#a lonely fucking potato
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wandercr · 12 days ago
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im actually pretty obsessed with her im ngl
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slutypotato · 1 year ago
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I'M A FUCKING POTATO
please sleep with me
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boiipotato · 2 years ago
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Years without fiscal contact from anyone other than my family has been shit.
I feel like some troll under a bridge but really I'm a confident guy, and I know I'm cute.
But being cute isn't enough for everyone,
It's what can you do for me, When it should be what can we do for each other?
I just feel like I have this big stupid giant heart with emotions, that has no time to waste, I can't cut to the chase fast enough cause my words come out slow when my brain is moving fast. I feel like I was dead before I lived.
Sorry for wasting your time
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thatdemiboymess · 8 months ago
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Turning up the music to max volume and laying facedown on the bed because the mental health has hit rock bottom like DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT--
Thoughts of self harm and maybe suicidal ideation in the vent in the tags. Sorry.
#irl#vent#self harm mention#self harm#i am not having a good time today at all chat#my brain is giving me the itchy little localized signals in my wrists that are connected to the Bad Thoughts and Horrible Coping Mechanisms#and like honestly i feel like i should be fine but im not#shit sucks#almost started crying because i realized i forgot to grab some new exfoliating gloves while i was at the store#gonna be eating nothing but ramen and potatoes this month#im lonely and life feels like a really shitty time loop and im probably never gonna be able to get my cats and bring them here#because i need to somehow manage to save up $500 just for oet deposit and pet rent#when everything is month to month to month#i dont have any friends and i dont talk to my family and i sincerely feel like i could die and the only person that would know would be#my partner and even then thats because we live together#and when i do finally die its not like anyone will have known me#people that i should or used to be close with will find out eventually and theyll all call me by a name that isnt mine#using pronouns and words and descriptors that misrepresent me as a person#ect ect ECT#whatever#like whats even the point honestly????#i dont know what im doing here i just feel like a huge burden to everyone around me#dssi is barely enough for groceries but its not like i can get a job near me being legally blind#im just a big ol burdensome money sink lolol#just an overly needy little waste of space#i dunno#i dont know shit anymore#im so fucking tired all the time man#im just#so tired
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gremlingottoosilly · 18 days ago
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I know this page now is filled with Mafia König, and Monster König, and Slasher König, but it was revealed to me in a dream- Executioner König. Apparently, (though I don't have a source) given that the profession often met with isolation, which obviously made it hard to find a bride. Some executioners if they weren't married already, could pardon a woman prisoner if she agreed to marry him. Now enter, all in white, Reader that has commited an unspecified crime. It's still enough to be on death row for it. But Konig, seeing her, just can't let such a pretty thing die. He's lonely, and not getting any younger....
Cut to Reader confused later in life how her life from stealing or conning went to cooking potatoes and warming his bed at night while he's busy ripping someone's intestines out.
(plus fucking Reader in a pillory as a treat)
You prayed every night. They gave you a week before the execution - threw you in a cold basement, dampened your feet in water, and waited until you begged for the sentence to come faster. They couldn't - the royal executioner was out on the road from another city, and they couldn't have a royal maid to be killed by some commoner. You thought you'd have time to let them know how you didn't do what you did - how you were innocent all along if only crime for protecting yourself. No one listened, of course. The royal executioner has cold hands, and you can almost feel them preparing for the torture. This is what he is going to do, you think - put you in a pillory, slowly rip you from inside out. A fitting punishment is to dump your common blood so everyone can see just how much of a filth you are. Konig knows he has a right to you - a royal maid, probably framed. Maybe you are guilty- but he looked at your wide eyes and tear-stained face, and he didn't really care. You have soft legs and nice hips, a body that even prisoner's rags couldn't hide. You'd give him nice, fat babies - about a litter of them, poor bastard living with their father's profession. Daughters never get married, and sons get themselves wives in a similar fashion. Konig draps a hand over your thighs, under the rags - you're filthy, but he never minded. Can clean you up after, make you a wife. Honest woman, getting clean with his cock lodged deep in your cunt. He always liked girls from the royal district - clean, fresh, looking small like dolls on their fast legs. Like deers in the forest, except that he can now get himself one. Like catching a forest nymph. You don't even whimper as he drags a hand over your pussy, fingering you slowly - learned his way with brothel girls, always too nervous to actually do something, but also too horny not to. No one would be with an executioner willingly, so he would fuck you until heaven and the crown would forgive you and then would put a nice ring on your finger. Drag you to his house and made you his made - and his princess, too. Would buy you a dozen little goose feather pillows and a soft blanket from a foreign merchant so your body would forget the cold and the depth of the dungeon. He knows you'd be a good housewife because you managed to work in a castle - he doesn't care if it was the lower quarters if you only worked with other servants. He calls you a princess in bed and gets expensive cuts of lamb to cook. You burn your first one, roasting it too much, not knowing how to deal with meat if it's not made from scraps - and he ate it anyway, nuzzling his face into your breasts later as if asking for seconds. Puts a baby in you two months after the wedding. Haggles with merchants for soothing herbs and tortures 5 people per day for a bigger cut of what was in their pockets. Gets you a really nice bracelet out of some poor merchanting bastard, and you wore it like a shackle, your hands still trembling lightly when embracing him. The smell of your hair makes him forget about blood, and he clings to your body like a dog whenever he is home. Konig couldn't be happier.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)
Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!
thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k
"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 
"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."
You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 
It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 
Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 
"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 
"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 
"Do you have any water?" 
He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"
"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 
"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 
You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 
Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 
Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 
"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 
"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 
"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 
"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 
"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 
You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 
"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.
You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 
You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 
"She's coming around," Hotch says. 
Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 
"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 
You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 
"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 
"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 
"No, you sound funny." 
"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 
"She's okay," Hotch says. 
You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 
"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 
"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 
You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 
"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 
"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.
"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."
"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 
"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 
"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 
"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 
"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 
Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 
You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.
"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 
"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 
Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 
"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 
"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"
"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 
"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 
Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 
Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 
"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 
Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 
You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 
"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 
If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 
You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 
He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 
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barleyo · 5 months ago
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Rural Bliss.
Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing
Wordcount: 1.8k
!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!
Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.
Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 
What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 
Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 
The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 
"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 
You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 
He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 
"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.
"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."
"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 
"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.
He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 
"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."
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Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.
Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.
He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.
"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 
His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 
He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 
What was wrong with you? 
Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.
You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.
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Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 
You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 
He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.
You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.
That type of thinking brought him here. 
"Daddy, please..."
The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 
He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.
He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 
"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 
He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 
"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.
"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 
He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.
"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."
That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.
He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 
Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 
He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 
"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 
"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."
His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 
Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.
"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.
As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 
You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.
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realcube · 4 months ago
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mornings with tsukishima are always interesting.
he gets weekends off, but you still have to work on saturday. meaning that on sunday mornings, he is able to get up early and rises with the sun, meanwhile you want nothing more than a nice, long sleep in.
although he would never admit it, tsukishima loves spending his day with you and gets a bit lonely and bored having to spend sunday mornings without you. he has no issue with you wanting to sleep in, in fact you deserve it more than anyone, but now it's 11AM. that is just ludicrousness! if you sleep any longer, the whole day together will be virtually gone.
that's what he tells himself as he makes his way to your shared bedroom and draws the curtains wide open, so the harsh sunlight pierces your eyes, causing you groan. instinctually you flip yourself over so you are facing away from the window.
he smirks at this and tugs at your shoulder, "rise and shine, buttercup." normally that would be sweet thing to hear as you wake up, but tsukishima says it in the most mocking tone possible.
frowning, you jerk away from his touch, "no.."
he chuckles at your complaint and prods your cheek, "yes. it's almost 12PM." he lies, looking at the clock on your bedside table that clearly says 11.13AM, "most functioning members of society have already woke up, got dressed, had breakfast and gone to work. and you're still in bed."
"i was a functioning member of society yesterday. let me be a potato today." you whimper, dearly clutching the bedsheets and using them to sheild your eyes from the bright rays of sunlight. so cute, he thinks to himself. it pained him to disturb you like this; a part of him wanted to let you stay in bed all snug and cozy, and sleep to your heart's content.
but the bigger part of him missed you greatly, and also loved to tease and annoy you. "no. get up." he yanked the blanket off you, to which you gasped as the cold air washed over your exposed figure. you pout, without the energy to try and wrestle the dvuet back, you instead curl up in an attempt to preserve body heat. "fuck off, kei!" you yell.
"to where? you're in my house." techincally 'our' house, but he called it his own for dramatic effect.
"to the cosmetics clinic for a facelift." you spat, body trembling under the nippy air, but eyelids still heavy as you try to drift back off to sleep.
"yeah. maybe while i'm there i can ask about getting you an attitude transplant." he rolls his eyes, throwing the covers back over you, to which you sigh from relief. he couldn't stand seeing you so vulnerable and shivering, even if you were just playing it up.
angry and defeated, he rushes over to the door while saying, "this is what i get for wanting to spend the morning with you."
"kei.." you whine, outstretching your arm from underneath the covers, doing a grabbing motion at him, "come here."
he exhaled out his nose and walked up to your side of the bed, crossing his arms as he stood next to you, gazing down at your sleepy face. he tried to exhibit his best scowl but seeing your half-lidded eyes and cheeks flushed with morning warmth forced a small smile to creep over his lips. "what?"
you pat the space beside you on the bed, and whisper, "cuddle."
your heavy eyes slowly fell closed, as your cheek was pressed against the silk pillowcase and strands of your hair fell into your face. he didn't move or say a word, until he gently tucked the stray stands behind your ear, subtly caressing your cheek with his thumb as he did so.
how'd he get so lucky, he wonders, getting to sleep beside the prettiest person on earth every single night. perhaps that is something he takes for granted, sometimes.
but not today. he walks over to the other side of the bed and climbs on, shuffling over so he right behind you, then he slips an arm around your waist.
with his face pressed against the back of your hair, you feel him smile against your skin when you move your hand to interlock fingers with his.
you'd apologise for telling him to fuck off, and he would say he's sorry for trying to wake you up, but neither of you really had to. with the he holds you close in his firm hold, and the way you melt into his touch, it's needless to say you love each other.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago
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Imagine pretty boy Steve trapped in a mirror for his vanity.
Except he grows as a person so much that his sole purpose becomes boosting self-esteem of everyone looking into the mirror (unless they're being an asshole in which case, bye any semblance of personal worth).
"Looking great, Dustin, go and get them! Oh wait, move your tie slightly to the left, that's it, good job buddy, go go go!"
"Seriously Robin, there's no way your lady isn't all over you the moment you step in that restaurant. Did you wear smudge-proof lipstick? Time to test it."
"No, Nance, it's not weird to ask your ex-boyfriend if you look presentable, I mean, who else is better qualified? Good choice of dress for the interview, you're going to ace it."
"El, it doesn't matter how long your hair is. Yeah, it was so pretty, but it will grow back. But you know what else? You have gorgeous eyes, a wonderful smile and the way you say "mouth-breather" is everything. As long as you have that smile you'll be the prettiest girl around, so don't you dare worry about it."
"Mike, stop looking like someone stepped in your birthday cake, you're a handsome young man and Will is going to love the new haircut. If I'm wrong, feel free to come back and spread mustard all over my frame, but I've yet to be wrong. Yeah, you're a bit of an asshole too, now go and get your boy!"
"Joyce, you're as beautiful as always, but from what I know about Hopper, he'd think you're the most beautiful person alive if you were wearing a potato sack. But this dress is perfect and you look so happy. I wish you all the best on your date!"
"Yeah Jason, looks aren't the issue here...nothing I can do to help you all the ugly stuff on the inside buddy. Sure, smash the mirror if you want - good luck by the way, it's fucking cursed for a reason - but that won't make the truth hurt less, huh?"
And then Eddie accidentally steps in front of him and Steve has never seen anyone so unaware of his own beauty. And Eddie seems to be the only one apart from Robin who realizes how lonely he sometimes gets so he often takes Steve with him no matter where he goes (the big van is handy) and Steve makes sure to shower him with compliments, gradually finding exactly the right doses and right words to make Eddie understand how special he is, how radiant his smile looks, how he's so animated when he talks about things he loves-
And on the day when Eddie looks into the mirror and finally sees himself just as Steve sees him, the mirror cracks and Steve falls out, disoriented and kind of terrified, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-?!
But Eddie just smiles at him and hugs him, the first human touch in such a long time it makes Steve tear up. "Finally!" exclaims Eddie and pulls him even closer. "No shame at all Stevie, but that frame was fucking heavy!"
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lacroixwh0r3 · 1 year ago
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In a Good Way
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Farmer!Abby Anderson x Housewife!Reader
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Summary: You help Abby relax after a long day on the farm.
Warnings: SMUT!! a little bit of fluff, oral (a recieving), fingering (a recieving), hair pulling, kissing, mommy kink, orgasm denial, petnames, switch!Abby, switch!reader, squirting, spit, overstimulation, and a lil degradtion
Song inspo: Kingston by Faye Webster
A/N: I tried to keep it sweet and cute and then I just completely went off the rails with this...oops!
Also I hit 700 followers on here...wtf thank y'all so much! it is so amazing to be able to share my stuff on here.
And ofc, like, share, reblog, and comment.
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Abby had finally finished up the last thing she needed to do around the farm before she headed back home. When she looked at the time on her phone, she realized that she was going to get home early.
As soon as she pulled up to the driveway of her home that she shared with you, her excitement grew. Abby knew that you were most likely cooking some delicious meals for dinner as well as dessert to have afterwards. She hated having to leave you all alone in the house while she was away working. Every morning at 7 a.m., she got dressed for the day, and you would lay in bed looking and beg her to stay even though you knew she couldn't. She would tell you how much she wishes she could, then place a soft kiss on your lips and make her way out the door.
Oh, but the look on your face when she got home made it all worth it to Abby.
When she left, you found things to do around the house to occupy your time. Some days you would clean around the house, make a quick trip to the local farmers market to pick up some things, read, paint your nails, or count down the hours until your wife got home.
You have to admit that it was sometimes lonely when Abby wasn't around, but you didn't really mind it. She tried to encourage you to go out and make some friends, but you refused. You were never good at making friends, and you were okay with being alone. Being alone allowed you to have time to do whatever you wanted without being judged by other people.
Abby calls out your name but gets no response. However, she did hear the sound of soft music playing from the kitchen and you singing along beautifully. The smell of whatever you were cooking made Abby extra hungry as she tiptoed her way to you.
"I didn't know that I was capable of being happy right now, But you showed me how"
She stopped at the door and noticed that your back was turned to her as you swayed your body and stirred the pot.
Behind you, you could hear the familiar sounds of Abby's heavy boots coming up behind you slowly. You try to hold back a giggle because you know she is trying to scare you. You could feel her body close behind you as you kept on moving your hips softly to the beat.
"Hey, baby," You say with your back still facing her.
"How the fuck do you do that? I can never get you," Abby playfully scoffs as she brings her hands onto your hips and presses her body onto yours. Both of you were now swaying together to the beat of the song.
"Because I know you and all your tricks, abbs," You chuckle. "You can never scare me." Abby lets out a soft hum as she kisses the back of your neck and up to the back of your ear. You leaned your head to the side, allowing her better access as your body relaxed into hers and your eyes closed.
"You make me wanna cry in a good way"
"I missed you so fucking much, baby." She whispers into your ear. You shivered as Abby's hands began to move toward your stomach, pulling you further into her hard body.
"I miss you too, sweetheart," you breathe out dreamily. You had missed Abby so much today that all you wanted to do was stay in her arms forever. "I was thinking about you all day." Abby places a kiss on your ear.
"Mm, yeah? My beautiful little wife was thinking about me today." You didn't even realize that you still had the wooden spoon in your hand until you dropped it into the pan of mashed potatoes. You spin around and wrap your arms around Abby's neck, as one of her hands is now sitting low on your back and the other is placed in the middle of your back.
All you could do was stare into her eyes before you began to speak. "You don't understand how much I think about you every day, darling," you confess to Abby as you place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's been a year since we got married, and I still can't believe you're mine, Abby." You tell her breathlessly. Her freckle-covered cheeks turned a deep red as she blushed.
"Baby, I should be saying these things to you," She tells you as she brings her face close to you without any hurry. "Beautiful." She whispers before her lips fall on yours.
The kiss was soft. Neither of you rushed it, as you both took your time and savored each other. You were addicted to the taste of Abby's soft, pouty lips and the taste of her mint chapstick that she always put on.
"You weigh just as much as me, don't you I can feel it when we touch"
Your hands grip the back of her neck as the other tugs at her messy blonde braid. Abby moaned into your mouth as you kept tugging and as she leaned in, making you bend back a bit. You feel her hand, which was placed on your lower back, now go down to your ass. Abby kneads at it as she continues to kiss you.
A minute later, you both pull away from each other simultaneously, breathing heavily.
As you both stare and caress each other, you give her braid one last tug as you stand on your tippy toes and go to kiss the bottom of her chin. Her fingers were still kneading into your cheek. "Why don't you go take a shower? Dinner should be ready as soon as you get out; is that fine with you, baby?" You ask her as you rub the back of her neck.
Abby gently nods her head as she replies, "Okay, baby. Thank you so much." She leaves one last kiss on your head as she gives your ass a quick slap and makes her way out of the kitchen.
All you could do was bite your lips and shake your head while observing her ass and thighs in her tight cargo pants.
...
After Abby's shower, she somehow convinced you to ditch dinner and sit with her for a little.
"Baby, I'm not even that hungry, honestly. I just wanna hold you." She says as she sits on the couch, pulling your waist so you can sit on her lap. Rather than sitting sideways on her lap, you adjusted yourself so that you were straddling her.
You knew she was hungry, she was just coming up with an excuse for you to join her.
"Abby, I know you're lying, babes." You tell her, looking deeply into her blue eyes as you push away some of the loose hair that came out of her braid. Her hands came up to your waist and held onto it.
Ugh, whatever, but I still wanna be here with you right now. I feel like we barely got to see each other this week," Abby confessed. You nodded your head and let out a hum, letting her know that you agreed.
Instantly, a thought popped into your head. "You know what, Abs?" You looked at her with bright eyes, seeing that she was already looking down at you with a curious look on her face. "You've been working really hard at the farm all week, and I think you deserve a break, don't you think?"
Abby briefly thinks about it: "Uh, I mean, I guess, sweetheart, but it's going to be really hard to find someone to take care of everything..." As much as Abby would love to spend the day with you, she knew that in order to get the job done the way she wanted it done, she was going to have to be the one to do it.
"Abby, please take the day off..." Your hand drops into your lap and slides up her shirt so you can feel her. "For me, baby," you murmur in a low voice. You observe her eyes as the soft look that was once there has quickly been replaced with a desirous stare.
"You slutty girl, you just want me to take off so I can have my way with you and make you cum all day, hmm?" Abby looked into one of your eyes, down at your lips, and back up to the other eye. All you could do was nod your head, unable to articulate the words.
Her words were vulgar, but she made them sound like the sweetest thing on earth with her soft voice.
The girl lets out a hum before she can say anything else. "Fine, I'll see what I can do." She places a quick peck on your lips and begins sensually gliding her fingers up and down your waist, inching close to your ass. You arch your back into her strong one, making your whole body tremble with nervousness and excitement. Your head started to feel fuzzy.
Even after years of knowing Abby and being very intimate with her, you still get nervous around her at times. It was easy for Abby to detect your nervousness without you saying anything. "Aww, am I making you nervous, my love?"
"You always make me nervous, Abs."
"Yeah?"
You nodded your head, leaned forward, and wrapped your arms around her neck. First you stroked the back of her head, then you pulled her braid down, making her head lean back into the couch.
You couldn't help yourself whenever she had her braid in. Something about the hairstyle invited you to pull against it, which Abby didn't hate. As a matter of fact, Abby loved it when you pulled her hair as she ate you out.
You bent your neck down and began to lick on the sensitive spot on her neck, making her grip your waist tighter and your hips thrust up to your clothed core.
"Oh, this feels so good, my girl." She whimpers softly. "You're making mommy feel so good."
Her words made you suck and lick her neck more. You wrapped her hair around your fist to help hold her in place. Abby trembled with pleasure as her throat released a sexy moan. With each suck on her neck, Abby could feel the sensation shoot down her body, making her clit throb.
"I wish I was fucking your pussy right now," she confessed. "I'd pound that pussy so good while you suck all down my neck." You could feel her throat vibrate with each word.
You continued your assault on her neck for a little while longer until you unwrapped her hair from your fist, stopped sucking, and leaned off of her body. She released your waist, stretching her arms on the top of the couch as she looked at you and bit her luscious lips. "Oh fuck me, baby. You look so delicious right now." You groan before grabbing her chin to look at her neck. The redish, purple hickey on her neck caught your eye. "This will let everyone know you're mine. You're my wife only, right?" You asked her possessively.
She nodded her head as soon as you asked her, "Forever, I'm forever yours, baby. Only yours."
"Good." You say as you place a quick kiss on her lips.
You never doubted Abby's loyalty at all; she never gave you any reason to question her—you just liked hearing her tell you.
"You want me to go up the stairs and get the strap, baby?" She asked. You shook your head at her, causing her to slightly frown.
You absolutely love it when she fucks you with the strap, but tonight you wanted it to be all about her. You wanted to show her how much you appreciated her.
"No, I wanna make you feel good, my love." You tell her before pushing yourself off of her lap and sitting down next to her. You were balled up into her side; your feet were folded up on the couch, and your right hand sat on her lower stomach. You noticed that her pants sat low on her hips—she didn't have on her underwear, and your fingers were just a couple of inches away from her pussy.
"Can I make you feel good?" You whispered to her as you looked up at her to see her already looking at you. Her eyes gazed at you as she took in your appearance.
"Baby, you don't have to do that, you know," she pleaded, making you scoff at her.
Abby is a stubborn woman; she's always so hard to persuade, even if you're practically begging her.
"I know, I don't have to do anything," you bluntly tell her, "but I want to."
The hand that once sat on her lower stomach was now gathering the spit from your mouth and about to slip into her pants before you looked at her again. Abby sat there agape with anticipation, ready to see what you were going to do. "Is it okay if I touch you, baby?" You asked her before touching her.
She wildly shook her head until she realized that words weren't coming out of her mouth. "Y-yeah," She stammers.
With that, you slide your hands deeper into her pants, feeling the light fuzz of her hair, and dip your spit-coated fingers onto her clit. You feel her strong arm bring your body closer to her tense one as she shakes and gasps. She was already sopping wet without your spit.
Her eyes flutter closed, while yours are still stuck on her face. "You're so wet, mommy. Tell me when I made you this wet." You moaned out as you rubbed lazy circles onto her throbbing clit.
"When-" She tries to speak but is interrupted by her own moans. She bites down on her fist as she tries to gather her words and stop herself from moaning.
You didn't like that, though; you loved hearing her pretty moans.
"Put your fist down; I want to hear all your beautiful sounds. Now, tell me what made you so wet, mommy." She instantly dropped her fist as her grip on your shoulder tightened.
"When you-oh my god-when you licked my neck and gave me a hickey," she said as you used your middle finger to flick her clit back and forth in a fast motion, making Abby try to grab at your hand. She didn't know what she was feeling right now. She wanted you to stop, but she also wanted you to keep going. She wanted to cum and lose her mind at the same time.
As she inched closer to her release, she whispered, Don't stop, in your ear, but that didn't stop you from teasing her, so you gradually slowed your pace on her clit and completely stopped. Just as fast as the feeling came, it left just as quickly after you slowed down, making Abby narrow her eyes at you and snarl.
"Aww, you were gonna cum? Hmm, baby?" You tease her as you pull out your hand from her pants and stick your fingers into your mouth, tasting her saltiness. You made eye contact with her as you sucked on your finger.
"You're such a tease, you know that, right?" She breathes out.
You just let out a laugh as you popped your finger out of your mouth. Abby suddenly moved her arm around you and got off the couch, leaving you confused. She then began to strip herself of her pajama pants, leaving her nude from the waist down. You couldn't help but kiss her pelvic bone as she stood tall in front of you. You swipe your pointer finger through her wet slit, making her weak to the knees. Before she could go down, she staggered and grabbed your shoulder tightly.
"N-no touching yet, sweetie..." She scowled at you and said, "You're gonna get on your knees and eat my pussy like a good girl, okay?" You nod your head at her as your eyes trail up her body, stopping at her face. She released your shoulder, stroked your cheek, and faintly muttered good.
She sat down on the couch, scooting to the edge so that her bottom was halfway hanging off. She sat there with her legs wide open, practically inviting you in. You just sat there, taking in her appearance, until she snapped you out of it. "What are you waiting for, baby? Get on your knees."
Without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees and positioned yourself between her legs, just a few inches away from her pussy, which was glistening from her wetness. You gawked at the view in front of you as your mouth watered, still tasting her juices on your tongue.
"Are you alright?" she asked you, making you look up at Abby, who had her eyebrow cocked up with amusement. "You can have a taste if you want," she encouraged you. However, you didn't need much encouragement.
With that, you leaned forward, feeling the heat of her body as you got closer, and licked up her wet slit before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. Abby let out a gasp, holding her breath as she silently uttered, Oh my god, with a strained expression. She was about to reach for your head before she tried to grasp the cushion of your shared couch. You can hear her scratch at the polyester as her dull nails slide across it.
You dug yourself deeper between her legs, swirling and flicking your tongue around her clit. You could feel her arousal spreading across your face, including your nose. "Just like that, baby, keep eating mommy's pussy," she said, breathing hard. You felt yourself grow more and more greedy for her; you wanted to feel her against you, but you continued on pleasuring her. "You love tasting me, huh, beautiful?"
You loved it more than she could know; seeing the way she squirmed and moaned as you ate her out did something to you. It made you feel feral.
You let out a deep moaned around her clit, making her convulse at the vibrations. Abby's eyes squeezed shut as her jaw went slack before you released her clit from your mouth with a faint pop. You watched her sigh out as her eyes opened. She looked down at you with twinkling eyes and let out a chuckle. "Oh fuck, look at that messy face," she cooed at you. You licked up some of it that sat on your lips.
"It's so good, mommy," You moaned up at her.
"Yeah? Well, why don't you have some more?"
You nodded as you went back to licking her pussy. First, you nibbled at her lips, licking them and sucking. She enjoyed it for a little before she let out a frustrated grunt due to the lack of stimulation.
"Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually gonna do something?" She said. You let out a soft laugh at her frustration, causing her to mutter fine as she grabbed onto the side of your head and shifted her hips so that your mouth went onto her clit. "Now eat." She demanded.
Right when she said that, your lips began to suckle on her pearl gently, making sure not to do too much. She pulled you in more as she grinded her hips, loving the way it felt when her clit when released from your mouth and sucked back in. You tuned out the sounds of your slurping as you were focused on making her cum.
"My good little slutty wife, look at you," she sighs out as you lap up her juices, "a-always taking care of me." You tried to keep your eyes open to watch her, but with her words and delicious taste, you couldn't help it.
You began sucking harder, making her body tense and her legs clamp around your head, but you quickly grabbed her inner thigh. You allowed your drool to flow off your tongue as you ferociously ate her cunt, making her more soaked.
"Gonna cum, baby! I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face." She moaned loudly, making you moan as well. "I'm cumming, oh fuck!" Her body was still tense, but now she was shaking—she cursed out and moaned your name as her cum gushed into your mouth. You swallowed it while some of it dripped down your chin.
You eventually pulled away from her pussy once her orgasm died down. Her breathing was loud as she lay there with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. Her loose strand of hair was stuck to her now sweaty forehead, looking beautiful as always. You just sat there between her thighs as you whispered, It's okay.
Finally, Abby took one last deep breath before opening her eyes, looking down at you, and letting out a chuckle. "I needed that," She said. Her hands rested over top of her t-shirt-covered stomach as she relaxed on the couch.
"I can tell, baby. You okay?"
"I'm more than okay," she said as she smirked at you, making you giggle. "Now can I fuck you? I wanna make you feel good."
"Nuh uh, Ms. Anderson, not tonight." You tell her as you place kisses on her inner thigh. Her body began to squirm, but she still kept her composure.
"It's actually Mrs. Anderson," she corrected you with her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched as she raised her left hand to show you her ring. "And why not, baby?" Her previous expression dropped quickly as she pouted.
"Because...I wanna keep tasting you tonight," you try to tempt her as you place your kisses closer to her pussy. It was working because she sucked in a sharp breath and bit down on her lip.
"You think you can cum one more time for me, mommy?" You asked her as you planted a kiss just above her pussy where the hair lay, on her soaking lips, and on her clit. She just nodded weakly as she watched.
You placed one more soft kiss on her clit before starting your attack again. You began to eat her out as if you were tongue kissing her plush lip. "Fuck, what has gotten into you, sweetie?" Abby moaned.
You groaned onto her pussy while bringing your fingers up to her pussy and teased her wet hole. You realized that you caught her by surprise because her body jolted. Once you slithered your finger into her, you began to move it in and out of her while servicing her clit with your mouth. You can feel her walls squeeze around your fingers.
"You're gonna make me cum already."
"Give-give me your hand so I can hold it while you make me cum," Abby sputtered out. You reach up, with your left arm resting on her thighs and stomach as our hands intertwine. Abby's stomach, as well as yours, flipped—there was something so mushy yet arousing about it. Seeing and feeling her finger rub against the ring she had given you did something to you. You move away from her pussy with your teeth lightly grazing against her clit. You slowly pulled your fingers out of her, then began to rapidly rub her pussy, making sure to focus on her clit.
"I-I'm cu-oh my god, I'm cumming." Her moans became uncharacteristically high, her legs got wider, and her grip on your hand tightened. Your arm began to ache as you continued your movements, but you had no plans on stopping.
"Cum for me, Abby; cum all over my hand, beautiful." You egged her on. You felt her squirm, trying to get away, but you pressed your wrist down on her stomach. Her face got redder and spread down to her neck.
"Shit! If you keep going, I'm gonna-" Her words were cut off as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Suddenly, her wet sounds got louder, and liquid began to gush from her, causing it to go everywhere. Down your arm, on your face, on your shirt, and all over herself. Some of it had even gotten on the couch, leaving a large wet spot, and on the carpet.
We're definitely going to have to get a new couch now.
"Oh!" You squealed out in surprise, continuing to rub against her clit. "You're squirting so much, baby!" It made you giddy that you were the one doing this to her.
Her body trashed around and trembled as she tried to speak, but she couldn't, so you decided that she had enough and stopped. You got off your knees and sat on the couch next to her before pulling her head into your chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around you. You could feel her quivering and breathing hard into your chest as you stroked and kissed her head.
"You did so good, baby," you murmured to her, rocking her back and forth.
You both stayed like that until she cooled down. You heard her say something, but you couldn't hear her, so you asked her to repeat herself.
"I can eat your pussy now," She said as her words were muffled into your chest.
"No, Abby. You need to rest."
"But I—" she tried to get out before you interrupted her.
You rolled your eyes. She was being stubborn again.
"No, plus you'll be home all day tomorrow, so you can do whatever you want." You smirked, making her smile into your chest, and said true in agreement.
It went quiet for a while until you felt Abby's breathing even out and her body slump against yours. She was asleep. You just shook your head, knowing she had been tired all along.
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melodygatesauthor · 11 months ago
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Goodnight, Princess
Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader
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Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!
PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!
Summary
Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.
This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)
Word Count: 5.7k
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I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.
Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.
I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?
Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 
Our secret.
I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.
Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.
I never thought I’d find you there.
Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?
They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.
I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 
When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…
But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.
That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.
There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.
I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.
Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?
I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.
I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.
“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.
Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.
But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.
Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.
Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.
I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.
I’ll see you on Friday, princess.
It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.
Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.
Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.
Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.
“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.
“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.
Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.
The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.
I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.
When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.
I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.
A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.
You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”
You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.
I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.
Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.
“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.
He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.
You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.
“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.
That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.
When you said, “mm, harder, please…”
I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”
I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.
You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.
I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.
You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 
For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.
“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.
You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.
I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.
Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.
So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.
Or maybe I hope I don’t.
I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.
I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.
My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.
I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.
God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 
I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”
It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.
You liked it.
At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.
I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?
Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.
I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.
I’m not going to go too far.
I went to your house today.
I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.
Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.
I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?
Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?
If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.
Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 
Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.
You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.
I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?
You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.
You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.
Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?
It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 
I just don’t.
I lost it today.
I really fucking lost it today, princess.
I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?
I found him.
I…
Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.
You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.
After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.
Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.
“Santi,” you said sweetly.
I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.
“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.
You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.
I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.
“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.
I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.
“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.
When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?
Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.
You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.
I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.
Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.
You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.
Thank god.
I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.
“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”
I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.
I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.
I’m not sure what to do now.
I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 
If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.
Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.
Goodnight, princess.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months ago
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Id love to see how DOG! Konig actually first saw Reader or even when he knew he fell in love with her <3
König saw reader first time on TV :)
It was one of those boring moments when the latest mission was done and he was coming down from his adrenaline/testosterone/cortisol high, channel surfing at the base with a blank stare.
He passed this one channel that never had anything worthwhile to watch, except this time—wait a minute—there’s some cute girl whipping egg whites there. He changed the channel out of habit but immediately changed it back again, his eyes boring to the screen where this woman was making lemon tartlets.
He pays attention to the nice voice… Nice lips… Her hands, very delicate when she decorates each tart with raspberries and mint leaves. It’s always hot in his opinion when a girl prepares dinner or dessert, and this cutie is doing both. She has a sad smile and a pair of depressed eyes, her body language reminds him of tortured prisoners on the brink of confession. The despair in her eyes resembles the look on women just before they cum, and it drives him fucking nuts.
She’s fucking perfect… So weak, just a poor little thing who’s trying to hide, probably hates the camera and her audience, every small prick she has to work for and with.
König binges her whole show within a few days from some streaming service, even faps during or after watching – just a few times because in a few episodes, they filmed her breasts and hands a lot, although it must be said it’s that helpless look in her eyes that truly makes him cum hard… He fantasizes about arriving at her studio with his guns blazing, wondering how she would react when he stains her cute little tarts with blood. How she would react when she sees a big, able man come to take what’s his – would she kneel and beg him to save her life, or would she gasp and look like a stupefied goldfish when he pulls his dick out after the bloodbath and tells her to give it a kiss?
Next thing he does is he googles her, finds a few articles in some lousy girl magazine where she mentions she has “learned to make peace with solitude” and that “time spent alone feels good nowadays”. Ja, sicher! Poor little thing is lying her eyes out, anyone can see that. She tries so hard to be brave, looks so fuckable when she sighs and looks down at the food she just made like it’s the only thing in this world she can do right. Just cook some food and decorate dumb pastries, looking like a spoiled little princess while she’s doing it.
He gets his hands on the actual, physical articles and keeps them in his locker because they include pictures of her. Finds her on social media and looks at her Instagram feed first time in the morning and last time before bed, chuckling to himself from how pathetic she is, so fucking desperate to get attention... He has a collection of screenshots on his phone: one of his favourites is, surprisingly, not a picture of her delicious ass, trying another dumb hobby that’s supposed to be trendy. It’s the one where she’s smiling at a big mug of coffee in front of her, looking like a cute little kitten who’s been offered a treat. Or her on the beach with a big straw hat on her head, looking at the waves and smiling a big, silly smile, her worries forgotten for a moment. Her at a party, all dolled up and practically begging to get fucked, holding the waist of some weak civilian he could kill with one punch.
But his ultimate favourite is a selfie she took while she was out on a walk. She’s without her makeup, wearing a simple old faded t-shirt, looking up at the camera with a fake smile and those sad, pleading eyes, silently begging for someone to take the pain away. She’s unprotected, and lonely, so pitiful that König would do anything to teleport beside her right now and haul her away like a sack of whimpering potatoes thrown over his shoulder.
Is no one going to fucking come to her rescue and spoil her to bits, is no one going to fuck those dumb little thoughts out of her head? What the fuck is wrong with men these days, he doesn’t understand, but he’s not going to watch this ridiculous shit for a moment longer…
(If you asked König when he realized he was in love with her, he would answer it was love at first sight. Or… maybe… that one time when she asked where she put the cream. She was talking to herself while the cameras were rolling, looking helpless, lost, and dumb because she literally had one job... König found that very endearing.)
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thepixelelf · 1 month ago
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superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language. mention of a gun. wc: 1.7k
read part 1 first
[anonymous nights 2] “What the fuck do you mean, they’re missing?”
The last thing Seungcheol expected when he walked into headquarters that morning was this.
Seokmin shrugged, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands as he sat on the communal kitchen’s counter. “I didn’t mean missing missing. They just haven’t checked in since yesterday and weren't at the meeting this morning.”
Pacing back and forth, Seungcheol tried to process what Seokmin said. He flailed his arms around, growing frantic as the room temperature spiked. “But they always check in! Even when they’re not on duty!”
“Whoa, Seungcheol,” Minghao said as he walked into the kitchen, using his freaky mind powers to forcibly subdue Seungcheol’s panic. The temperature dropped back to normal. “Calm down.”
“Minghao you know I hate when you do that!”
Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, Minghao shrugged, then went to get a tea bag from the hot drink basket on the counter.
“Minghao’s right, Seungcheol." Seokmin took a sip of his hot chocolate. "You need to calm down, otherwise you might broil us like potatoes.”
Seungcheol nearly growled. Why was everyone being so casual?! He knew you, and he knew you wouldn’t just flake out on a meeting like that — especially if you hadn’t checked in for a whole day.
“Has anyone tried calling them, at least?”
Seokmin and Minghao both glanced at each other, shrugged, then turned back to Seungcheol. He groaned. Idiots. An entire organization made up of superheros and super geniuses, yet not one of them thought to call you. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket, fingers ready to type in his password when the screen went black, all except for your name in white letters and the accept or decline buttons.
Hastily, he pressed his thumb to the accept button and brought the phone up to his ear.
“Where the hell are you—”
“Seungcheol.”
He froze, the nagging words at his lips stopping before they could start. Your voice sounded so soft, not pitched or annoying like it always was. Noticing Seungcheol’s sudden shift in attitude, Minghao nudged Seokmin's knee, and they both leaned in so they could hear you on the other end of the line.
“Seungcheol,” you repeated, and he felt dread clouding his mind even though all you’d said was his name. His gaze dropped to the floor. “Hey.”
He gulped down the lump in his throat, about to say something when you interrupted him again.
“Listen, sweetheart.” At that, the other boys shared a confused look, while Seungcheol’s eyes widened. “I don’t have much time — gotta get back to work soon, you know... the news never stops — but I just felt like calling. Did you miss me?”
Finally gaining some of his voice back, Seungcheol stuttered. “What are you…? I don’t—”
“Yeah, I missed you too, you big dork.” You took in a breath, almost a shaky, broken one, if Seungcheol wasn’t hearing things. “You know what I was thinking about this morning? Our first date.”
Seungcheol looked up from the floor to the others. First date? What first date?! You weren’t making any sense. Minghao’s brow furrowed as he read into Seungcheol’s mind, while Seokmin just seemed lost.
“You stuffed that letter in my locker asking me out, and then you were so flustered when I said yes! Gosh, you were so adorable.” Why did you sound like you were about to cry? “I still have that letter, you know. It’s in my desk, second drawer on the right side. I go back and read it when I get lonely. Silly, right?.”
“Dude, you’re starting to freak me out. I don’t get—”
“Anyways, I remember you were so nervous... You packed all this amazing food for the picnic you planned out, but it started raining so hard, we had a picnic in your bedroom! Hmm, simpler times, those were.” Sighing as if you remembered some peaceful backstory, you continued. “I think I ate an entire half of your mom’s pie that day. I can’t believe you still wanted to date me after that. Half a pie!”
Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “What the heck are they on about?” he whispered. Everyone knew Seungcheol was never close to his family.
“No idea,” Minghao answered for him, having been reading Seungcheol's mind almost the entire time. Normally, he hated when Minghao came even close to reading him, but at that moment, he was entirely too focused on you to care.
Something clicked in the background of the call, louder than your breathing but quiet enough to be missed by the other boys. It sounded hauntingly familiar. Seungcheol sifted through the possibilities, and he didn’t like what he came up with. The safety of a handgun sounded an awful lot like that.
“Okay, okay,” you said through the phone. It didn’t sound like you were talking to Seungcheol. “I gotta go, pumpkin, duty calls.”
“Wait wait! You can’t just hang up! Where are you?!”
“I know you miss me, darling, I miss you too, but I need to finish this… article.” Your voice broke on the last word, a breath leaving you too quickly and forcefully to go unnoticed.
“And Seungcheol?”
He said nothing, just waited with held breath.
“I love you.”
A sickening thud. The line went dead. Seungcheol dropped his hand in front of him, staring slack-jawed at his lock screen — a photo you’d sent to him of the sunset from your apartment. The sky looks pretty tonight, you’d said in your text.
Seokmin stood straight, stuffing one hand in his pocket while the other held his now cold chocolate. “I thought you said you weren’t dating—ow!”
Minghao had elbowed him in the ribs, whispering angrily, “Read the room!”
Paying attention to neither of them, Seungcheol slowly turned around and walked to exit the kitchen. Before he knew it, he’d broken into a sprint by the time he reached your desk. It was among many other desks, all belonging to other techies and non-supers that worked for the organization like you did.
He yanked open your drawer — the second one on the right — and sure enough, a creme letter sat cleanly atop other papers and files. His hand shakily grasped the letter just as Seokmin and Minghao caught up, their breaths laboured from the sudden run.
“The heck are you do—“ Seungcheol held up the letter for Seokmin to see. “—oh.”
“Well? Open it,” Minghao urged, knowing full well why Seungcheol was so distraught. His partner was in danger.
The memory of that thud before the call got cut off flooded through Seungcheol’s head, and he ripped open the envelope.
Hey there!
If you’re reading this while I’m totally fine and not in trouble, first off: rude! And second, you can just ignore the rest of this letter.
If you’re reading this while I am in trouble, then it’s probably because I told you about where to find this. Sorry if I made it awkward, but my cover stories are always the most appropriate for the situation. Usually. Anyways.
I installed a tracking chip in my arm (terrifying process, let me tell you) for this exact situation a few years ago, and unless my arm’s been chopped off, you should be able to find me with it. I’d hoped I’d never have to use it, but if you’re reading this, then I guess I’ve got to, huh? The software to track me is hidden on my computer as a file labelled “memes to show dad” and the password is what I ate.
You’ll know what I mean.
While Seungcheol was still gawking at your weirdly casual letter, Minghao, who’d been reading over his shoulder, went over to turn on your computer. None of the computers in the office had passwords — company policy — and Seungcheol had never been happy about that rule until now.
As Minghao searched for the hidden software, Seungcheol stood behind the rolling chair while Seokmin took and read your letter.
“Whoa, Seungcheol, your partner is kind of intense.”
“Seokmin, I am two seconds away from making you think you’re a blobfish,” Minghao warned as he clacked away on your keyboard. “This is serious.”
Pursing his lips into a thin line, Seokmin apologized with a sheepish nod. Seungcheol wasn’t paying much attention anyways, as all that happened when Minghao pulled up your software was a wash of blue filling the screen. A row of darker blue boxes sat directly in the middle.
“At least this part’s easy,” Seokmin piped in. “They said they ate half a pie, right?”
Minghao didn’t move to type in what Seokmin suggested, and instead leaned closer to examine the screen. “It’s a five-slot code— no way ‘half a pie’ will fit.”
They both turned to Seungcheol, who, until then, had stayed silent. He combed through every wrinkle of his brain, trying desperately to figure out what you meant. The message must have been for him, right? He was the one you called. So he should know.
“Try…” Seungcheol poked his tongue to the inside of his cheek, unsure of himself. “Try 1.570.”
Not questioning him, Minghao typed in the digits.
At first, nothing happened. The numbers he had typed in disappeared, replaced by three white dots as all three silently watched. Panic started to settle in before the dots swiped away to reveal a little white line of text.
Ha, get it? I’m hilarious >:)
It was times like this when Seungcheol really hated your blasé humour.
As the software loaded, Seokmin looked between your computer and Seungcheol, his face blank with confusion. “How did you get that?”
Seungcheol groaned, hiding his face in the palms of his hands. “Half of pi — like the number.”
“And you know half of pi to the third decimal because…?”
“They’ve told me that joke like a million times.”
“Guys…” Minghao’s voice brought Seungcheol back to the present, his eyes moving to the screen where Minghao’s finger pointed. A blinking red dot flashed at them right in the middle of a digital rendition of downtown. “Does that place look familiar to you?”
Oh hell no.
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part 1 | part 3
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boiipotato · 2 years ago
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Not being wanted for years is really sad...
I keep thinking this Girl will be different! She will treat me the way I wanna be treated! I will be loved and hugged tell I can't take it!.
I just want that to be a reality instead I'm lost, nobody wants me?.. single for years, and not a single person has wanted me??
What is so wrong.. I am Goofy asf, I have a tiny crooked nose, I have dark, dark, dark brown eyes, my teeth aren't perfectly straight. But they're close.. I'm trying to understand how a person can decide within a fucking min that I'm not attractive anymore...
This just keeps happening, Compliments on how I'm cute then ghosted or deleted, why??.. why even start my hopes.. why not reply? What the fuck is wrong with me.
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sweetcollywobbles · 10 months ago
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my yandere!leon headcanons so far MDNI
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hello! these are just a few headcanons i had about leon as a yandere and a person in general. there is nsfw below the cut, so MINORS AND AGELESS BIOS FUCK OFF ‼ also feel free to send me your thoughts on yandere!leon and your personal headcanons if you have any!!
xx
sfw
⟢ he's self-aware that what he's done to you is horrible. he knows you have every right to hate him, but that doesn't stop him from wishing you would love him back. he never meant to hurt or deceive you, but he's lost and given too much. leon wants someone to come home to, share a meal with, and feel needed and wanted. to receive a sliver of what he's given out. so forgive him if he's being selfish when it comes to you, but he deserves happiness too. so why not help him play house?
⟢ smells of bergamot and lavender. it’s nice and relaxing, but also musky and woodsy. he read somewhere that lavender calms the nerves, so he just absolutely lathers himself in the scent. Sometimes you swear he smells like sleep personified. unfortunately, he’s still a man, so he uses old spice lavender body wash. for cologne, he uses sauvage by dior. 
⟢ normalcy is hard. how can anyone go back into society as if the amount of  horrors you’ve seen, aren’t there? like you’re fine and everything is fine? so, leon has found a pretty good remedy, company. each friday, a sit down dinner with claire, chris, and jill. pizza, wings, and beer every sunday with chris watching whatever football game is on. sometimes they may not know the current standings of teams, but it’s fun to pretend that they do. yet friends can only fill the void so much, maybe with you, the world won’t feel so lonely. 
⟢ he has a major sweet tooth! likes his coffee with cream and sugar, won’t drink his coffee black unless he really needs it. leon will always have room for dessert lmao. has tried to bake, but he just doesn’t got it 💀something just always goes wrong. a big ice cream/frozen yogurt guy. once a month, leon will make a “everything under the kitchen sink” sundae. he’ll dump whatever pints of ice cream into a large bowl and top it off with whatever candy, syrup, and whip topping he has. leon is usually on a very strict diet, so why not splurge?
⟢ leon on his off time has taught himself how to smoke/grill meat. only knows how to make small side dishes to go with the meat that he’s made. mashed potatoes and grilled veggies are usually his two favorite go-to sides. 
⟢ i'm a firm believer that leon's receiving love languages are quality time and words of affirmation with a hint of acts of service. leon works a lot, whether at the office or away on another mission, this poor, tired man is always working. so when he's home be prepared to be attached at the hip. leon also has a lot of self-doubt and guilt about what he's done to you, so by telling him how much you love and appreciate him, it feeds his growing delusion that what he's done is necessary. you need him just as much as he needs you. it also adds to the reassurance when you do small things for him to show your love and appreciation, whether it’s real or not. like cleaning and folding his laundry, making him a cup of coffee in the morning, back rubs after a long day, or even packing his lunch for the day. 
i’m giggling at the thought of leon keeping all the small notes you add to his lunch, reading them when the day gets tough. or maybe he has one or two in a go-bag when he has to take small out-of-state trips for work. 
⟢ building off the one before, he won't admit it but he's clingy. he prefers showers, but will choose a bath if it means he gets a small intimate moment with you in the morning. not in a sexual sense, more in a “let’s bask in each other’s presence”. never sits across from you at a table or booth, always next to you. same thing for the couch. there could be a thousand pillows on the bed, but he always chooses yours. leon will also never lets you sleep facing any windows/doors for security reasons. there is no such thing as personal space with this man.
⟢ since leon is a yandere his reciprocating love language is all of them. he wants you to stay with him, so he is willing to drown you in his love until it's the only thing you'll ever know. i'm going to break this down a little in sections.  
⟡ leon isn't the best when it comes to choosing the words that relay how he feels. the words feel wrong and it leaves him awkward. so any sort of verbal praise from him is rare. the most you would get from him is a thumbs up and a "sure" or a pat on the back with a nod.
(😀👍🏻 <— leon fr) but, put a piece of paper infront of this man and all of a sudden he's writing words that’ll make shakespear blush. it's words so sickly sweet it gives you a toothache. leon really hates himself for not being able to verbal relay this to you, but maybe you can feel what he wants to say?
⟡ leon is just really good at showing you how he feels than telling you. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD GIVE THE BEST HUGS BECAUSE HE SO DESPERATELY NEEDS ONE. just imagining leon giving you a bear hug, fully enveloping you, and he can't help but hold you a little closer. maybe even holds your head a little more to him. his eyes are closed, soaking up the loving moment, he might even do a little sigh of relief. because with you, he's safe. with you, he's loved. and he just wants you to feel the love he has for you through every action. to feel what he can't say. (SORRY I GOT OFF TRACK!!) leon also always has to be touching you in some way. his favorite places for kisses; nose, cheek, neck, or hand. every morning, when he's holding you close, he'll leave small repeated kisses on your neck until you wake up giggling. not really into lip kisses, but will sometimes start a lazy make out session. just loves holding you whenever he can and making sure you feel loved at all times.
⟡ leon will also do the most for you. having a hard time sleeping? he's awake with you, lightly scratching your back in small circles or holding you close while he's running his fingers through your hair. leon just can't sleep knowing that you're having a hard time sleeping. hungry but don't want to cook? he's in the kitchen cheffing it up. putting love in every plate that he makes you, even if it isn't restaurant quality. i feel like leon will also leave you small notes around the house in places that you would find, but it's little drawings instead of words. in the slow cooker, a picture of a flower. in between the dryer sheets, a bad stick figure drawing of what you think is of you and him. at some random page of the book you're reading, a simple heart. 
⟡ leon loves spending time with you. it doesn't matter what it is, even if you're doing nothing. he wants to do nothing with you. his favorite thing to do with you is listen to you. whether you’re rambling about the latest tv drama he knows nothing about or it’s late at night and you’re reading whatever book you’ve picked up. he loves being in the kitchen when you’re cooking/baking. he’s your dedicated sous chef, so feel free to boss him around like your gordon ramsay. although, i’m so sorry for the amount of “my name is sue” jokes he’ll make. loves watching movies, putting together legos/ doing diy crafts, and playing mario kart. 
I NOTICED THIS WAS GETTING LONG AND IDK IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL BUT IM HOPING I DID. THIS WAS SOOOO SELF INDULGENT.
⟢ when it comes to pet names, leon will add a “my” to the start of it. he’s possessive and it shows in his actions. will often say: my girl, my sweetheart, my baby, my angel, etc.
nsfw (i’m not good at smut sorry)
⟢ the praise problem does not equate to what happens in the bedroom. i'm sorry, i just simply refuse. a complete 180, he's a talker. whether it's saying something so outlandishly lewd like he wants the whole world to hear or sickly sweet nothings in your ear, this dude will NOT stfu. (and it makes me giggle and kick my feet) I WILL PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE AND SAY THAT THIS MAN IS ABSOLUTELY FERAL IN BED. he's always stressed. from his job, from the lack of self care, from the past that just never seems to leave him. he's on edge. he has healthy ways of releasing it, but sometimes the gym or extra training isn't enough. 
⟢ which can lead to leon being a little mean in bed. he’s absolutely degrading the life out of you while also giving you whiplash with the praise that he gives you as well. leon is a lot more aggressive and at some point you’re just a fleshlight to him. spanking, choking, biting, spitting, you name it, it is on the table. also licking whatever drool comes out of his mouth makes him lose his mind fr.
⟢ i'm not good at writing smut, but i do have an idea of what i think leon's favorite sex positions would be. the first one would be mating press. it's extremely intimate and it allows him to be close to your face and neck than the regular missonary position. again, he really gets off knowing that he's the one getting you off. another postition would be cowgirl, it gives him full view of your chest and face, except you're not really riding him. again, he just using you as a fleshlight like giving you the perception that you’re in control. another would be you on your belly and him basically putting you in a headlock. IDK WHAT IT’S CALLED BUT IF YKYK. and leon just saying the most down right atrocious things in your ear would make me go crazy. 
YOU’RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT HIS HUGE ARMS AROUND YOUR NECK, YOU’RE INSANE. 
⟢ last but not least, ✨moaning✨. i like to think that he’s a grunter and whiner at the same time. idk if that makes any sense? he’s loud but not obscenely loud. but sometimes when he overstimulates himself, he’s a complete whiner like lovi (again if ykyk).
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phoward89 · 9 months ago
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Summary: Coriolanus felt that you were out too long on your date with Sejanus. He decides to go find his innocent little dove and bring her home. Even if that means abruptly ending your romantic evening.
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is a warning himself! Cussing, possessiveness, Dark!Coriolanus Snow, thoughts of murder to solve problems, Deciding to plan a murder, stalking, manipulation
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Chapter 2
Coryo was in his bedroom, perched on his windowsill. He was studiously looking down below at the Corso, waiting for your return.
You went out with Sejanus over an hour ago for your dinner date. You should be home by now. Why weren't you back.
Was he corrupting you?
Damnit!
Fuck!
No!
That disgusting district flea-bitten dog better not be corrupting you.
You're an innocent little dove that needs your Coryo to protect you. You can't get corrupted.
At least by anyone that isn't him. If anyone's going to corrupt you it's him. But it wouldn't actually be corrupting, it'd just be teaching you how to please him.
Coriolanus let out an aggravated sigh as the lone candle lighting up his room dimly flickered. He didn't care if it burnt out or not. He was too worried about you and where you were.
Most importantly who you were with.
Coriolanus knew that he should've snuck out and followed the Plinth boy's car when you got into it. But no…he had to stay home and eat watery cabbage soup and congealed potatoes for dinner with Tigris and Grandma'am.
Fucking hell, where were you?
Okay.
That's it.
He's done.
Coriolanus decided that he needed to put on some black clothes (so he wouldn't be seen sneaking around) and go find you. Enough was enough and he had to make sure that you weren't being tricked into getting on your knees, or worse, for that district 2 scumbag, Sejanus Plinth in some alleyway somewhere.
He has to find you; protect you too.
You're his little dove; he can't have you fluttering away on your own, only to get hurt.
Nope.
So, he's going to find you and make sure that you get home in one piece.
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Coriolanus weaved in and out of the dark alleyways, on a mission to find you. His dark hoodie and hat paired with his black slacks and shoes shielded him; made him blend into the dark perfectly.
Infact, he became one with the darkness as he used the back alleys of the Capitol as his personal labyrinth. His personal map in getting to where you might be.
He truly had no idea where you could be, but by using the dark alleyways as cover he could look out onto the streets, glowing with the light of oil street lamps, and survey the area as long as needed.
He could look for you without the risk of being caught.
When he finally spotted you, it was across from one of the many alleys that he hid in. You were at a park, sitting on a park bench with that dirty district boy, Sejanus.
You were sitting with him at the park that he always took you to. The park that was your special spot. How dare that district dog trick you into bringing him there.
Coriolanus felt his blood boil with rage at how close he was sitting next to you. You were so innocent, his little dove, that he knows you most likely weren't aware that Sejanus' shoulder was brushing against yours on purpose.
Sejanus, that District 2 scum, was touching you on purpose. Trying to taint and corrupt you.
You needed him, your Coryo, to protect you. To keep you innocent until he deemed the time for your innocence to be taken away.
And the only one that would be taking your innocence was him. You were his little dove, after all.
You've been his since you were 5 years old and you'll be his until the day you die.
Or he dies.
Or whoever dies first.
But the point is, you belonged to Coriolanus Snow; you were his and the only thing in this world that could part you was the Grim Reaper himself.
Coriolanus slowly lurched in the night, careful not to let the glow from the street lamps cast a light on him, as he made his way over to where you were with your boyfriend. Ugh, how he hated referring to the Plinth boy as that.
Your boyfriend.
It made his skin crawl. Made him want to claw at his face; rip his platinum curls straight from the roots.
Sejanus Plinth was undeserving of that title. Of being your boyfriend. He was nothing, but the district filth that he, your Coryo, let come around you. He let that district boy come around only because he needed to make him think that all of you were friends because he needed him to whisper his name, the name of Coriolanus Snow, into his father’s ear so that he could win the coveted Plinth prize and give everyone he loves the life they deserve.
Grandma’am deserves to eat chocolates everyday while Tigris deserves to have her very own fashion house, instead of slaving away for a designer that treated her like a damn maid.
And you, his little dove, deserves the world. You deserve all the riches, jewels, finery, and delicacies that the world has to offer.
And Coryo was going to deliver it all to you on a silver platter.
He just needed to win the Plinth prize first. But, if you were being pursued and twisted up by the Plinth boy, then what good would the prize be?
He needed to get rid of that district dog before he took things too far with you.
Coriolanus’ ears perked up as he heard you tell Sejanus, “You know, I come here a lot with Coriolanus.” he inched closer and closer, all while listening to you sing him praises. “We sneak out at night sometimes on weekends and just sit here, talk and look at the city lights.” You smiled, “He says that when he becomes president he's going to let me redecorate the presidential palace; he'll make a big garden for his Grandma’am's roses too.”
Coriolanus was hiding by a tree, his tall, lithe body flush against the trunk, as he watched you on the bench with Sejanus. Hearing your words of praise and endearment about him sent pride straight to his dark, obsessive, heart.
Here you were, on a date with Sejanus Plinth and he was on your mind. Your Coryo was on your mind, not the District 2 fool by your side.
Oh, if only you knew he was right behind you. Would you abandon your boyfriend and run to his side?
Eh, probably not since you were such a good girl. You'd endure a date with a man while needing another because ditching somebody wasn't proper.
But don't worry, little innocent dove, your Coryo plans on getting rid of Sejanus for you.
Forever.
Coriolanus just needs to figure out a way that wouldn't implement him. He couldn't get caught for murdering the Plinth boy. That would ruin everything.
He had to be smart about this, bid his time and come up with a fool proof plan. He couldn't be rash about it, or else he might jeopardize your future.
He had to make you his First Lady after all and he couldn't do that from jail or from a penal colony on the outskirts of the districts.
Coriolanus frowned deeply as Sejanus told you, “That’s a nice dream that he has, honey, but it’ll never come true.”
That district bastard! How dare he say that to you; make your shoulders slump in sadness as you ask, “Why not? He's smart and driven.”
Sejanus knew more about the inner workings of the Capitol then he let on. It was because his father, Strabo Plinth, was the main munitions manufacturer for the Capitol; was very close to President Ravenstill. And it was that knowledge that made him answer you with, “Because presidential elections are a formality, Y/N. They have to be held, but it's a farce. Felix will automatically become president because his father's president.”
“Oh…” You sadly sighed, feeling your heart break for your best friend's shattered dreams. You wanted Coryo to fulfill his dreams and make his family proud, but now you knew it was impossible.
You weren't going to be the one to break the bad news to him tho. No, you'd be by your best friend's side and support him no matter what. Because that's what Coryo would do for you.
“You know, back in 2, the stars twinkle so brightly in the night sky. The moon also shines brightly, making the mountains and canyons look beautiful.”
“You remember how it looks in District 2? But you haven't been there since you were little.”
Okay, now Coriolanus has to shut down this little date. It was getting too deep for his liking. He couldn't have you feeling sorry for Sejanus because of his misplaced nostalgia for his home district.
Deciding to make the excuse that he was out for a walk to clear his head, Coriolanus pulled his hood back and took off his hat, stuffing it into his pocket, and left his spot camouflaged in the tree.
His large feet in their too small shoes crunched loudly against the sticks and fall leaves, causing you and your boyfriend to turn around.
Your eyes twinkled and a beaming smile, that was reserved only for him, appeared on your face as you say him. Sejanus on the other hand didn't look too happy to see Coriolanus.
No, he had an apprehensive look in his brown eyes. “Coryo, uh, come to be the third wheel on our date?” Sejanus half joked, his voice a bit flat.
You lightly smacked your boyfriend, only to tell him, “Coriolanus comes here a lot with me. He was probably just out for a walk; taking a break from studying.” Looking over at Coryo, you asked, “Right, Coryo?”
Coming right up to you, he nodded, “That's right, my little dove.”
Sejanus leerily looked between you and the curly haired blonde. He was starting to wonder exactly how deep your friendship with Coriolanus ran. Yes, he liked you and thought you were cute; wants to be your boyfriend, but he didn't know if he could handle his girlfriend being doted on by his friend.
It was kinda…well…weird?
Yea, weird.
As Coriolanus rounded the bench and took a seat right between you and Sejanus, the brunette man told him, “Well, we're on a date, stargazing, so maybe you should've taken a walk in another direction once you spotted us.”
Giving the district boy a hard look, Coriolanus responded with the veiled barb of, “The Capitol isn't a place for stargazing, Sej. It's full of city buildings and street lights, unlike the mountains and prairie canyons of District 2.” Looking up at the sky and then to you, he suggested, “It's getting late, Y/N. I should bring you home.”
“My car's at the park entrance, My driver can bring you both home.” Sejanus offered before you had the chance of accepting Coriolanus’ order that was presented as a suggestion.
“I'll take her home, Sejanus. The walk’ll give her the chance to tell me all about your date.”
Looking between your new boyfriend and your longtime best friend, you simply said, “I'm going to walk home with Coryo.”
The light briefly dulled in Sejanus' eyes, but he didn't let his disappointment show. Instead, he forced a smile and told you. “I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He stood up, only to press a sweet kiss to your cheek.
You thought it was so cute and blushed a deep pinkish-red.
Coriolanus on the other hand saw red like a raging bull. He wanted to cut Sejanus' lips off for kissing you. He also wanted to scrub your cheek raw until the brand of those dirty district lips was cleansed from your skin.
Now Coryo knew, without a doubt, that Sejanus has to die.
Nobody kissed his girl, his innocent little dove, and got to live.
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