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snowfieldstories · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! I heard ur open for requests for kim dokja hehe, anyways i was wondering if u could do a kim dokja/female reader where we are his childhood best friend and we defend him from his bullies during when we were in Highschool? Reader has a crush kn him since children and basically confessed her feelings in high school and dokja reciprocated it hehehehe bonus if they got engaged before the apocalypse :DD

Thats it tysm, have a nice day <333

chronology of love.

kim dokja x childhood friend!reader

a.n: the idea of being a protective, childhood friend of kim dokja is so adorable! especially then turning into a couple, and later engaged. i had so much fun building their dynamic that I may come back to this someday...maybe more h.s scenes

and to the others in my ask box--your requests are on the way! there's a lot on my plate rn so some of them are slow-moving, sorry <3

warnings: strong language, mentions of suicide attempt

w.c: 4.5k

summary: a brief chronicle of the love between you and kim dokja, from childhood to present day

a new kind of subject pt. ii ->

six

You were six when you first noticed him.

A boy your age, with big, dark eyes and a soft complexion. He must have lived somewhere in the same apartment complex as you, because you saw his mother whisk him up the stairs once.

You had the chance to meet him one sticky, summer day.

Your mother heard the jingle first. The ice cream truck. She pushed a wad of cash in your grubby hands and sent you downstairs, eager to get your hyper self out of the house for a moment of peace. You skipped happily down the apartment stairs.

"Chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream. Chocolate, vanilla, I'm gonna scream! If you don't...gimme...iiice creeaaaaa—ah!" Your self-composed song came to a surprised halt as you nearly toppled over a lump on the bottom step.

It was that boy.

"Hey! Don't sit there." Your pout dropped open when he looked up, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I—I'm s—sorry..."

He got up to move, but you ran in front of him. "Why are you crying?"

The boy shook his head, shying away from you.

"Tell me." You went to grab his arm, but a huge, reddish-purple mark stopped you cold. "Oh! You're hurt?"

Now you were looking at him closely, and you saw a similar red mark on the side of his mouth. He turned away from you. "Go away."

You wanted to say something, but a loud jingle reminded you of your initial quest. "Ice cream!" you gasped, and snatched up his hand to tug him down to the street.

The ice cream man smiled as you both approached. "What can I get you kids?"

You ordered a chocolate cone for yourself—without nuts, of course, because eww—and you turned to the boy. "Pick one!"

"Huh?" The boy was shocked. At your insistence, he chose a superhero-themed ice pop. You gave the money to the ice cream man, stuffing the change impatiently in your pocket after. You both thanked the man and sat on the curb with your treats.

"It's hot. And ice cream makes you feel good." You bit into the cold chocolate, and the boy watched you with confused eyes. "Do you feel good now?"

He gave an experimental lick of his own popsicle. "...A little."

You were halfway through your ice cream when the most important question popped into your head. "What's your name?"

"Kim D—Dokja."

Excitedly, you told him yours. Your beaming smile was timidly returned.

"Dokja," you said after finishing the dessert. "It's too hot. Let's go to my house and play!"

For the first time, Kim Dokja looked a bit hopeful. "Is that okay?"

"Yes! Let's go." And you proceeded to grab his hand with your sticky one and lead him back up the stairs. A wash of cold air greeted you two.

"Mama! I have a new friend. Can Dokja play with me, pleeeaseee?"

Your mother's eyes widened the instant Kim Dokja came into view. She coughed, trying to hide her immense distress at the sight of such a young child bearing such pain. "Yes, of course he can stay. Um, Dokja-yah, where do you live? I should tell your...father?" At his flinch, she quickly said, "Mother. I'll tell your mother that you're here."

Kim Dokja gave her the information while you wiggled impatiently beside him. Your mother reminded you to wash your hands first, before she picked up the phone.

After that day, you begged your mother to set up another play date with Kim Dokja. He was nice. And funny. And he also liked to read!

Your mother agreed easily each time you asked, and your new friend was constantly over, morning to evening. On special occasions, Kim Dokja was even allowed to sleep over. The two of you had built such a comfortable space in your home, that it never crossed your mind to go to his.

Summer break ended, and you were sad that you wouldn't get to see your new friend every day.

But, suddenly, Kim Dokja was at your school. Had he always been there?

You asked him, and his frail, fearful little yes made you feel bad. Mother always said you should be kind to others, and you knew you had been mean just now. So you grabbed his shoulders and hugged him. "I'm so happy! Now we can be best friends all the time. Forever!"

He flailed in your hold, before tentatively squeezing back. "Okay."

From then on, the two of you were attached at the hip. Kim Dokja came over to your house often, so often, in fact, that if you were any older and wiser you would have realized the truth. Your mom was wise. She ushered in little Dokja, and while you proudly showed him the challenging book you managed to read all on your own, your mother returned a smile of reassurance and worry to the grateful one that Kim Dokja's mother offered.

At school, some of the teachers affectionately called you "double trouble." You had a knack for dragging Kim Dokja into your harebrained schemes, and despite getting him into trouble, he was happy because he was with you. The teachers never scolded you two very hard, anyways.

"I love Dokja, mama," you said one day after he left your house. "Can he stay here forever with me?"

"No, dear. He can't."

You whined that it isn't fair! and he is your bestest friend! so why couldn't he be with you?

"He has his own family," your mother responded, but she looked rather uncomfortable to say it. The truth was, she wished more than anything that that sweet boy could be welcomed into a more loving home. But there was nothing to be done.

A brilliant thought entered your little mind. "One day, I'm going to marry him so he has to stay."

Your mother was already in full support of your childish dream.

Everyone at school also knew that there was no Kim Dokja without you, and there was no you without Kim Dokja—all the way through the final year of elementary school.

And then you moved.

fourteen

"This pathetic twig went down too easy, today. Hey! Hey, Song Minwoo, should we make him beg?"

Kim Dokja was dizzy on the floor of the school hallway. His head had struck the tile when they'd shoved him, and he could already tell where the bruises would form on his body. At least this time they didn't stuff his head down the toilet to literally eat shit...

But this time they had stolen his phone. And a chapter containing a pivotal moment in TWSA had just dropped.

So Kim Dokja was highly considering begging in order to get that phone back.

Before he could decide, a classmate wedged herself in between him and Song Minwoo. He only caught a glimpse of her ear before she faced his bully head on, but something about her made his heart race—no one had ever dared to interfere in these tormenting sessions before.

"Stop," she said in a low voice.

Her uniform was crisp and clean from the back, and her willingness to step in was the mark of someone confident, yet uninformed. She must be that new transfer student that arrived today.

"You're the new girl, right?" said Song Minwoo eagerly, and Kim Dokja wanted to scoff. She must be pretty. "Let me help you out. You should avoid losers like him—here, I'll show you around campus."

Before Song Minwoo could wrap his meaty fingers around her shoulder, she lunged forwards.

Is she hugging him?! thought Kim Dokja, before she swung her leg around to kick Song Minwoo's out from under him, slamming him hard to the ground. Her hair cascaded around her face as she loomed over the bully.

Kim Dokja felt a sick satisfaction at the whimpered flinch of Song Minwoo as she pretended to go in for a punch to the face.

"Don't touch me," she hissed. "And don't you fucking dare touch Kim Dokja ever again."

The sound of his name made him jolt, and not from surprise that the new student knew his name, but because it was your voice ringing loud and clear, declaring his name.

You pushed a hand back through your hair to see properly, and Kim Dokja could now see your face perfectly. (And it was a rather perfect face.) His heart thumped in his chest as his mind melted like a popsicle.

Three years.

You snatched the phone out of Song Minwoo's hand and kicked his groaning body away.

"Next time, I'll kill you."

Perhaps Kim Dokja should have been afraid or concerned at your violent outburst—so unlike the you that he knew before��but he only had one thought: You were cool like Yoo Joonghyuk.

It seemed you possessed the ability to intimidate with your expression like Yoo Joonghyuk, too, because Song Minwoo and his cronies quickly scampered away and down the hall. You finally turned, face softening, and your captivating gaze locked on to him.

"Are you some kind of black belt?"

It was so, ridiculously far from what Kim Dokja had hoped to say to you if he ever had the chance to see you again, but it was the first thing that popped out of his mouth. His brain was too scrambled at your presence to think straight.

At his words, though, a dusting of pink swept across your cheeks. Yeah, you're definitely pretty.

"You remember how I did taekwondo?" Kim Dokja vaguely recalled it, but he had never joined your lessons. He pocketed his phone given by you. "I worked really hard at it in middle school...it was a good stress-reliever..."

You looked as if you wanted to say more, but then your mouth clamped shut.

He stared at you, and you stared back at him.

"D—Dokja-yah," you said at last, ducking your head. Your body trembled once, twice, and you fidgeted with your fingers. "I missed you."

Kim Dokja was glad you weren't looking at him right then, because his body flushed red. His schoolboy crush on you hadn't faded in the least, and he willed away any thoughts of it because you had only just returned and certainly weren't feeling anything of the sort. You were his only friend (if he could still hope to call you that?) and he cherished you too much to ever risk losing that companionship.

But he had missed you. Painfully. He had never been more thankful to still be alive than in that moment, seeing you once again.

It was a once-unattainable dream. And now you were a reality.

Kim Dokja called your name, and when you lifted your head he grasped your hands in his. "I missed you, too."

Your smile was blinding. Dazzling. Kim Dokja felt his head go woozy, but this time it was a pleasant sensation. Then he was wrapped in something even more pleasant and warm—your embrace.

"Dokja-yah, let's go have lunch. Oh, did you bring enough food? I have extra, mama sent me way too much for the first day, and I have these Japanese onigiri..." You prattled on, just as bubbly and sweet as he remembered, and Kim Dokja was sure that stars dotted his eyes as he gazed at you fondly. "...and—ehh? Are you listening? Wait, let's go to the nurse first and get your head checked. You fell? Or they hit you there?"

"Both," Kim Dokja murmured. He wasn't concerned in the least about his head, but if it meant more time with you (and you fussing over him like that), then he was more than willing to go.

You nodded and tugged him along. Kim Dokja was acutely aware of the way your fingers laced together, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Dokja," you spoke seriously. "If they ever bother you again—tell me, so I can beat their asses to hell."

Kim Dokja smiled and promised, "I will."

Satisfied, you continued walking with the focus and determination of a military commander. Then you stopped. "Um...I actually don't know where the nurse's office is..."

For the first time in three years, Kim Dokja let loose a genuine laugh filled with pure happiness.

He hadn't felt so free in a long, long time.

seventeen

"What is Yoo Joonghyuk up to now in Ways of Survival?" You asked as you both lounged by the window of an empty classroom during break.

The eager expression on Dokja's face made your insides all warm and gooey.

As he spoke, you filled his hands with karaage and onigiri (you had learned that he liked the tuna mayo ones the best) that your mother had prepared. Though your family had hated the majority of your three years in Tokyo before your father jumped at the chance to return to Seoul, your mother had taken a shine to Japanese cooking, and regularly made them for your school lunches. She always packed extra for Dokja.

"...and this regression might be the best one yet, because he has nearly all of his companions by his side. So in the latest chapter..."

You listened intently, offering your input and own questions here and there. Coming home to find Dokja's new obsession with a web novel was a bit surprising, but not so much once you learned of the history behind it.

You pushed that train of thought out of your head. It never failed to raise the most gut-wrenching fear in your body, drowning your heart and mind in agonizing distress.

Dokja kept talking, and you were satisfied to listen. Though you were an avid reader yourself, something about Dokja's love for Ways of Survival made it a more thrilling experience to hear him tell the story from his own mouth. The novel was captivating when told through him; it was a bit...lackluster when read on its own (not that you would ever admit that, even under supreme torture).

Eventually, the conversation drifted to more pressing things—the final year of high school. University. Though it was only two weeks into the school year, already these important life decisions were weighing on you all.

"I want to go to the same university," you said, and not for the first time.

Dokja argued back, "But you can do so much more than me, and go to a better school."

I want to go wherever you are, you idiot, you thought, a bit tired that he seemed to never understand this fact.

He was listing all of the reasons why you were supposedly destined for bigger and better things, when the sun caught his eyes. Dark grey suddenly paled and sparkled, his thick lashes glowed, and you were struck dumb.

He really is a beautiful idiot.

You were in love, so stupidly in love, and Kim Dokja could not get the hint no matter what you did.

But there was one thing you had yet to try.

Your eyes dropped to his plush lips, slightly glistening as he wet them to continue speaking. Already, your hands were shaking at the idea, but the feeling had overwhelmed you to the point where you couldn't bear to contain your heart any longer. And you had never been one to hold back when it came to Kim Dokja.

So you steeled your nerves (they still made you bite your quivering lip) and interrupted him.

"Dokja. Can we try something new?"

── .✦

High school had abruptly switched from hell to heaven the day you returned into Kim Dokja's life.

You had always treated him like he had value, even as kids, and even as you grew older and realized that the constant rotation of injuries littering his body weren't because of any sort of clumsiness.

With you, he felt like he could just...be. Not the son of a murderer. A victim of abuse. A failed suicide attempt. Not the invisible and unambitious student by his peers. And not even Dokja, the only child, alone in every sense of the word.

With you, he was just Kim Dokja—an obsessed web novel geek, a guy more witty and clever than anyone knew, and your best friend. And much less alone.

In your eyes, he was enough.

"Dokja." He knew it was something important at your tone. "Can we try something new?"

Kim Dokja was intimately acquainted with your cheeky and playful schemes. You would cock your eyebrow, tilt your head in an alluring sort of way, and ask him to join you. And he could never resist.

This wasn't your usual approach.

Your lashes were lowered, lacking confidence as you worried at your bottom lip. Kim Dokja was a touch concerned, but it was you—you whom he trusted more than anyone in the world, more than himself, and so he said, "Yes."

When you finally looked up, your gaze on him was intense. He inhaled sharply as you leaned in intimately, sliding your palms along his cheeks.

And you kissed him.

You. Kissed. Him.

Kim Dokja couldn't move. Then his brain rebooted, just in time to register the softness of your lips before you pulled away.

"Oh." A blush graced your cheeks as you looked away, hurt in your eyes. "...I see."

"Wait—" he gasped out. "Wait, what—?"

You sucked in a deep breath, as if you were trying not to cry. "I like you, Dokja. Actually, I've been in love with you since were were children, and I just thought...since this was maybe our last school year together, I should...well, you don't have to feel the same, of course. I understand...um, I hope we can still be friends...I would never let it interfere with that or anything..."

As your voice became smaller and smaller, Kim Dokja was stuck on one, singular thought: You were in love with him.

And he couldn't help but ask, still unbelieving, "You're really in love with me?"

"Yes." You sounded afraid, but resolute.

Kim Dokja's heart was going to burst. Then the feeling rushed out of him like water from a geyser.

"I love you. I've always loved you, ever since we were kids. I never thought you could—" he choked, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Oh." You said, your tone coloring with relief. The gleam returned to your eyes. "I see!"

The silence after where you stared at one another was very brief.

You both moved at the same time, your lips pressing together again. Kim Dokja felt you smile into the kiss, and he returned it as your lips met over and over.

Your hands went up to grip the collar of his uniform, and his found your waist. The kisses became slick as you both experimented—a nibble on your bottom lip, the way he'd always craved to do when you bit it nervously; a lick at the seam of your lips after you tilted your head for better access; a tug of his hair that made him gasp into your mouth, prompting you to take him in deeper. Your hands were everywhere as he pushed you against the wall, like you couldn't get enough of him. Just as he couldn't get enough of you.

Riiiiing!

The shrill bell went off, and you both ripped apart from one another.

Classmates trickled in from the lunch period, too wrapped up in their own gossip and worries to notice the flustered and rumpled pair trying to catch their breaths.

"Uh, we should—"

"Let's get back—"

You both stumbled over your words and looked away shyly. But your eyes were drawn back to the other. Even after you took your seats, the class had settled around you, and the teacher had made their appearance, you both couldn't help the frequent glances.

A sharp call of your name made you whip forwards in your seat. "And Kim Dokja, too! Stop mooning over each other and get back to work."

The class giggled at your embarrassment, but you both smiled to yourselves.

Life was already so much sweeter with the one Kim Dokja loved loving him back.

twenty-eight

You knew it was Ways of Survival the instant the dokkaebi revealed itself. Fortunately, you had absorbed all of the knowledge Dokja shared through his detailed, almost daily, recaps of the story.

Unfortunately—you were not with Kim Dokja the day it all went to hell.

But now, after recent developments and the reports gathered from loyal followers in your group, you had a good idea of where he might be. You were headed towards the station rumored to house prophets.

You ran through the streets near Gwanghwamun station, when a group in front of a local shrine caught your eye. Standing apart from the others was a cute young boy in a backwards baseball cap, and he spoke with a man...

Your heart leapt and stumbled over itself in excitement.

"Kim Dokja!"

You saw his eyes widen just before you crashed into him, sweeping him into a bone-crushing hug. He held you back just as strongly. You breathed in his scent as he whispered your name repeatedly like a prayer.

When the chaste contact wasn't enough, you drew up to press your forehead to his. "I knew you would survive."

He exhaled slowly. "I knew you would as well. I mean, I talked your ear off about Ways of Survival enough times..."

"Good thing, right?"

"Great thing," he said, voice thick with emotion. His nose brushed yours, a silent request for permission.

You responded with your lips.

It was nothing too sensual, but your kiss was still filled with the passion and longing of being separated for any length of time in such a dangerous world. Aware of your gawking audience, you kept it disappointingly brief.

"I heard about the published regressor novel," you said, waggling your eyebrows. "You petty, petty man."

Dokja had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. He grumbled, "It's so obviously plagiarized! They deserve to be humbled."

You laughed, his lovable pout prompting you to kiss it again. "I very much agree. Especially since it helped me find you quicker."

His hold on you grew stiff, and you spotted the shame in his gaze. "I've been looking everywhere. I wanted to leave to find you, so badly, but I couldn't abandon—the plot—"

"Dokja, hush." You cupped his cheeks and he leaned into your touch. "I understand and I don't blame you one bit." Dokja seemed to relax at your words, knowing you to be honest with him about your feelings. "In fact, I might have to smack you if you did stray from the story...because the Kim Dokja I know and love would never do such a thing."

A sheepish expression crossed Dokja's face. He rubbed the ring on your left hand and brought it to his lips; then he pulled the chain around his neck out from under his robe. Your ring's twin was looped through.

"I was afraid to damage or lose it. Now that we fight constantly with fists and swords," he explained. You nodded in understanding, having become familiar with constant battle as well.

All of your taekwondo mastery had come in handy. When paired with your knowledge of the world—you were a formidable and unstoppable force during these early scenarios.

You had been with the Wanderers the last few weeks. When the apocalypse came, you were visiting his mother to tell her about your engagement. You certainly weren't asking for her permission, but it was her son, and you felt strange not informing her that you would soon be family. In the legal sense only, of course.

Dokja would understand—he knew it was something you felt compelled to do, even if he had no desire to join you—but he hadn't known when you would go.

You were a bit afraid of his reaction to finding out you had begun the scenarios in a high-level prison.

He hesitated before he asked, "Are your parents...?"

"My mother survived." You didn't need to elaborate, and Dokja's fingers tightened around yours in comfort. "I left her with the Wanderers. She'll be safe there...the king will protect her."

They were familiar acquaintances, after all.

You were conflicted about telling him. In the end, you had no desire to sour your long-awaited reunion, and so you left it for another day.

Today, at least, you would savor this sweet moment with your beloved. And his new companions.

"Um..."

It was the boy. He looked up at you with big, expectant eyes, strongly reminding you of a young Dokja.

"This is Lee Gilyoung. He was on the train with me when it all began," introduced Dokja.

You squatted to grab Lee Gilyoung's hands. "Thank you, Gilyoung-ah, for keeping him safe for me."

Then you kissed his hands gently in gratitude, and Lee Gilyoung's face flushed bright red. He leaned back and tugged Dokja down to his level to whisper in his ear. "Hyung, she's really pretty."

"I know," Dokja stage-whispered back with a grin. You pressed your lips together to suppress a laugh.

There was a call of your name, and you straightened to see a welcome and familiar face. "Yoo Sangah!"

You reacquainted yourself with the kind coworker of your fiancé, and as you chatted, Dokja trailed behind with a palm hovering over your lower back. Then, he took you to meet the others and your hand found his again.

You were overwhelmed with joy as you saw how genuinely these people cared for your Kim Dokja. He deserved more people in his life that cared for his well-being besides you, and in a ruined world he would need all the people he could get. At each new introduction, you held him a little tighter.

Dokja finally noticed the glisten that had gathered under your lashes. "Is something wrong—?!"

"No," you said with a laugh. "I'm just really happy."

Dokja's panic was squashed immediately, and he settled his arms fully around you once more. "I'm happy, too," he murmured.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment.

"By the way." You smirked and traced your fingers along the collar of his robe teasingly. "Where did your clothes go?"

Dokja groaned, "They burned."

You were looking forward to hearing that story (spoiler: you ended up hating that shitty-ass story), and contented yourself with his presence until there was an appropriate time to catch up later.

Yes, it was not an ideal situation, this apocalypse; but somehow it was just right for the two of you. You and Dokja would figure it out together, the way you always did.

You would fight, and you would live. Together.

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #kim dokja #kim dokja x reader #orv x reader #orv fanfic #omniscient reader novel #omniscient reader webtoon #snowfieldstories #reader insert #replied

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donvampiro · 2 months ago

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hi!! can I ask for the scenario? ASL brothers see some guy molesting the f!reader(as their little sister), like flirting with them or perhaps saying some dirty thoughts? modern au if possible. I don't know English very well, so I apologize for any mistakes((

thanks in advance for your reply!! (≧◡≦) ♡

Hii Anon!! ofc you can! omg ASL brothers my beloved <333 i usually don't do AUs bc i kinda suck but somehow i got inspired here. tysm dear @pure-kirarin for the lil push. Thank you for your request Anon, sorry for the super late reply and hopefully this lil drabble lives up to your expectations! Have a nice day/night :)) (oh and dw English is not my 1st language either ><)

MASTERLIST - Welcome

***

'Bros being bros'

ASL brothers & little sister!reader

Warning: attempted assault

You hadn't originally planned on bringing them to the club with your friends. However, it had been a long time since you'd seen them. They all were doing their own things, saw each other very rarely, yet somehow always ended up together.

Them. Your brothers. They were odd customers, to say the least.

Your brothers were both perfectly similar and completely different. Regardless, they were certainly friendly, but very chaotic, which is why not only — as we mentioned — you hadn't planned on bringing them to your friends' party, but also why you were afraid of what might happen once you got there.

But maybe your interrogations and worries were unfounded, because as you were dancing and occasionally talking with your friends, nothing catastrophic was happening. You looked around for them, and each of the three seemed to be having fun, dancing, drinking, chatting, singing even. Well, these three menaces might as well know better how to behave in society than your little sisterly gaze gave them credit for; and realizing that you finally didn't have to worry about being embarrassed by one of your brothers (or even all three at once, as is often the case) lifted a weight off your shoulders, allowing you to dance more freely and passionately. It was going to be a nice party.

But that was without counting on this overly insistent guy who was getting closer and closer to you while you were dancing; this guy you had barely noticed and whose true intentions you had barely detected because of the adrenaline of the evening.

If you had known, you wouldn't have told your friends that you'd be back in a few minutes, that you were just going to order something at the counter. Because you’ve been stopped from doing so as you waltzed through the crowd to make your way. An unknown palm grabbed your arm, abruptly pulling you back towards a body that was equally foreign to you, and you gasped.

“Wha—”, you didn't even have time to say anything before the guy had already grabbed your hips, now facing you with a deviant smile that froze you in place. “Let go of me!”

The man ignored your reply.

“Hey”, he smirked. “I know a wayyy much nicer place than this club, we can both go there and have a good time.”, he coaxed, caressing you inappropriately as he reeled off his words.

As you struggled, you wanted to scream, but somehow the gestures and the ugly expression on this person's face did nothing but reinforce the lump forming in your throat. You still tried to defend yourself.

“Leave me alone, you—” you exclaimed, trying to make yourself heard, but he quickly silenced you by slapping a hand over your mouth, before nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his other hand still firmly on your hip, pushing you further into a more secluded corner of the club.

This didn't bode well. You continued to protest, but your voice was muffled by the constant pressure of his palm on your lips.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”, he complained, before smirking again, his lips brushing against your skin as he was talking. “I promise we're going to have fun. You might not feel like doing it right now, but afterward you'll see, it's great.”

A shudder of horror ran down your spine, and you looked around for one of your brothers. They were nowhere in your field of vision. Meanwhile, the man removed his hand from your mouth, only to place it back on your hip and move ever closer to you.

“Maybe you could kiss me for starters”, he said smugly, and it clearly wasn't a proposition.

“No way! Let me go, you freak!”, you shouted, still struggling as best you could, but deep down you were losing hope a little…

“Woah, sorry! didn't mean to spill your drink. yeah, yeah, don't worry, i’ll buy you a new one later! i know, m’sorry, but i’m in a bit of a hurry here, bro!”

… until you heard that familiar voice though, and briefly looked over at it — it was Ace, more or less apologizing as he tried to push his way through the dancing crowd to get to you. You let out a shaky sigh of relief. Once near you, your brother smirked, glancing at the guy who was bothering you, with his hands still on your hips. He looked up and down at your attacker and you, as if gauging the position you two were in.

“Wow man, that’s sexy,” he whistled mischievously, as if he were playing along, but you knew your brother too well. In his sleepy eyes burned the flame of an emotion you couldn't quite name. Ace took a quick sip from his cup before pressing it against the man's cheek, pulling his face away from yours and urging him to let go of you. “Mind if I join you guys?”

The guy's eyebrows knotted in confusion and irritation. He gritted his teeth, clearly searching for something to retort, but your brother didn't give him the luxury of it. Without further words and in a single gesture, Ace placed himself between the man and you, allowing you to free yourself from the troublemaker’s grip as the latter tried to move away from your brother — who grabbed his hips, caging him in the same position he had you in a few minutes ago.

“What the— get off of me!” the guy shouted, struggling, but Ace didn't budge. He was taller than your attacker anyway, and the latter clearly wasn't that brave.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like that?”, your brother taunted, his cup between his teeth. “Weird, I was sure you promised my lil sister this was great just a few minutes ago…”

You couldn't help but sigh, facepalming inwardly. Sure, you were grateful Ace had come to your rescue, but he didn't have to be so embarrassing. Still, he seemed determined to teach this guy a lesson— and he clearly wasn't the only one, you realized, as a hand gently but firmly rested on your shoulder.

You looked up and met Sabo's severe gaze. Luffy stood behind him, smiling softly at you while waving his hand. They must have been alerted by the guy's vehement protests, or by the fact that Ace had been gone for so long, whatever, in any case, they were here now, and comfort washed over you.

“Are you okay ?”, Sabo asked, lightly shaking your shoulder as he moved closer to your ear so you could hear him clearly.

You nodded, trying to calm yourself down as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, it’s… it’s alright. Thanks guys.”

“Good. Now let me talk to this man a little.”, he nodded in turn, before offering you a gentle smile. His gaze remained stern nonetheless, if not angry, and he too began to walk towards Ace, who had released his grip, but hadn't let the guy run away.

Before you could say anything, Luffy grabbed your arm, pulling you to another part of the club.

“(Y/N)!”, he shouted in a toothy grin. “C’mon, let's order some stuff at the bar, the menu looks amazing!”

Yeah, when all three of them get together, your brothers are real menaces.

#one piece #portgas d ace #sabo one piece #monkey d luffy #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #little sister reader #one piece scenarios #sabo the revolutionary #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #portgas d ace headcanons #ace x reader #sabo x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #op x reader #asl brothers #donvampiro

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stvrrlau · 3 months ago

Text

𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

⤷⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 sunghoon can't help but be drawn to you.

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.ᐟ obsessed!stalkerish!sunghoon⋆muse!fem!reader

𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦.ᐟ crazily obsessed sunghoon—like girl go file a warrent alr smh, sunghoon literally just glazing u, borderline freaky stuff???? idk man, making out, yn ignores all red flags (tbh fair enough) sunghoon has glasses (😈) written all from sunghoon's pov idk if it ruins it 4 u 💔

𝘴𝘵𝘷𝘳𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴.ᐟ OMG GUYS ????????? (≧ᗜ≦) TYSM 4 SO MUCH ATTENTION ON MY FIRST POST!!! my ao3 is also getting popular ily u all sm <333 wrd count۶ৎ 4 455

🇭🇴🇲🇪 , 🇱🇮🇧🇷🇦🇷🇾 .

SUNGHOON

𝐈𝐓 was the same. all the same.

all day, everyday, day in, day out, models, all doing the same things, striking the same poses, making same expressions, they were all the same.

the models may have been pretty, but none of them had that spark. none of them had what she had.

———

“sunghoon—i don’t understand. you’re so skilled with a camera but some of these photos came out looking—eh.” the director said, his tone almost distant as he flipped around the same photo multiple times, squinting at the photo, like it had personally wronged him.

“maybe the photos are so “eh”, because the models are “eh”.” i muttered, flicking through the images on my camera, scrolling past image after image of plastic smiles and glassy eyes.

my camera felt heavier with every shoot. stuffed with faces i couldn’t care less about. faces that blurred together the second the lights went off.

my precious camera, filled to the brim with the same prissy models who stand there and bark orders at the staff. god. i almost felt physically repulsed. i needed a new camera, my own personal camera, but unless the pay for this job drastically increased, i was stuck with my work and their work mixing—bleeding into one.

“well sunghoon—you’re going to have to at least pretend to enjoy your job because most of these images will not work.” he said, tossing the picture he finished scrutinizing aside, turning to face me with a glint in his eye. something dangerous.

“because if you can’t get it right next time—i’ll make you keep re-doing it. again. and again. and again.”

and with that he left, the echo of his polished shoes clicking on the ground a stark reminder of what i had gotten myself into. hell.

i exhaled harshly, sitting up in my chair. how was any of that mess out there, considered beautiful? my work. that—that was art.

art was supposed to be real: staring lifelessly into a camera, pouting and flailing your limbs around like a mad man, that wasn’t real. it was fake. all fake.

i sat silently, flicking through my photos, finally feeling at peace. my photos weren’t fake. they were real. a hell of a lot realer than whatever was going on outside.

speaking of which, the familiar echo of stiletto heels clicked down the corridor, followed by an endless amount of high pitched squawking and complaints.

finally. i could leave.

i waited for the studio to empty out, flicking off the last switch and silently leaving the hell-hole—also known as the company i worked for.

finally. finally, i could take pictures of what i truly wanted—pictures of real art.

the city.

———

the city was different after dark.

gone were the hollow poses, the forced perfection. the streets didn’t need a filter, didn’t need retouching. the neon lights flickered like open veins, bleeding soft pinks and electric blues across the cracked pavement. the air was cold, sharp, alive.

i took a deep breath, a shiver running through my body as i did so. even so, i grasped my camera tightly, my hands already turning red from the cold, and went on my mission.

take pictures of what i want. not what others want.

———

windows glowed like little stories waiting to be captured. strangers passed by in fleeting glances, faces half-hidden beneath streetlights, cigarette smoke swirling like halos around their heads.

the strangers.

my favourite.

out in the city, no one cared what designer bag you had stored away in your twenty meter by twenty meter wardrobe. no—out in the city, people had places to be, they didn’t have time to dilly-dally, people had an aim to complete.

just like me.

i aimed to take pictures of art.

out here, i didn’t need perfect lighting. i didn’t need a director breathing down my neck. all i needed was the click of my shutter, the hum of the city, and the darkness that wrapped around me like an old friend.

———

the rain had stopped hours ago, yet the silver streets still glistened like it was a few moments ago. puddles littered the ground wherever i went, small pools of mirrors stealing my attention wherever i went.

i found myself pausing, crouched down on the sidewalk, camera hanging loose around my neck as i stared at a puddle.

the moon was perfectly reflected, in all it’s glory, in that small mirror.

my fingers twitched as i reached for my camera, my touch already on the shutter, capturing the moment, saving it, for me, forever.

slowly, i released the camera from my grasp, letting it hang from my neck again, as something else caught my attention.

a tall lamppost, old, rusty, crooked, its light flickering like a dying star, stretching long and thin across the puddle’s surface.

the shot was perfect.

my hands quickly scrambled for the camera, quickly capturing the sight before me, before it disappeared right before my eyes.

quickly, my hands frantically pressed every button so i could check the shot. just as i thought: it was perfect.

too perfect.

i glanced up for a moment, before noticing the reason why. it wasn’t the scene. it was her.

her.

there she stood, in my camera, the light of the lamppost cast down on her, creating a sort of halo around her, her own little world. she wasn’t even posing: simply walking, from what i assumed work, her hand delicately wrapped around her bag, her coat framing her figure, falling just above her ankles.

she was what i was missing. she was my spark. she was my art. my muse.

my head whipped up from staring down at my camera, just to catch a glimpse of her disappearing into the shadows. and just like that she was gone. gone before i could do anything else.

but i’d make sure i’d see her again. she was my spark. she was my muse. she was what i needed. i need to make her mine.

because art like her doesn’t belong to the streets. it belongs to someone who can capture it. preserve it. own it. someone like me.

———

i sat in the studio, staring at my camera.

this time i wasn’t flicking through my pictures though, no—this time i was only looking at one. the one with her.

the longer i looked, analyzed, the more i had to find her again.

i felt my breathing come in short gasps, my heart pound wildly in my chest, my body suddenly feeling warmer, hotter. but why was this happening to me? because of her. my muse. my spark.

today. i will find her.

———

as soon as work was over i rushed out of the studio, not giving a damn about the models that screeched loudly as i pushed through the crowded corridors.

without another thought, i headed to where i first saw her. where my camera first got a glimpse of her beauty.

i panted, leaning against a nearby wall but always on the look-out, my eyes scanning anyone that dared walk past.

i waited. and waited. and waited.

i waited for my muse, hoping, pleading with the city, to bring her to me. bring her back to me.

my hands hovered above the camera, practically shaking with excitement: i could feel it. she was close.

just as i expected, there she was.

there she was, a slight skip in her step, walking home, as if it meant nothing at all. to me, it meant the world.

i didn’t hesitate. my hands firmly held the camera, producing picture after picture, until, just like the fateful night yesterday, she disappeared out of my sight. she’ll be back though. i know she will.

with shaky hands, i began to go through the photos, licking my lips nervously.

i bit back a gasp that threatened to escape my mouth, each photo more beautiful than the last. that coat, that bag, those shoes, that hat, that girl. she was a model like no other. and she was all mine.

———

days blurred into nights. and nights blurred into her.

the first time wasn’t enough. not even close. after that second encounter, i knew the city wasn’t just luck. it was fate.

our fate. we were meant for each other.

so i began studying her. studied her hobbies, what routes she took, what she liked, disliked, everything. i knew things about her that she herself probably didn’t know.

i learned everything.

her favorite stores. her favorite corners. the little flower shop she always passed but never entered. the crosswalk where she always stopped, even when the streets were empty. the café table she chose without fail, always second from the window, always her back to the world.

my camera became my weapon. and her? she was still the masterpiece i hadn’t finished capturing.

my camera never left my side. and neither did she.

whether she knew it or not, her life had already been printed onto film. captured, frozen, sealed away for me. for my eyes. for my keeping. sd cards filled with photographs of her—only her.

the first photograph didn’t satisfy me—no. it only fed the hunger—the monster inside of me, the monster that was desperate to steal her away from all of humanity and keep her for myself.

and every new photo, every new angle, every new fleeting moment caught on camera—it all provided that same feeling. that short high, that short burst of pleasure that shook me to my core.

she was perfect.

she was mine.

even if she didn’t know it yet.

———

my shoulders slumped as i held my breath, eyes drinking in the countless photos stored away inside my camera.

her smile, her side profile, the tilt of her head as she waited for her morning coffee. every angle was perfection, every shot proof that she belonged to me, even if the world hadn’t caught up yet.

my thumb hovered over the trackpad, shifting from photo to photo, heart pounding in sync with every click.

i could stare at her forever.

i would.

the soft click of the studio door opening and the distant sound of people talking quickly snapped me out of my trance, making me jump, nearly dropping my camera and forcing me to tear away my gaze from the beauty on my screen.

but it was worth it because stood in front of me, her hands clasped together politely, a small smile on her face, was her.

her.

i felt the air in my lungs disappear in an instant, fumbling with the power off button before my secrets were on display to the whole world.

“sunghoon.”

i coughed awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of my posture.

“this is your new apprentice. be kind, or at least pretend. teach her well—who knows, maybe you’ll finally earn that raise.” and with that he left, leaving me alone—with her.

fuck she was even more prettier in person.

the way her hair perfectly framed her face, the way her clothes were perfectly suited to highlight her curves, the way her face looked at me with an expression i only wanted to keep to myself.

“i’m yn,” she smiled, her voice soft and innocent, like a blossoming flower in spring, “i hope we can get along with each other.”

she extended her hand slowly, almost shy at first, but then confidently continuing.

i extended my hand to shake hers, and the moment her palm pressed to mine, i felt it. the same way i felt it that night.

she was perfect.

she was here.

here for me and only me.

i couldn’t stop the smile that made it’s way onto my face, one of those stupid grins you get when you’re tired but still happy. i licked my lips, my fangs peeking out for a moment before i spoke, trying to calm down.

“sunghoon. i’m sure we’ll get along just fine, don’t worry about it yn.” i replied, my voice far steadier than the storm brewing inside me. her name tasted sweet on my tongue, like sugar laced with poison—addictive, dangerous, and entirely mine.

———

i should’ve been teaching her about lighting. angles. exposure. but the way her brows furrowed in concentration was more artistic than any photo i’d ever taken.

“am i doing it right sunghoon?”

shit, even the way she says my name is perfect. the way my name fell from her mouth—soft, sweet, like honey melting on the tip of her tongue.

i didn’t answer right away. i couldn’t. not when i was too busy memorizing every inch of her face.

“y-yeah—but you should move your hand further up so you don’t accidentally delete anything.” i said.

confused, she moved her hand, still covering the wrong buttons. unsure, she looked at me for reassurance.

“no.” i murmured, shaking my head.

slowly, like a predator approaching its prey, i moved closer, suddenly stood behind her, so close close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin, to smell the soft floral perfume that clung to her wherever she went.

my hands found hers, fingers grazing her knuckles, slow, lingering, guiding.

“like this.” i whispered, my breath ghosting along the back of her neck.

i saw the subtle shiver that ran through her body and i bit my lip in an attempt to hold back a groan. fuck, this was bad. she wasn’t moving away, wasn’t screaming at me, calling me a creep, she just stayed in the same position.

like she didn’t want to move.

so close, that her hair tickled my face as she spoke.

her hair brushed against my cheek as she tilted her head slightly, voice light as ever, like the tension wasn’t making my pulse pound out of my chest.

“okay, but what if i want to compare multiple photos?”

“then you want to,” i spoke but i couldn’t hear myself, all i could think about was how her hands would feel without a camera, how she would feel pressed against the nearest wall, what she would taste like, how it would feel to crash my lips against hers right this moment—

“sunghoon! yn!”

i practically jumped, cursing whoever interrupted this sacred moment between me and her.

“you’re needed outside! come on!” someone shouted from the chaos outside.

reluctantly i stepped away from yn, immediately missing the feeling of having her so close to me.

i stared down at the ground, muttering something under my breath, feeling my fingers twitch in annoyance.

“i guess we should go.”

yn’s voice weaved into my mind like silk. as i looked up i was met with that inviting smile she always wore—the one that made me want to kiss her senseless.

“yeah..” i replied, that same stupid smile, the one she only ever saw, on my face.

“let’s go.”

———

silently, i gathered my things, my mind wandering back to the days earlier moments. the fact she didn’t move. the fact her scent still lingered even after all these hours. the fact she was all i could think about.

i slung my bag over my shoulder, camera hanging loosely around my neck as i walked casually towards the exit.

that was until i saw yn. stood at the exit. turning to face me. smiling at me.

fuck, i could already feel the heat spread throughout my body as i approached her, stopping a couple centimeters away from her.

“hey yn. you waiting for anyone?”

say no. say you aren’t. she couldn’t say yes. she was mine.

“yes actually!”

what bastard gets to keep her waiting? who was he? who did he think he was to keep my precious yn waiting?

“i was waiting for you! i figured we could walk home together.” she said, shyly looking away as she mentioned we could walk together.

my eyes widened, just for a moment, and i had to take a moment to gather myself.

“you’re waiting…for me?” i asked, still in disbelief.

she nodded.

“and you want to walk home with me?”

“that’s the goal.”

i was silent for a moment before i pulled myself together.

“yes, okay let’s go.” i nodded, clearing my throat awkwardly.

———

normally, the city at night was my haven, my sanctuary, my safe space. normally all i could focus on was the glow of the moon, the distant lights that twinkled from the cities windows, the hum of the engine from every car that passed by. normally i couldn’t tear my gaze away from the city. today, i couldn’t tear my gaze away from her.

her shoulder brushed mine, occasionally, and every single time i felt it, it sent a thrill through me so sharp it was almost painful. i’d memorized these streets. i’d memorized her steps. but tonight was different. tonight she was by my side, willingly.

she chose me to walk home with.

i stole glances when she wasn’t looking, watching the way the moonlight glowed against her skin, soft and silver like it had chosen only her to shine on, like she was under the night’s spotlight. the way her nose crinkled when she talked about something she was passionate about.

my camera swung around my neck with every step i took, my fingers aching to hold the weight of it in my hands, desperate to capture her in this perfect moment—but i didn’t need a photograph, it was already engraved into my memory, stored away for later use.

“sunghoon?” her voice pulled me out of my dazed thoughts, “you okay?”

i nodded, swallowing hard. i wasn’t okay—i was never okay when it came to her.

“you know,” i started, my voice lower than usual, “you shouldn’t walk home alone at night. it’s dangerous.”

she laughed lightly, kicking a loose pebble on the pavement, “that’s why i’m walking with you, isn’t it?”

it was quiet for a moment before she nodded.

“i suppose. there can be some creepy people around at this time.”

“creepy?” i said, raising an eyebrow, “sure. but no one would ever dare hurt you. not when i’m watching. they wouldn’t touch you. they wouldn’t even look at you.”

i paused, tilting my head slightly, letting the weight of my words settle.

“i wouldn’t let them.”

her grin only made it worse. the way she nudged me like it was some harmless joke.

“my hero,” she giggled.

if only she knew. i wasn’t saving her from the world. i was saving the world from her.

because she was mine. and i don’t share.

———

the studio was a mess the moment we walked in. lights half-assembled, makeup artists pacing in circles, and the frantic buzz of staff voices overlapping one another like a broken radio.

me and yn glanced at each other, weary eyes already tired and we don’t even know the reason for the mess.

i looked around, eyebrows twitching in mild annoyance—until i overheard the reason for the chaos.

“the model canceled last minute,” one of the assistants rushed by, nearly knocking into me, “we’re one short, sunghoon. the shoot can’t start without her.”

i sighed. of course she cancelled.

“she cancelled?” yn repeated in a hushed voice, speaking only to me, “does this happen often?”

“only when the models feel petty.” i groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“is there anyway we could help?” she asked.

before she spoke again, she swallowed nervously, like she was scared of what she was about to say.

“what is it?”

“do you think—i could replace the model?” she said hesitantly, looking up at me with those wide eyes that made me crazy.

before i could respond, another assistant rushed past us and then abruptly turned around.

“you!” she said, pointing at yn. my gaze hardened. what did she want with my yn?

“can you replace our model!? please! you look similar measurements and if i’m not too honest here, you look prettier, alright come on, you need to get changed!” the assistant rambled, quickly snatching yn out of my sight and into the modelling world.

i stood there, chewing my lip.

i had lost my apprentice, my yn, to a bunch of snobs who wanted to change her, try make her fit their ridiculous outfits like she wasn’t beautiful already.

but all of my thoughts disappeared when she appeared.

i felt as if time had stopped.

the dress. the fucking dress.

it wrapped around her like it was designed with her body in mind—clinging to every curve, slipping off one shoulder in a way that wasn’t accidental. her hair was slightly tousled, her lips tinted pink, her eyes soft but sharp as they flicked around, the once chaotic and now stunned, room. towards me.

i could barely swallow. my throat felt like sandpaper.

my fingers curled around the camera, knuckles turning white, chest tightening as the heat clawed its way through me, pooling in places i couldn’t control.

i stepped back, fast, clearing my throat.

“i’ll be back. i need... to check the light settings.”

a lie. the light was fine. everything was fine. except me.

i rushed out and fled to the nearest bathroom. in there i quickly splashed cold water onto my face, desperately trying to calm down. it was too late though as when i looked down there was already clear evidence of my arousal.

i groaned into my hands, rubbing at my face, feeling the heat throughout my body get only stronger.

fuck, fuck, fuck!

what was i going to do?

i couldn’t just go out there so everyone could see how hard i was, like a fucking animal in heat! what could i do?

“sunghoon! are you in there? we need you back out here!”

what was there to do?

i adjusted my jeans as much as possible, trying to hide my evident arousal, dried my face and took a deep breath.

forcing my expression blank, i walked back into the studio, trying to mask every inch of the storm raging inside me.

i should have run. the second i stepped back into the studio it was game over.

there she stood, under the lights, posing, the dress hugging her like sin, her eyes glancing toward the camera—toward me. like she already knew.

i shakily walked over and began instructing her, how to pose, her facial expressions, but i didn’t even have to. she looked beautiful either way.

i raised the camera, fingers shaking slightly, the weight of it grounding me for the smallest second.

click.

and then another.

click.

and another.

click.

each shot burned more than the last.

she didn’t know. but she was mine.

———

the studio finally emptied, the silence ringing in my ears louder than the chaos that happened less than two hours ago.

“yn.” i called her name, soft but firm.

she looked up, tilting her head slightly, strands of hair falling loose from behind her ear. god, even the way she looked at me made my thoughts spiral.

“do you mind staying a little longer?” i asked, trying to sound casual, even though my pulse was betraying me. “i still need to process the photos. dark room’s better when you’ve got an extra pair of hands.”

i waited, my heart heavy as she considered my words.

she nodded with a small smile, “sure.”

the two of us slipped into the dark room, the soft red light bathing her face in this surreal glow. the hum of the ancient lights above us filled the silence, sometimes broken by the occasional drip of developer fluid or the rustling of photographs.

i complied the photographs, treating them all with the same amount of care as the last, and gently placed them in the chemical trays, watching them bloom to life.

i could feel her beside me, close enough that her warmth radiated against my skin.

and then—her voice broke the quiet.

“...this one wasn’t part of the shoot.”

my stomach dropped. i turned, following her gaze to the photo she held between her fingers. the one i didn’t mean to leave out. the one i shouldn’t have printed.

it was her.

off-guard. smiling at an assistant. head tilted slightly. lips parted. eyes soft and distant—caught in a moment i couldn’t resist stealing during the shoot.

a moment only i had ever seen.

she stared at me, her expression unreadable as she opened her mouth to speak again.

“you kept this?” her voice came out quieter, more fragile.

i swallowed but my throat felt tight.

“why?” she whispered.

i couldn’t lie. not anymore.

“because you looked beautiful. you always do.” i murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. when she didn’t move, i took it as a sign to continue.

“i’ve taken a lot of pictures, yn. but none of them—not a single one—ever felt right. until you.”

i licked my lips, my gaze still focused on the ground.

“you were different. you made the photo more alive. you weren’t just my muse—you were the spark inside me that caused this.”

she blinked, lips trembling slightly, and her voice barely came out as a whisper, “why me?”

i let out a soft breath, fingers twitching at my side, resisting the urge to just touch her, pull her in.

“i don’t know. i never did, and i’ll probably never know. but i do know, that you yn, have ignited something inside of me, and i don’t think it’ll ever stop burning.”

he room felt smaller, her heartbeat syncing with mine, the air electric and heavy and impossibly intimate.

her fingers loosened around the photo, letting it fall back onto the table, before she slowly looked up at me—eyes dark, unreadable, but soft at the edges.

“sunghoon.” she whispered. my name had never sounded sweeter.

she took a step forward, closing the gap between us. “do you mean it? this isn’t some sick joke?”

“of course i mean it.”

“then kiss me sunghoon.”

the space between us disappeared before either of us could think. my hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in, and the second her lips met mine—i knew there was no going back.

the kiss wasn’t soft. it was desperate, hungry, full of every second i’d spent trying to resist her. my hands tangled into her hair, hers fisting the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, closer, until i could feel the way her chest pressed against mine, the way her lips parted for me so naturally like she was always meant to.

i pressed her against the closest wall, groaning against her lips, swallowing her little gasps and sighs.

as i pulled away, both panting for air, breath hot and heavy against each other, my hand instinctively clutched my camera, taking a picture of her.

breathless, lips swollen from my attack, perfect.

“mine.” i whispered, quickly forgetting about the camera and immediately pressing my lips against hers again.

#enhypen #fanfic #kpop #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #kpopfanfic #crazy sunghoon #obsessed sunghoon #reader ignores all red flags #enha #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon #park sunghoon #stalker sunghoon

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potato-lord-but-not · 5 months ago

Note

Guess who saved their money for months :3

I actually jumped for joy when I saw the envelope (which appearantly got ripped in transit, but nothing was lost thankfully <3)

The jhariah sticker wasn't on my original budget but I started listening to him around Christmas by your influence and just had to get one <3

ALSO‼️‼️

MY BABIES‼️‼️ I love them so much I will cherish these for the rest of my days <333

INSANE HAUL TYSM FOR SUCH A ROBUST ORDER 💥💥💥 I’m so glad you like them all!! and that they arrived safely despite the rough journey 🫶

#ask

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httpsserene-main · 11 months ago

Text

hi hi! this is another prompt list i made for hitting 3k. once again feel free to use this for your own writing needs if you'd like! please reblog, link, and credit me if you decide to use any of prompt(s) from this list !!! tysm < 333

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 — a list of situational (and a few dialogue) prompts for some fluffy and mildly-suggestive dating ideas ! it's soft-life coded, i think lol.

Trying and failing to stay awake while your partner is on the way home.

Getting up before you to make you both a cup of coffee/tea and gently wake you up.

Driving your car routinely to fill the tank, wash it, clean it out, etc.

Noticing when you're running out of certain products and restocking it without saying anything.

Learning how to do your hair.

Being able to sit in the same room in complete silence that doesn't feel awkward.

The glove box of their car becomes accumulated with items you leave behind.

Coming home one night to find out that you cleaned their entire house even though you don't live together yet.

Using your partner's phone and discovering a note that has all of your likes/dislikes/food orders etc. written.

Making sure you always exchange "I love you" 's and "be safe" 's before one of you has to leave.

Finding a photo album on their phone full of candid images of you.

Cooking your partners favorite meal just because.

"Can I kiss you?" "You know you don't have to ask me anymore, right?"

Scolding you for not wearing a jacket even though they told you to, multiple times.

Sighing and pouting loudly because you haven't paid them any attention.

Seeing something that you would like and buying the item in every color.

"I love you." "Damn, that's crazy."

Telling their family that they think they're going to marry you.

Staring at your lips when you talk.

Speaking to you in a softer tone of voice.

Playing with your hands or jewelry while they're focused on something else.

"You remember what I was wearing the first time we met?" "Of course I do!"

Noticing you picking up their mannerisms and slang.

Giving up their seat to let you sit or pulling you to sit on their lap.

Getting giggly and touchy when you do something they find cute.

Eagerly watching you hold a little fashion show after coming home from shopping.

Understanding when you're ready to leave an event without having to ask/be told.

Getting lost in your own conversation when hanging out with friends, and being roasted by the friend group for how in love you both are.

"Stop staring at my ass, please."

Falling asleep within minutes of you playing with their hair or scratching their back.

Getting flustered from extended eye-contact.

Exchanging flirty looks from across the room.

Becoming your shadow and following you around the entire day.

Asking you if you're okay with them going to hang out with their friends tonight, except they really want you to say no.

Making sure you always adjust/fix each others appearances when you notice something off.

#prompts #writing prompts #headcanon prompts #headcanons #fanfiction prompts #rp prompts #dialogue prompt #writing inspiration #writing prompt #writing ideas #fic prompt #fluff prompts #prompt lists.

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eustasskidagenda · 2 years ago

Text

anon asked: Hello you <3 your writing style is so smooth, I love it! So, I would like to ask you some smutty fruity juicy smut for Law my man, Kid (maybe it will make you accept this request more easily 😇), and Sanji. Something about how they would react after being teased all the day by their s/o, like bc she’s wearing some suggestives clothes or touching them in public etc. For a female reader, if possible. And regarding the kinks, do as you wish, I trust you with the result. Hope I made the request correctly and tysm for bringing our ideas to life <333 Oh, and you can add some more characters if you want! anon, please.

Hi there! Tysm for your kind words, I'm always a bit uncertain and unconfident when I have to write scenarios in other languages than my native one ;w; So, it means a lot to me ;w; I didn't add more characters bc you already pick two of my personal fav + my ultimate fav ♡. Anyway, the meal is ready, hope it will match your expectations, thank you for requesting!☆

☆Law, Kid & Sanji after being teased all the day by their s/o

CW (generals) : MDNI, f!reader, smut, teasing

WC : 3,3k

Law

CW : dirty talk, fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation (usage of 'slut'), panties stuffing (mouth)

What a foolish game to tease Law. You know that, don't you? Law could write a complete book about teasing and still have much to say regarding this topic, in fact. So, sure, go ahead and tease him. Taunt him with this short skirt, bend just in front of him to grab the book you "accidentally" let fall, and try to annoy him while he's working in his office. He won't show anything, always keeping his cold and serious attitude in front of others. Law is pretty good when it comes to controlling himself. But inside, oh damn, his blood is boiling with pure desire to make you pay. Law is not one to let things fall, so he wants to avenge and he will do so.

And we all know Law is the king of shenanigans. While working, he would imagine a cruel scenario that would make you turn into a moaning, whimpering, and wet mess. He would keep thinking about it the entire day, holding back a mischievous grin as you continue to tease him.

In fact, he thinks you're cute. You're putting in a lot of effort to tease him, but you have no knowledge about this topic. But it's fine, he'll teach you how it's done soon enough.

Despite your attempts to annoy him, he's still working even though it's almost midnight. Even so, you enter his office once more, sitting at his desk, throwing his papers away. And you're wearing a really short skirt, one of his favorites. Slowly, you cross your legs, showing him the panties you're wearing under: again, one of his favorites. "Law, I'm bored" you whine, with wet puppy eyes.

And now the fun begins. Law would use his DF to 'room, shamble' you into your shared bedroom. Obviously, he would also lock the door from a distance. All you can do is wait for him. He won't let you go soon. He would continue working, taking pleasure in the silence and picturing your pitiful whines.

After maybe two hours, he would finally join you, slowly opening the door to find you lying on the bed, all bored and eagerly waiting for the long wait. As you attempt to jump into his arms and say 'Law, you're here!', he would scowl mad at you and take off his hat without any consideration for you.

The aura surrounding him would only radiate anger and eagerness. "Get on the bed." And this is not a suggestion or a nice request coming out of his mouth, but an order. He rarely commands that directly, but when he does, you better obey really quickly. Honestly, you know it's not time to act like a brat anymore, so you should comply.

First thing first, Law would tie your wrists. "A naughty girl like you doesn't deserve to touch me." With that sentence, he would slowly remove his shirt, taking his time, playing with the buttons, and eventually revealing his bare tattooed chest. The one you love to fondle, kiss, bite, and even leave hickeys on.

You're already squirming, anticipating being touched, anticipating intimacy with him, anticipating his skin touching yours. "Is there something wrong, y/n-ya?" Ah, yes. He would really take his time, slowly sliding his shirt down the ground, and running his beautiful tattooed hands through his hair.

As you writhe, your short skirt goes up your thighs, revealing your panties that are already wet. "You're such a pathetic slut. You need me so badly already, y/n-ya?"

He would simply observe how your underwear is becoming more and more wet. He hasn't touched you yet. It doesn't matter if you squirm and beg, he won't care. You did that to yourself. You can try to untie yourself if you want, you're tightly tied.

"Please Law, I'm sorry! I need you so bad! "

" And you decided to tease me all the damn day to get my attention? You're such an eager slut. Now shut up and take it."

Law would love to sit on the edge of the bed, close to you, but not enough to allow you to touch his skin. He would make you feel his presence, enjoying all of your pathetic whistling. And after a certain time, finally, without a word, he would run his skilled fingers along your body, touching you everywhere, avoiding your inner thighs in purpose. The more you contort and arch your back, the more he will tease you. He loves how you crave for his touch.

As tears of frustration start to prickle at the corner of your eyes, he would roughly pinch your nipple. "Something wrong, y/n-ya?" He's tricky because if you beg for more, of course, he won't obey. And if you keep quiet, he would continue to torture your body, waiting for your answer. "That's how we tease someone, y/n-ya."

His hands would slowly, slowly, taking off your skirt and then, he would hook his thumbs under your panties, sliding them down your legs, inch by inch, revealing your bare pussy and damped folds to his eyes. "Law… I" And brutally, he would stuff your wet panties in your mouth. "Nice girls are the only ones allowed to speak."

Your muffled complains would be pure music to his ears. He would continue to tease you, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower-stomach. Finally, sliding along your slit. "You're soaking wet for absolutely nothing." Oh, he would love to watch how your dripping core is aching, clenching around nothing, before slowly rubbing his fingers along your pussy.

"You're making a mess on the bedsheets. You better clean them right after I'm done with you. "

He would push one finger into your pussy while you moan, your mouth still full of your own panties. Law is truly talented, even with just one finger. " One finger. That's all you deserved."

His middle finger, which is nicely curled, would hit all your sweet spots when he circles your clit with his thumb. He would love to watch you trying to get more friction, more of him, more of his fingers. But he won't comply.

He would be painfully slow, thrusting his finger in and out of your body at an unrealistic slow pace, before brutally pushing in, and then, nice and slow again. Yes, it's frustrating, it makes you tense yourself in anticipation, and it's precisely what he's looking for.

"See, I've told you one finger would be enough" as you cum violently all around his middle finger, making a mess on the bedsheets, with shivering thighs, shaky breath and pathetic whimpers.

"I'm not done yet."

Before sliding two fingers inside you. He would continue to rub your clit, hitting all your sweet spots, making you squirm on the bed as you try to untie yourself. But there is nothing you can do. You're sentenced to take more of his fingers, to cum again and again, your sensitive pussy aching and clenching.

Then, he would take off his fingers, licking his tattoos covered in your wetness. And if you dare sigh of relief, he would slowly run his fingers along the length of his cock through his pants.

"Oh, y/n-ya, you're here for a long, long night."

Kid

CW : Degradation, rough sex, fingering, dirty talk, v!sex, spanking, hair pulling, slight choking, Kid has a filthy mouth, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mention of anal sex

The master of rough sex.

Kid has absolutely no patience or self-control, and absolutely hates being teased. Whenever you tease him, his honest reaction is to grab you roughly by the wrist, pin you against the closet wall, and just fuck you roughly from behind. He doesn't give a damn if it's in a public place.

But today is different because he can't have his fun with you. That damn reunion for the 'alliance thing' that he agreed to because of Killer is way too long, and you're teasing him under the table by rubbing your feet against his cock. Or showing him that you're wearing your red panties, his favorite ones. The poor Kid would hold onto the table, his phalanx white due to the intense effort he's making to maintain his composure.

Don't you dare think about his thoughts right now, because all he can imagine is you being fucked roughly like the little slut you are

The moment the meeting is over, he would try to grab your hips and fuck you immediately. If you manage to escape his grip, sticking out your tongue to mock him before running to the Victoria Punk, oh, damn, you're doomed.

Kid would waste no time looking after you, with clenched fists and gritted teeth. No one would dare approach him because, honestly, his anger is wrapping him up like an aura. And we all know how Kid deals with annoying people.

He would slam the door of your shared bedroom angrily. Kid would be even madder if you lie on the bed, giggling and pleased with your mischiefs. "Think you're funny, fuckin’ woman?" The way he spits his words in your face is quite frightening. Now, you're not laughing anymore. "'Gonna fuckin' ruin ya"

That's all your waiting for, right?

With sloppy moves, he would let his coat fall on the ground, take off his shirt, and throw his boots away. Before ripping all of your clothes, including your panties, and crawling onto the bed, his impressive figure looming over you. He would shamelessly use his large metallic arm to crush you onto the mattress. The prosthetic hand would hold your upper body, with two metallic fingers around your throat and the rest wrapping around your waist. "Stay fucking still, slut."

As you squirm and start to moan, turned on by how dominant he's acting right now, he would scowl angrily. "Stop bein' so fuckin' loud" with a rough slap on your inner thighs.

He would love to watch how you look, pinned down and totally helpless. All you can do is take all of him. He would make you spread your legs, pushing your knees away, and force them to touch the bed sheets in a matting press position.

The sensation of fitting your small body between his muscular thighs would be immensely attractive to Kid. He would slam roughly two thick fingers into your soaking wet pussy without any warning or consideration, hitting all your sweet spots. The only thing you're allowed to do is take it. You won't be going anywhere. Not with his metallic hand holding you still.

As you moan and beg for more, he would laugh mockingly. "Shut the fuck up, slut." Without a word, he would take off his fingers covered in your wetness and force them into your mouth. "Suck them clean."

He would probably make you gag and drool a bit, forcing his fingers down your throat, enjoying how tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. "Thought it would be funny to fuckin' mess with me?"

After taking off his fingers, he would roughly flip you over on your stomach. "Ass up. Chest down. Now." And, as you comply, he would smash your head against the pillow, forcing your back to arch until your spine hurts.

Kid would spank you with his heavy hand. The flesh one. Leaving red marks on your cheeks and spreading them apart brutally to watch your tight pussy clenching desperately around nothing. "You're just a fuckin slut, Y/N, gettin’ soaked just for some fingering."

Quickly, he would slide down his pants, just enough to free his large cock, leaking in pre-cum, throbbing and twitching with impatience. Then, slamming his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside you, and bullying your cervix with his thick length. "Take it all." As you cry out from how good he's filling you up.

"Shut the fuck up" burying your head violently against the pillow if you start to moan. And if you continue to muffle, cry out, and whimpers, Kid would wrap his large hand around your throat, squeezing roughly, silencing you.

He would slam his cock so hard, making your ass jiggle with each thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your wet pussy, with a sloshing, obscene sound. He would make sure you feel helpless under his control, enjoying how your breath becomes shallow and labored as you struggle to get enough air through your nose. "Don't fuckin' mess with me, Y/N. Never."

He would love to watch how your inside is swallowing his cock, burying himself so deep that it feels like he's pounding your very core.

"You keep sucking me in, you like my cock that much, lil slut?"

The headboard slamming against the wall would cause the bed to creak. With his hand, Kid could either slap your ass or hold you still. And sure, his eyes would be glued to his cock, sliding roughly in and out of you, glistening, all covered by your wetness.

As he pounded into you at a breaking-spine pace, he would grunt loudly and shamelessly, sweat dripping down his face. "Cry out for me all you want, fuckin' whore."

He would pull you back onto his cock with each thrust, almost tearing you in half. He would use his exceptional stamina to his advantage, plowing into you repeatedly and showing no signs of slowing down. He won't stop if you don't use your safe word for a rough session.

"Who's fuckin' you so well?"

His ego would be immensely satisfied if you keep shooting his name.

His hand would grab your hair, pulling it roughly, almost breaking your neck, forcing you to look at him while he fucks you. Squeal for him, cry for him under his unforgiving pace. That's all he wants. "I don't even know why I'm fuckin' you. A slut like you doesn't deserve my cock."

He would continue until your mind starts to melt into nothingness, leaving bruises all over your skin. Your moans and his low, animalistic grunts would fill the rooms. As you cum all around his cock, he would slap your ass, keep thrusting, and overstimulate you. And brutally, he would cum inside of you, his body shaking with the force of his release. After a few more sloppy thrusts, he would pull out, his member sliding out of you with a loud plop, followed by a large amount of white sticky fluid leaking out of you.

"Keep it in, slut."

Slowly, his thumb would find its way to your asshole. "This hole deserves some attention too, right, slut?"

Good luck, you just awake a wild beast. He would be delighted to observe your struggle to walk the next morning. That's what you get for teasing him. No one messes with Eustass Kid.

Sanji

CW : oral sex , fingering (reader receiving), slight food play, squirting, v!sex, Sanji is talking in French here and there

Okay, but Sanji is almost always turned on by your simple presence. Our poor Sanji would struggle to even breathe if you decided to tease him. His eyes would always be glued to your every move. He would smoke more than usual, attempting to resist the urge to lift this beautiful dress and devour you.

Honestly, he would assume that you're angry with him. "Have I done something wrong today, Y/N?" With wet puppy eyes.

Poor Sanji would be even more confused if you start laughing playfuly and lift up your dress slightly, revealing the elegant lace panties you're wearing today. He would struggle to cook, almost burn the dinner for the crew because his mind would be so dizzy. Oh, he would sacrifice everything to eat you out right here, right now, in front of anyone.

Sanji would cough loudly as you continue to tease him under the table during the diner with the rest of the crew. And once everyone has left the kitchen, Sanji would waste no time locking the door and just grabbing your hips and sitting you on the table.

Let's remember the broken plates with a minute of silence.

"J'ai tellement besoin de toi, Y/N" (I need you so bad)

He would also ask you what he has done wrong today, and as you laugh and reply 'nothing, I just wanted to tease you,' Sanji would be relieved. "If my pretty girlfriend is needy, then, I have to take care of her. Je vais bien m'occuper de toi." (I gonna take care of you)

Sanji would use the environment to his advantage and cover your body with black chocolate, slowly licking your breasts covered in the warm liquid. "Tasting so good…"

He would eat and treasure every inch of your skin, sucking on your nipples, pinching them slowly between his thumb and index finger while sucking on the other. Sanji is eager to please you and is happy to finally touch you after a long day of teasing.

He's a starving person, he would never be able to tease you back or just ignore you.

Sanji would slowly slide your panties down your legs. At the sight of your bare pussy, his cock would roughly press against the fabric of his pants.

He would treat you like a queen even if you've been teasing him for the entire day. After all, you are his queen and you deserve the best.

While you remained on the table, he would ask "Are you comfortable?" and then kneel down and gently run his hands along your inner thighs. He would slowly bury his head between your legs. Being between your thighs is his favorite place. Pure heaven for Sanji.

Sanji, the oral sex king, would take his time, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, slowly approaching your soaking wet pussy. "My pretty girl is so needy."

He would eat you out by using his skills to make you moan his name loudly. Please grasp his hair and press his head harder against your lips. When you use him for your own pleasure, he loves it. His tongue flicking against your clit, he would smoothly slide two long fingers inside of you, curling them deeply inside of you.

Sanji doesn't need anything but his skillful mouth and hands to make you feel good. Your responsiveness is something he loves. He would love to feel your legs wrapped around him as he continues to drink all of your juice as if it were a glass of red wine.

With a gentle touch, he would intensify the passion, his tongue licking harder at your clit, and his fingers perfectly curled against all your sweet spots. Although he's patient, he's also battling against his own urge to take off his pants and slide his cock deep into your hot and wet pussy.

He would look at you, enjoying how your face is twisted in nothing but pure ecstasy. "You're always making the prettiest noises for me" before returning back to his duty: making you cum.

And that's what you do, squeezing his head between your thighs, grabbing a full hand of blond hair, cumming hard against his lips and around his fingers nicely curled inside you.

Sanji would drink all of your juice, continue to eat you out, until you cum again. And again. You teased him all the day, now, he can't get enough of you. He wants more, he needs more. He would leave you with your legs shaking and turn you into a pathetic whiny mess. "Too much!" He would continue until you squirt on his face, your mind so dizzy that you can't feel your own orgasms anymore.

Finally, he would stop, licking his lips and glistening with your wetness. "Tu es si bonne, je ne peux pas m'arrêter." (You taste so good, I just can't stop.)

He would not expect you to return the favor. But it would be cruel to leave him with an uncomfortable erection. You're not cruel. Right?

If you decide to let him slide his cock inside you, he would moan so loudly and shamelessly. The prettiest moans. You just feel so good.

He would fuck you on the table, in all the positions, worshipping every single inch of your body until you're both exhausted.

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bunny-jpeg · 11 months ago

Note

Hello Bunny!! I'm not too sure if you do works based on pro wrestling. But if you did, I'd love love love if you did something for Maxwell Jacob Friedman (AEW). Feel free to totally delete if you don't want to do it or know nothing about it!

If you do accept it, I'd love s'mores, belgian waffles with a side of dark hot chocolate and bubble tea! (I hope you can see my vision!)

Tysm <333 - 🤼

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? hit up the menu! c'mon, it doesn't bite! i accept prompts from across many fandoms and i'll do whatever at this point. as for this lovely anon, thank you for submitting a prompt! i know sometimes it can be a bit confusing about sending outside of the traditional fandoms. but honestly, i'm willing to dig my hands into figuring out how to put this together! so thank you! enjoy!!

and feel free to check out the master-list!

s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + dark hot chocolate (sub!reader) + bubble tea (daddy kink) served by maxwell jacob friedman (aew/wrestling)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mean & cocky!mjf (duh), rough sex, daddy kink, sub/dom dynamics, dirty talk, voice kink, face-fucking/oral sex

you'd never consider maxwell a bully. even when he got in your face, you always tried to stand toe-to-toe with him. there was something about him, something that drove you to want to push him to the limit.

but if you bit, then maxwell returned the favour til it broke bone.

"The accent gets to you, doesn't it?" he said with all smiles, pointed and venomous. his face close to yours, if things were more softer, then the scene might have been intimate.

instead you pushed him away by the forehead and replied, "honestly. your voice is the reason why the rest of the world thinks americans are stupid." you'd grow to regret your words.

"you are so cute when you squirm." he shook his head, a smile on his lips as he leaned a little forward to get a better look at you, "sometimes a girl's gotta know her place, huh? making a sick joke out of me in front of everyone else."

he loomed over you like a storm cloud as you knelt between his legs. your mouth stuffed full of his cock as you tried to keep it together. his hand was in your hair, forcing you to go down further.

"i should really start going around and saying '"i cum in that every night.' because i don't want people to get the wrong idea about you. oh poor you, dealing with me every day." he gave you a look of faux sympathy, "they probably think you're the one who pulls my leash. no, no. you have it all wrong." he pushed up into your throat a little more, "i have you on a short leash, don't i, baby girl? you like when daddy yanks on it a little too hard. you like getting choked, and don't you deny it." your gaze met with his and drool coated your chin. you couldn't even speak back.

perfectly at maxwell's mercy.

he continued to rub his cock up against the back of your throat. it felt good, he had spent many months trying to face fuck the gag reflex out of you. and it seemed to be working.

"see, you look better like this, angel. on your knees, my cock in your throat. quiet. you always look better when you're not being a snappy little bitch." he groaned as he continued to fuck your throat. he hissed through his teeth as he kept his gaze on your head.

your eyes were closed, but he knew that they were a bit dewy. someone can only choke on cock for so long before they start to cry. as was the nature of things.

you gagged a little bit, but maxwell just pushed a little farther. you gripped onto his knees. your nose buried in his pubic hair, when you inhaled, you took in the scent of his sweat. which both disgusted you, but also made you slick between your legs.

maxwell was the kind of domineering that left you with aches and pains. he liked when his smacks across your ass made the flesh shake or when his hands made a pretty necklace around your delicate throat. the bulkiness of him pressed down on you to keep you pinned under him.

he moved you to his liking, twisting up his baby girl in a way that got him off. but don't worry angel, daddy would make it all better in the end.

he took your mouth off his cock for a moment and gazed at your blissed out expression. even your tongue hung out of your mouth a little. the sight made him chuckle, "see, you can be a good girl for daddy. i'm so proud... now why don't you prove yourself to me and finish me off." then leaned back into the couch. he patted his thigh, "c'mon. if you're gonna act like a brat and talk back to me. then i gotta bruise that little throat of yours so you keep quiet." he smiled at you and you felt pleasure lick at your gut.

if anyone saw and heard what you two were doing. the sickening words that maxwell was filling with your head. then it would definitely raise some eyebrows. but you swallowed and rubbed your bare thighs together.

for you, it was hot.

you got your mouth back on his cock and didn't even flinch when the blunt tip of his cock hit against the back of your throat. you made a small whimpering nose and maxwell hissed through his teeth.

"pretty fucking thing. yeah, you like this don't you? you like when guys who could crush you fuck your throat until they get their sick kicks. i bet i could throw you to the rest of them and you'd be happy to let them fuck you into next week." he clutched onto your hair, "but too bad for you, slut. because you're not going anywhere."

not that you wanted to. you were perfectly content with this bared fang sexual experience. you let him throat fuck you and you held onto his legs. you tried to keep up, but it was hard.

maxwell's pace was erratic and it made flashes appear in the back of your head. he knew he was close. he could feel the tightness in his gut as he continued to bully his cock into your mouth.

"dirty girl. fucking dirty girl. just take me nice and good, okay? take care of your daddy and he'll make everything else better. okay? can you do that for me." he groaned as his pace became more erratic.

he knew he'd have the rest of the night with you. by the end of it, it would be more than your throat that was bruised. he gave it a few heavy thrusts before he came down your throat.

you made a small noise as you tried to swallow it all down and maxwell stilled to a stop. he kept his cock in your mouth for a moment, letting it rest on your tongue. he wished his phone was near by, he'd love to make his lockscreen a picture of you like that.

he rubbed your cheek with more affection than anything else the entire night. he took his cock out of your mouth and watched you rest your cheek against his thick thigh.

his dewy eyed little princess. it was almost cute. he patted your cheek and said, "alright, let's got you up. come here, come to daddy." he said as he helped you into his lap. so naked and vulnerable.

you rested up against his chest and gasped for hair. having a limited supply for so long made it all a bit too much. but yet you were soaked against his strong thigh.

maxwell promised he'd make it all better. he wasn't a monster, he'd always make sure that his baby girl was alright. <3

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