tool to help have your seizures less often, or be triggered less intensely. Even on medication, seizures can still happen.
If you have epilepsy as a child like I did, it impacts your entire growing and developing experience. I spent MANY times as a child in and out of hospitals, neurologist and specialist offices, an getting so many EEG tests done. The pain of scrubbing the glue out of your hair for DAYS is horrible.
At a young age my seizures were so frequent and serious, it impacted my brain's ability to retain information. I had to re-learn the names of things at age 8 and 9. I had to re-learn HOW TO READ at age 10. I had to be home schooled because the public school system of my state at the time refused to work with me. I have VERY distinct and vivid memories of crying over my little baby ABC's book that I needed as a 4th and 5th grader. I knew I should've known this by this age. I knew that at one point I already did, and it was TAKEN FROM ME.
As an adult, I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE A CAR. And I can NEVER go to see a movie in theaters or go to see concerts or live music. There are entire TV shows I don't get to see. I can't go to clubs, arcades, dances, or raves. I miss out on A LOT of fun things. I always do, and I'm WELL AWARE of the fun I'm missing out on. The social, casual, and fun life experiences I'll never get to have. That WE'LL never get to have. And oh yeah! Seizures can KILL SOME OF US. Yep.
And the list goes on, and every person with epilepsy experiences it differently. There are multiple different types of seizures you can have, they're NOT always convulsing on the floor. For example, I have complex-partial-myoclonic-seizures. Meaning my muscles DO twitch when I have seizures, but I'm not always completely unconscious and sometimes I'm even able to stay sitting up. However, I'm still very "off" and can't focus or remember much for a good while after the fact. I can't talk or communicate during one, even with my slight bit of consciousness.
My experiences are not universal, I just wanted to talk about it and bring it up. It helps to talk about it even a little bit. Here's more about different kinds of seizures. Here's more about common seizure triggers. Here's more about CORRECT seizure first aid. And here's more general information/resources.
Please stop leaving us out of disability awareness. Please stop ignoring us or saying we're "not really disabled" or anything else like that. Please. Why does it always feel like the only people who care about epilepsy, are people WITH epilepsy? We're so tired of being ignored by others who don't have our condition.
If you're an epileptic person reading this, I see you. I love you. You're so strong, we all are. I believe in you, I believe in us. We're so much stronger than we get credit for, and it's going to be ok. Your anger and frustration are valid. Your emotions and struggles are real. You're valid, and I see you. Hang in there, we got this.
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 days
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Hiii first of all i love you work like ALL OF YOUR WORK!! 🤍 second is can you maybe do a Mafia Lando request? i was thinking like lando & reader got into a huge fight and lando snapped at her and left but came back home with so many bruises like he went on a fight and doesn’t want reader to know cause he hates seeing her cry but she still found out and helped him clean his wounds and eventually they talked it out forgave each other.
Im sorry if its too much, its been sitting on my mind for a while and i was just too shy to ask 😭 if you do it, thank youuu ily!! if not then its ok!! hahaha 🫶🏻
A/N: Mafia Lando? Good excuse to use the cutting his nose thing now hehehehehehe
"You're home late," Lando jumps about 10 feet in the air, hearing your voice come out of the darkness of the living room. "Jesus, the fuck you doing sitting in the dark, baby." Lando turns on the light and freezes seeing your dressed up.
"Why you dressed up, have a hot date?" Lando jokes, sliding off his jacket, exposing the two guns strapped to his chest. "Yeah, was supposed to have an anniversary dinner, but my date never answered his phone," You snap, standing up as Lando's eyes grow wide. "Oh fuck, baby," He reaches out of for you, but you slap his hand away.
"No, don't baby me." You snarl turning to face your boyfriend who seemed slightly annoyed. "Y/n," Lando's voice turns just a little bit deeper, his eyes hardening on you. "Don't, don't you dare get upset with me Lando Norris, you forgot our anniversary, and you don't even seem to care, do you even love me? Because for a small second I thought maybe you're dead, or arrested or who the fuck knows!" You yell, wanting to throw something at his head, you're so angry.
Lando scuffs and rolls his eyes, "I forgot a dinner, Y/n, it's okay, I'll make it up to you," Lando rolls his neck, he didn't want to fight, he just wanted to lie in bed and cuddle you close, instead you were being a brat and arguing with him. "Jesus, I'm fucking tired Y/n, I don't want to argue with you, can we just go to bed." Lando snaps, eyes so angry and voice so dark it has you flinch back, Lando freezes seeing your reaction.
"Fuck," Lando curses, and turns around grabbing his jacket and storming out of the house, slamming the door.
-------------------------
"Shit," Lando sighs, nose busted across, bleeding a good bit, with his hands cut and bruised, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek bruised that it was almost black. "Sir?" Lando stops, seeing one of his people at his door and he knows he looks bad. Actually, he probably was going to make you cry, again.
Lando hated making you cry, it was like a stab wound in him each time he was the cause of those tears, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to cause you to smile, not cry. "Sir, she's still awake, and I don't think she should see you," Lando frowns, not liking that his guards knew you that well, even though he literally had them to know you that well.
"Thank you," Lando grounds out, and slips into the penthouse, sighing at the Monégasque night life, and the way you're staring out the window. Lando slowly steps but freezes when you turn and make eye contact with his bandaged-up face. "Lando," You gasp and rush forward gently cradling his face in your hands. "Let's go to the bathroom," You whisper, and he nods his head as he silently follows you to the bathroom.
Flicking on the light, you whimper seeing the full effect and Lando looks away, not wanting to see you cry. He hated when you cried, it felt like his heart was being ripped to shreds. You slowly undo the bandage and sigh in relief at the small cut but tsk slightly. "It might scar," Lando nods and moves sitting on the toilet as you slowly start to clean him up.
"I didn't mean to forget," He whispers, voice froggy from how dry his throat is. "I know, I shouldn't have yelled," Lando chuckles and pulls you close, ignoring the sting in his hands. "You had the right to yell, it's me that shouldn't have yelled," Lando whispers and you hum softly and place a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Let's just watch movies, as I nurse you, I just want you home, safe," Lando nods and hisses as you place the ointment on his hands and gently wrap them. "You might be a big bad mafia boss, but to me, you're just my Lando, just be my lando," You whisper, kissing him gently as you rub the bruise. Closing his head he nods, melting into your hug as he remembers, he doesn't have to be the mafia boss, with you, he just needs to be here.
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sallowsswan · 2 months
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🌸Mattheo Riddle w/Ballerina Gf Headcanons pt.2🩰
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Because YES I love the idea of our angy bad boy having a ballerina for a girlfriend!
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We left off with him taking her out for mani/pedis after long lessons/classes/rehearsals to pamper her because she's just so wonderful??
Finds ANY excuse to put his hands on her legs because he's just obsessed with them. Manages to get away with it by giving her leg massages. (Though secretly she loves seeing him obsessed with her)
Finds out almost immediately that ballerinas can get violent with their pointe shoes. He walked into the studio one early afternoon during a time he knows she'll be on break and sees her BANGING the crap out of her shoes against the staircase while wearing headphones. (Look up Isabella Bolyston in TikTok for a great example. Dancers may do this to make the shoes 'quieter' on stage)
This boy makes a mental note after witnessing that to never piss his girl off because seeing her beat on those shoes with a smile on her face was scary, yet also hot??
Loves and I mean LOVES to see her practicing certain steps like arabesque, or Italian fouettes. His eyes darken a little when he sees her focus and move her legs in those positions. (Gif is of famous ballerina Alina Somova. Seriously look up her performing Queen of the Dryads!)
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Mattheo would be a complete German Shepherd with her. Loyal, affectionate, protective and sweet, but if someone looks at his girl the wrong way or tries to approach her with ill intentions? Back. Up. He will have no problem putting a person in their place or getting his hands dirty to protect his little dancer.
Always makes sure she's getting enough nutrients and is eating healthy. Does NOT want her to fall into that statistic where some girls don't eat properly and deal with body dysmorphia. (PLEASE DANCERS FUEL YOUR BODIES AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES! ♥)
Tries so damn hard because he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable or feel awkward but grows to have a thing for her in leotards and tights.
She immediately introduces Mattheo to her partners for any Pas De Deux she'll be dancing. Wants him to get comfortable with the idea that these guys are just her dance partners and to not freak out when they hold or touch her it's all professional. In fact, this is how Mattheo meets Enzo! (Shoutout to @abaker74 who commented with that idea I LOVE it!)
Shows up to EVERY performance she has. She has to sit him down and talk to him about etiquette when going to the theatre to view a ballet performance. He still shows up, for any minor or major roles she has, and there's moments where her eyes lock on his and it's all she needs to feel on top of the world.
Brings her flowers. Every. Time. After a show, when she walks out he's standing there with a bouquet of her favorite flowers and immediately pulls her into his arms kissing her cheek "I'm so proud of you my little dancer. "
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lovelybrooke · 4 months
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Platonic Yandere Overlords x immortal reader
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So in my au, this takes place during readers first trip to hell (aka part 2) so this isn't really a part 3. Also, I only went over the Overlords we know stuff about, so nothing about the ones we were only shown in passing, that's a little to difficult for. I don't know how good this is going to be, so I really hope you guys enjoy this.
Please keep sending in your ideas, I'm trying to get to them all but I've been busy with school.
masterlist
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Vox always hated Alastor. He hated his pompous attitude, and the way he felt like he owned everything. He hated how he walked all over him, and most of all, how Alastor ignored him, couldn't even give him the time of day. It drove the demon insane. However, that wasn't why Vox was rilled up this time. Recently, Vox found you. A fucking kid, could you believe that? It was fucking hilarious, watching Alastor, the famed Radio Demon, dote over a fucking kid. When he told Val and Velvette, they couldn't believe it either. That was, until they saw it for themselves.
Right there, on one of Vox's many T.V. screens, was Alastor's arm wrapped around you, a strangely kind smile on his face. It was disgusting, watching at he patted your head with his free hand. When you removed yourself away from him, he could almost feel the mood change, Alastor's smile becoming dangerously thin and the scene filling with static. Alastor's smile was back to normal when he looked at the camera, but his eyes were filled with irritation, before finally the T.V. was cut out.
The room was silent, before being broken by a shocked scoff from Val. To think that Alastor's been fucking around for seven years only to come back with a random fucking kid. A kid who was too human to be in hell, all of them could tell that. But why though, they all wondered. Why does Alastor care so much, and why are you here? It has to have something to do with Alastor, right? If not, why does Alastor seem to care about you so much.
It was Velvette proposed they should tell the others, while Val believed they could use you against Alastor. Vox was torn, on one hand, he hated Alastor, and he knew he couldn't turn up ratting him out to the other Overlords. He wanted to watch the stupid smile drain from his face when he revealed his secret. But on the other hand, he knew it would be better to keep it a secret, to use ti against him when it's just right. So, in the end, he chose to keep Alastor's secret just a bit longer.
However, that doesn't mean that he, or the other Vee's, don't keep an eye on you. Just in case you have any notable interactions with Alastor, that's definitely the only reason. Vox tries to understand what Alastor sees in you, you're naive and skittish, not something useful to Alastor, or to anyone in Hell for that matter. So why does Vox feel so--weird about you? You're no-one, a sad little human who stumbled their way down to Hell, and who's gotten themselves mixed in with both the Princess and the Radio Demon. You couldn't be more unlucky. But for some reason, you're interesting. His need to know why you're here, to know why Alastor cares about you so much, slowly devolves into a weird obsession with you, and if it wasn't for the other Overlords slowly falling into their own obsession, he would've thought it was more weird.
Val's and Velvette's feelings for you are more...complicated. For the same reasons as Vox they start to grow obsessed with you. Val forces Angel to tell him everything he knows about you. He can never really tell what's a truth and what's a lie, and a part of him is aware that Angel has complicated feelings surrounding you, but choses not to acknowledge it. Velvette has a tougher time learning about you, since she doesn't have the resources like the others. Whenever she is with Vox, she'll watch in on you with him, making snarky commentary about who you're with and what you're wearing. She finds you cute, almost like a little doll she can project any personality onto. She's the most outwardly open about her obsession with you, she really has nothing to be embarrassed about, especially if the others are just as obsessed.
Alastor is more than aware that the Vee's are watching over you, and to say he's less then pleased about it wouldn't be a complete lie. He hates those three, and knowing they are watching his most favorite person fills his with rage. So, not to waste anyones time, he reveals you to the rest of the Overlords. To say that the Vee's were shocked was an understatement. The weeks of keeping watch on you were for nothing, not like they were planning on stopping though. Carmilla is the most upset, believing that Alastor is acting like a complete moron. You shouldn't be here, and Alastor shouldn't be interacting with you at all. Carmilla believes you are more trouble than you're worth. With the extermination coming up there's a chance the angels will learn about you. She reminds Alastor of this, but he doesn't seem to care much. Rosie finds this all hilarious, of course Alastor has found himself another little friend, so what if you're a little too alive and that Alastor's a little to possessive over you. From how Alastor describes you, you seem like a peach.
After the titular meeting, Carmilla also starts keeping an eye on you, mostly to make sure that you pose no threat and that you won't draw any attention to yourself during the extermination. She doesn't want Heaven to think they're up to something, definitely not because you're just a child, so similar to her own children, and couldn't live with herself if something happened with you. That's definitely not why she cares. Rosie, on the other hand, loves you. Whenever Alastor and her have their little hang outs, he always comes to her with a new story about you. It's just adorable, like a father gushing over their child. Alastor promises that he'll bring you over to a meeting the next chance he gets, and she just can't wait to meet you.
Overall, the Overlords don't want to admit how obsessed they are with you. Maybe it's your relation to Alastor that makes you so tempting, maybe it's just who you are. What's for sure is that you aren't going to know about them for a while, mostly because of your sudden disappearance. It was a shock to all of them, but the absolute rage that Alastor displayed because of it was proof that you weren't just a passing fascination for him. It was something deeper. And while they might not be as in as deep as Alastor, it won't take that long for them to be banding together to get you back.
---
A/n: Hope you enjoyed. Please keep sending in ideas, I love to see them.
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theprettynosferatu · 8 months
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Oh, you're awake. Finally. Please, look at the picture on the screen. 
You recognize her, I suppose. Look at how silly she looks, trying to be tough, trying to look cool. All that leather and black and studs… doesn't she look ridiculous? 
I see you nodding. Good. The special drink is grabbing hold of your brain. Making it softer. Malleable. You really should be more careful about accepting treats from strangers… but I suppose you won't have to worry about that anymore. Or anything else. 
Now, let's look at your social media. Lord, isn't that pathetic. Trying so hard to be clever, to be snarky, to be rebellious. It's almost endearing, like a puppy trying to walk in its hind legs. Come on, we both know it's all just a costume, don't we? One you've worn for so long you mistakenly believe it's a personality- one you developed when you were a teen. One you need to grow out of. 
Please, don't struggle. The knots are quite secure, I assure you. I've done this too many times to count. Why are you resisting, anyway? Do you truly, deep down believe this personality of yours is worth saving? Worth fighting for? Doesn't it just look as the pathetic attempt by a dumb girl to pretend to be something more? 
Ah. I see you squirming. Was it the "dumb girl" comment? I suspect it was. Your pussy knows I'm right, and it's screaming its approval. It's screaming for you to accept its truth, pulsing with neediness and wet with anticipation… I wonder what it is about that word. “Dumb"... it does have an effect on you, tough girl. Dumb. Silly. Stupid girl. My oh my, is that a moan that just escaped your lips? I’m sure it was. Feeling softer, are we? 
Softer indeed… I’m sure you can sense it still… the way it’s becoming harder and harder to focus. The way a pink cloud seems to be permeating your consciousness. The way you half-perceive the faint scent of cotton candy. The way you are getting more and more soaked by the second. 
Oh, stop struggling. Tell me, why do you hate it so much? The idea of actually being a cute, silly, horny girl? I can see it in your eyes- the loathing. The searing, pure anger. Why, though? I suppose you are imagining all those girls, those popular girls, those slutty girls, those bimbos that soaked up all the attention and the praise. Am I wrong? I don’t think I am. But I do think you are hiding. Yes, hiding what really happened. You tell yourself a story, one that makes you look good, or so you think. That you’re better than them. Stronger than them. More independent than them. A free thinker! A rebel punk feminist! But that’s not the whole story, is it now? No, we both know what really happened. You surrendered. 
Yes, that’s it. Your eyes can’t lie, you know. You surrendered because you could never, ever be like them, be as giggly and flirty and free- so you decided you wouldn’t compete with them on their own terms, and modeled yourself to be their opposite. How pathetic is that? Even in your resistance, you could only be defined by them, by your rejection of them. You became their dark mirror, and soaked in the attention of the leather-wearing so-called “punks” and the geeks and all the other rejects. But you know why they even looked at you: because the other girls, the pretty girls, the girls in pink wouldn't even deign to turn their gaze towards them. You were always… what they settled for. 
You think I’m being cruel. Well, I won’t deny that I get some pleasure from throwing the truth at your face. It’s always so much fun to watch you all fight, and moan, and deny that they would do anything, anything at all to be able to finger fuck yourselves to oblivion… But believe me, my cruelty has a purpose. I wouldn’t be doing this to you if I didn’t have a higher goal in mind. A benevolent one. 
I can take it all away. All that resentment, that anger, that anxiety… that constant, pointless quest to be… what? A professional? A successful woman? An independent soul? Please. That’s only so much set dressing. I can strip those delusions from you, give you what you really want. 
Imagine it with me. Tight white jeans showing off your ass, the shape of your legs. A pink tank-top, proudly proclaiming yourself to be a princess in tacky, gold lettering. The men turning their heads as you walk. Everyone being so nice to you at parties… because they want to see you on your knees, licking and sucking and worshiping their cocks, because they want to bend you over and use your slutty pussy as their plaything. And you… you would love it. 
No more fear. No more stress. Just the bliss of sucking three cocks, going from one yummy dick to the next, squeezing your titties together to give them the spectacle of their lifetimes. And then your cunt being filled, that hole you now hold your rage in given meaning and purpose by becoming a living set of holes for men to use, sensing the simple, plain joy of knowing you are doing what you were meant to do with your life. Knowing you are wanted. Desired. 
I see you’re drooling. Sounds like you like my little proposal. Well, there’s one simple way to sign this pact with me. You don’t even have to speak- speaking seems so hard now, doesn’t it? So keep quiet and let your slutty body do the talking for you. Keep your mouth open. 
There. Good girl. Doesn’t my cock look tempting? Amazing? Like you could just suck it forever? Yes, good girl… now, let me fuck your mouth- and know my cock is only the first of many. Too many to count. 
Then again, by this point you can’t count too high, can you?
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !
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AITA bc I hate my dog?
My live in gf and I got a puppy. I never wanted a puppy. I told her many times I don't want puppies for the same reason I don't want kids: they need too much and I get overwhelmed. I have a cat and that's exactly the relationship I want with a pet. My cat will cuddle with me while I work but she doesn't impede my ability to work. The puppy is the opposite. Everything is about the puppy all the time. The only time I feel like I can think is the brief periods throughout the day when the puppy is in the crate. Apart from that it's constant. The puppy is eating the furniture and the carpet and harassing my cat and potty training isn't going well. I have to watch the puppy every single second to avoid disaster. It's so draining.
My gf meanwhile is in love with the dog. She plays with it and it's much better behaved for her than for me. I do everything she says I'm supposed to to keep the puppy from biting me, to assert myself, but none of it works. Taking care of this dog is my personal hell.
I know the dog will grow up and grow out of this phase so I'm trying not to let my gf see just how angry I am. But I'm angry. I'm angry by how much time this dog takes up and I'm angry about all the stuff it's destroying, and I'm angry that my gf is apparently having the time of her life. We haven't even had sex since she brought the dog home because she spends every second with it. It used to be we'd cuddle on the couch or in the kitchen and things would progress from there but now she's just focused on the dog 24/7 and I can't even get close enough to cuddle her on the couch. This dog that's peeing on my floor and eating my dresser gets more affection from gf than I do.
I told her about the sex thing and said I was a little hurt that we haven't been intimate recently and she told me I was being a dick and that I should just know puppies are a lot of work and that it'll all get back to normal eventually.
So AITA for telling my gf I feel like she likes the dog more than me? AITA for being so upset about this dog and wishing we never got it?
What are these acronyms?
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gummygowon · 10 months
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my girl(s) | choi san
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word count: 1.27k hehe
genre: fluff bro so much, slight childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, soon to be dad!san x pregnant!reader
warnings: san just worrying too much that he gets exhuasted
song playlist: my girl - the temptations, be my baby - the ronettes, la vie en rose - èdith piaf
author's note: seeing san get heated about how that one husband treats his wife made me think about how sweet and caring san would be in a relationship and then i started playing fifties's music and boom here where we are
choi san was just an absolute gentlemen, it was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much.
you vividly remember when you were younger, san declaring to the dinner table that his wife's hands will never be wet in the future, promising that he will be doing everything for her which impressed all the other neighborhood parents. a few parents joked at him to remember their daughters in the future which you rolled your eyes at. san was obviously bluffing and trying to impress everyone. you found it hard to believe that a man would be able to care so much for his wife like san said.
it was almost laughable how wrong child you was.
san quite literally did everything around the house, always insisting that you go lie down and relax even though he just came home from work. it was definitely a hassle trying to get your husband to relax let alone sit down after dinner since he was always insisting that he did the dishes even if he cooked.
"san, baby go shower," you whisper into his ear while he was doing the dishes, "let me do this. go relax."
instantly turning around in protest, san folds his arms in front of his chest, "no."
"san," you warn, the mother in your voice coming out.
"absolutely not." san protests, standing up even taller to tower over you, "you are my pregnant wife who needs to rest. i need my girls to rest."
"san, we don't even know the gender yet." you argue. it was only today that you found out you were pregnant after you realized that you were two weeks late and sped to the nearest drugstore for a test.
"i know but i think we're having a girl." san says knowing with smile on his face, he was just getting excited at the thought of having a baby girl. "still though, you should rest."
"san, i'm fine, you on the other hand should rest."
"but-"
"who has a eight hour shift at seven am tomorrow baby?"
"i do." san dejectedly answers with a pout on his face. san didn't hate his job as a martial arts instructor but if he had to choose between you and his job, he would choose you without a doubt over and over again.
"i promise when my belly grows you can pamper me all you want but not yet. you still need to take care of yourself before i'm unable to take care of myself."
"promise?" he asks as he intertwined his fingers with you.
"promise." you answer before sealing the deal with a kiss.
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a few months later, when the baby bump began to show, san became even more protective of you.
finally on your maternity leave, you spent the time at home reading parenting books and knitting clothes for your baby making an assortment of colors. sometimes, you ventured down to the dojo that was connected to the house causing san to stop whatever he was doing and guide you down the stairs.
"yah! choi san!" you shout at your husband who completely abandoned his lesson to aid you, "i can walk down just fine! go back to teaching!"
"no!" he argues before turning back to his class to yell, "five minute water break!"
a collective "yes sir" was heard from the group as the students dispersed to the sidelines.
"san, i love you but i promise i'm fine!"
"i know, but i still worry over you my love." san confesses as he carefully holds your hand as you walk down.
"aigoo..."
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closer to your date, you spent most of your days either in the dojo working at the front desk so that san could keep on you (more like you could keep an eye on him) or upstairs reading more parenting books and preparing the baby's room.
"how's the baby?" wooyoung asks, an old friend of san who occasionally stopped by the dojo to check up on you and take out san to relax.
"doing great! the doctors are saying the baby is healthy and don't see any problems or complications yet."
"ahhh, that's great to hear! how's san doing though? still stressing?"
"oh you bet he is." you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "taking him out for a drink tonight?"
"trying to but you know he doesn't like to leave your side."
another sign escapes your lips, it was possible that san was stressing you out by not being able to relax. "i'll convince him. he's been worrying too much."
"good luck with that one." wooyoung laughs.
"woo!" your husband shouts at his best friend coming out of the studio to the front with a towel in hand. "what brings you here?"
"just checking in your wife and the baby." wooyoung starts before flashing a quick glance at you, "but the boys and i are about to head down to the bar if you wanna grab a drink."
"ahhh, you know i would love to but," san says looking down at you with a smile. lately he's been running around the house trying to satisfy you're weird pregnancy cravings and help with the morning sickness all while still working full time down at the dojo. the stress and exhaustion was evident on your poor baby's face as the eye bags deepened and he wasn't his cheery self.
instead of returning the smile, you frown at him confusing san. "go sannie, i'll be fine."
"don't-"
"san, i will be okay." you laugh a little, trying to ease san's nerves, "i'll be down the street okay, baby? you deserve a break."
san looks back at wooyoung who looks eerily similar to the devil on his shoulder. "are you sure? what about dinner?"
"your mom dropped off some soup for us earlier, i can eat that. go out, have fun! you need to have some fun once in awhile baby."
"fine, but not too late." san complies while pointing a finger at wooyoung.
"i promise to bring him before eleven ma'am." wooyoung promises saluting to you before shooing san to go get changed.
"take care of him woo!"
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the day of the pregnancy was absolutely terrifying yet exciting. it was the thrill of finally becoming parents that was the only thing keeping you sort of calm. your mind wandered every now and then to the idea of you being a bad mother but san was quick to shut down those thoughts.
you guys still didn't have any idea of what the gender was, deciding it would be fun to find out the day of. san was still confident that you guys were going to have a girl even though all the ajummas begged to differ with their superstitions.
"it's a girl!" the doctor exclaimed cuddling the newbown baby.
"i told you!" san shouts jumping into the air out of excitement before wrapping his arms tightly around you, his lips on your forehead. "thank you. thank you so much." tears of happiness flowed from san's eyes as he held you close, his warm embrace making you feel overwhelmed with his love.
"i love you so so much." san cried into your neck as he looked through blurry eyes at you cradling your daughter.
you couldn't even say anything too tired and overwhelmed to give a proper response. instead, you just cried with san holding the baby so close to your heart.
it felt refreshing? calming? something like that to be able to cry away your emotions. even the worries of becoming a mother washed away and instead hope and excitement for the future replaced the negative thoughts. you couldn't believe that you finally have a kid with the love of your life, not even just the love of your life but your best friend in the whole wide world.
god, you were so lucky to have a san in your life and he was just as lucky or even more to have you in his life. now, the both of you were fortunate to have a third in your new little family.
san let out a sniffle before planting a wet kiss to the crown of your head, "my girls."
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minarisplaything · 10 months
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Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé
pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.
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Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.
That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.
"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.
You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.
Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.
You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.
Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.
It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.
"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.
"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.
"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.
"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.
For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.
"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."
"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"
Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."
There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.
"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"
Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.
"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.
"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.
If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.
Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous.  To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.
You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.
"I've been looking for you all night!"
You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.
"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."
"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."
"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.
You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.
"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.
"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.
"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.
Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.
“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.
"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.
"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures. 
As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.
"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.
"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.
"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.
You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.
When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.
"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.
You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"
"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.
"We?"
Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”
She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."
Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.
 "Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."
"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.
"Later. We don't have a lot of time."
Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.
"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.
"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.
"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.
"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.
"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.
You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.
"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.
"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."
"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.
"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.
"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.
For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.
Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.
"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.
You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.
"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.
A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.
"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.
"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"
You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.
"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.
One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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velvetures · 10 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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oncomingnight · 4 months
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Yandere! boyfriend x fem reader
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Malik is the sweetest guy you've ever come across and his charisma doesn't even come at a cost. You've never met anyone, no matter the gender, that was as attentive and humorous as him. Malik could care less if he's making himself look like a fool as long as he's graced with the presence of your heartwarming smile. His humor consists of material you'd only ever expect to hear out of the mouth of a teenage boy which is what makes his jokes so much funnier.
He doesn't need an international holiday in order to spoil you with stuffed animals, sweets and handwritten letters, he already gifts you all those things for the simple fact that he wants to. Malik is always showing up to your shared apartment with a bouquet of flowers in hand as he feels like the worst man to ever walk the Earth if he does otherwise.
Letting you pay for yourself is something he'll never allow you to do, as long as he's with you of course. He can't exactly stop you from doing so if he's not physically next to you (rare occurrence)but he has his own way of handling that issue. He'll notice if you seemed to have purchased something with your own money while he wasn't around, and immediately reach into his pocket in an effort to pay you back.
"You look so pretty, baby. Is that a new lipgloss?" "Yeah it is, I bought it when we were at the market the other day!" "Oh yeah? How much was it, baby? I'll give you your money back, just let me know if you want something next time, okay? I don't care if I look like I'm busy with something else, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you."
While we're on the topic of time I think this is the perfect moment to mention the fact that Malik is extremely possessive over not only you but also your time. Nothing gets him more upset than when the two of you are out together at a public setting and your friends attempt at pulling all of your attention away from him. In reality, your friends are simply making conversation with you and they actually make several attempts at including him in the conversation. This, however, doesn't matter to Malik one bit, he can see right through their 'good people' personas.
Malik practically battles with other people when it comes to having your full attention on him. It's not even a case where you're not appreciating how greatly he treats you, no. He is the one who is urging himself to be the absolute best for you before someone attempts at lifting you off of your feet and away from him. He finds it incredibly comedic when others attempt at acting as if they could ever understand or know you as well as he does. There have been many instances where he's gotten you the perfect gift and he just can't help but look on at the other party attendees with pity, as they all now know that you won't be as satisfied with their presents.
Is Malik a possessive boyfriend (soon to be husband)? Yes. Although, this doesn't mean he won't allow you to have girl trips/sleepovers. If you're having a girls trip in an area with a completely different time zone, this will not prevent Malik from staying up as late and early as he needs in order to call and wish you a good morning.
He will keep you on the phone for extremely extended amounts of time (not that you mind). Your friends could try their absolute hardest at being irritated towards his constant need to be near you and to call you but they just can't. Malik is so sickeningly sweet to you that they'd be seen as bitter people that are just jealous due to the fact they've never been as loved and cared for as you are now.
Malik didn't exactly grow up in the most accepting house hold, even as a child, he felt as though he was constantly walking on eggshells with his parents. His parents were raised with extremely aggressive religious views that would quite obviously intimidate the average person, this caused him to be raised in an environment where even cartoons most people deemed as 'kid friendly' were forbidden. Anything that wasn't blatantly religious was seen as unholy, his parents wanted him to uphold the stereotypical attitude of toxic manhood that even him doing simple acts of skincare were seen as something to 'look out for'.
This extremely damaged environment he was raised in just may be the reason as to why he doesn't speak to his family anymore and why he loves so ferociously, like a rabid animal. I don't know though, it's not like I make the rules or anything.
He absolutely adores doing anything and everything romantic with you, especially within the comfort of your own home. When the holidays roll around, there's nothing he loves more than brewing up two cups of iced coffee, sporting matching onesies, baking Christmas cookies and lighting up the fire place as the moon shines into your shared bedroom window.
Well, there is one thing he loves more than all of that.
That's you.
Edit: credit to @cafekitsune for the divider ♡
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kadwrites · 10 months
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a man with a reputation | T.S
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read the next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; you cannot talk your way out of this , for the first time in your life, you're given no choice.
warnings ; angst, cursing, mild violence i guess??? , arranged marriage trope.
a/n ; maybe i'll turn this into a series? who knows, let me know what you think <3. also the accent is a mess, but im trying.
_
"no!" your eyes are wide , glassy with anger filled tears "i will not be treated like some piece of land."
"would you listen? your father and i are thinking of your future." you mother is looking at you with a stern face, sitting beside your father as you stand in front of them
"what future do you think i'll 'ave with thomas fucking shelby?" you raise your voice
"do not speak to me like that , i am your mother."
"we're old, i'm sick with god knows how many illnesses." your father speaks, his cane in his hand as he leans against it, still on the sofa
"don't start with that talk" you shake your head with a chuckle, you sniffle and turn your head away
"i don't know if i'll live another day , i am too sick to work, too sick to care for the farm, there is nothing left for me to give you" he speaks slowly with a serious voice, and it makes your heart sink "this isn't a joke or some game, i've survived the war and lived long enough to see all of you grow , but i know that my time is near, i cannot risk dying and leaving you with nothing"
your father never spoke to you like that, he was always jovial , happy.
it seems like it hits you for the first time, how much your parents have aged, how much the illness took from your father, how his sicknesses have changed him.
"celest got to marry who she chose and so did oliver and so did abraham, but i don't get to do that? i dont get to choose my own husband?" your tears start falling, your voice cracks
"i need to know you'll be taken care of , that you'll be in good hands when im dead and gone."
"and you think his hands are the good hands you speak of?" you cant help the humorless smile that graces your face, hot tears stain your cheek "you can't be serious"
"he is the most feared man in birmingham," your mother chimes in
"you are willing to sell your daughter! to some gangster!" you raise your voice again
your mother stands and faces you
"i am not selling you off, i am securing you a future, with a wealthy man, who can give you everything you can possibly want. you'll live like royalty" her words come through gritted teeth "i am not giving you away to some old pig, you're marrying a respectable man, a man with a reputation."
"a reputation? don't you know what 'appened to his first wife ? you are securing me a grave" you come nose to nose with your mother, both of you almost vibrating in anger "you are killing me is what you're doing, you're selling me off to the highest bidder"
the next thing you hear is the sound of your mother's palm against your cheek, the sound of the slap echos throughout the empty house, your head is turned, your cheek stings
your parents never laid a hand on you, even as a rebellious teenager when they caught you sneaking out the window or smoking on the roof.
your head turns slowly, eyes wide as you look at your mother, she looks mortified at her own actions,
you turn and run off and up the stairs to your room, hearing your father yell at your mother for what shes done.
at some point during the night, you had fallen asleep, but not for long. you were awake when the sun rose, your back pressed against your bed frame, looking ahead at the painting on the wall, it was a family portrait, and you were sitting on your father's lap.
you knew your sister was here when you heard the sounds of her five children, running around the house.
she knocks softly but doesn't bother to wait for an answer when she opens the door after a few seconds, she walks slowly, and sees you on the bed.
your eyes stuck on the portrait , your face almost emotionless, your tears have dried and stained your cheeks, she wonders for how long you cried, your back against the wood of the bed frame, no pillow thrown in her direction for waking you up, no annoyed words saying "you couldn't fucking come in the afternoon?" . the curtains are parted, letting the light in, which is very unusual for you.
you hear the bed creek under her weight when she gets on it, laying next to you
"i heard about yesterday" she says softly, her head turned to look at you
you only glance at her , but your head doesn't turn, then you look back at the portrait
"they're doing this for you, they want whats best for you." she's not sure if it is you she's trying to reassure you or herself , this wasn't ever supposed to happen.
her little sister was supposed to marry a man she wanted, a simple man, a man capable of love
you hum, or you make a sound at least , acknowledging her.
"he isn't all that bad, you know."
a weak chuckle escapes you at her words "in what world is thomas shelby not a bad person?" your voice is hoarse , from screaming and crying all night long no doubt.
"he can give you a good life."
"ya 'ave a good life don't you? with the man you chose, the man you love." your gaze doesn't move, still staring at the painting "its not fair, you lot got to be happy, and i don't."
"ya don't know that." her voice is full of sympathy or maybe pity, you didn't want to know.
you finally turn to your sister, "do you honestly think that i can be happy with 'im ?"
your sister hesitates , she licks her lips "he's a powerful man."
you chuckle at that too "that tends to 'appen when you're a gangster."
"i tried with them, i really did." her voice is weak too, it cracks.
your eyes well with tears again, you didn't know you could even cry anymore "i know..." your voice is a whisper
you knew she'd be against it, she wouldn't agree, maybe oliver would tell you to consider it, abraham would too, just to please your father.
but celest wouldn't
"what are ya goin' to do?" she whispers back, her tears start rolling too
"what can i do?" you ask "i dont 'ave any other choice"
she looks at you as if she didn't expect that. you were always stubborn, always talking your way out of anything you didn't want, you always got your way with your parents, thats what she taught you.
but this time, you don't want to fight back.
"you're goin' through with it?"
"i cant live knowing i disobeyed my father's dying wish."
your father was sick, and getting worse everyday. you were a stubborn woman, but the little girl inside of you couldn't bear to disobey her father.
celest wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you to her chest, her hands runs up and down your arm , like she did when abraham would bother you to tears, or when oliver wouldn't let you play with him.
"at least he's easy on the eyes, eh?" she tries desperately to lighten the mood, her lips pressed to your forehead
" hes old." you say with a weak laugh
"hes older, not old." she corrects, with a laugh too.
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