#except the other tank he was a fucking GOD

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

sometimes you take so many L's in an extreme that it fucks your ego up

[living-in-a-fantasia]

Stiggy

[wlfchnlv3r]

Quiet

fem reader x bangchan

synopsis: chan can’t stay away from you even when there is someone else in the dorm.

warnings: 🔞!!! mdni!, boyfriend!bangchan, smut, fingering, praise, unprotected sex.

word count: 4k

note: uhm hi! this is my first fanfic + english is not my first language, so pls be gentle😓

"Be quiet for me, baby, i know you can do that" Chan’s voice warns you with a whisper.

You nod in response, biting down your lip. Jeonjin was taking a shower and, as always, he turned up the music. You and Chan both tried to not have sex in the dorms, especially when any of the other guys were around. But unfortunately, this time was the exception.

"God you are beautiful." Chan smirked, looking down at your body as your raised t-shirt expose your naked body to him.

You smiled at him before pulling his tank top up and over his head. He leaned down to kiss you, moaning against your mouth, your hands moving to tangles your fingers through his curly hair, that you loved.

Chan started to kiss along your jawline, one of his hands slided down to your hip, gripping it and rubbing small circles while the other one moved towards your, already wet, panties that you still had on.

"Chan." You quietly moaned as he brushed his fingertips over your covered core.

"Quiet, baby" his voice was low, soft and muffled by your skin; He began to pull the fabric of your slip away from your cunt; the sudden move sending shiver down your spine.

Bang Chan curse under his breath when his fingers started to move on your swollen clit, and you opened your legs more, wanting to feel more of him.

This went on for a few seconds before he smirked subtly and crashed his lips on yours in a deep, wet kiss, with his tongue forcing its way past your lips; as his fingers continued to draw circles over your clit.

You let out a loud moan, which made chan cover your mouth with his hand as he started finger fucking you.

Chan started to leave sloppy, wet kisses all over the skin of your neck as he was making a mess between your legs; the room was filled with the sound of him fingering you.

"Chan I need more” You whined.

"Please, please I can’t wait any longer." Your fingers were now pulling his curly hair.

"Someone’s eager” Chan stood up slightly and yanked off your panties, throwing them onto the floor of his room; then he finished to take his sweatpants down his legs with his boxer.

"Channie please." You were desperate for his touch.

"Please what, baby? Use your words" Chan smirked at you before his hand cups your chin and tilts your head up, making you look at him.

“Fuck me… please” you whined as he leaned down between your open legs and felt him align himself with your entrance; you tried to don’t let out a moan.

His free hand moved between your legs and he runs his finger across your folds, loving the way you react.

He slowly slided into you, letting out a guttural moan; meanwhile one of his hand was on your thigh to keep you still.

"Oh fuck." He muttered under his breath as he starts moving. "You feel so good."

You on the other hand were a whining mess. Not able to form a sentence.

Your moan and the sound of skin on skin fill the room, along with Chan’s groans and heavy breathing. He was thrusting deeply into you; making you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull lightly.

He moans before pushing back into you with a deep thrust that makes your body shudder.

Unfortunately, when you were close, Chan froze. Both of you heard the shower water stop. You guessed it had to be Jeonjin coming out of the shower.

"Fuck." He moaned starting to moving again, this time faster and deeper. "You like making me this desperate, mh?.”

“Chan i’m-“ you tried to put up a sentence but before you could, your orgasm hit you. You tightened around him as his thrusts didn't stop. You were shaking in the grip of pleasure.

"Chan” you moaned, your body still in daze from the orgasm. "Please cum inside, I wanna feel you."

"You want me to come inside, baby?” His pace picking up once again. He buries his face back into your neck leaving more wet kisses on your skin “you sure?” He asks just in case, knowing you were on birth control.

"Please, Chan” a few more movements and you feel him release himself inside of you, slowly; You whined due to the overstimulation, and he pulled out, laying down next to you.

He pulled you closer to him as both of you trie to get your breathing under control. After a few moments he speaks "You know, sometime I’m grateful for Jeonjin and his long showers."

tags:

(comment to be added)

[purplecoffee13]

Please Please Please - Pt 2* (final)

Summary: “A sudden call from Harry in the middle of the night makes you realize just how little you actually know about your neighbor.”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: angst, fighting, cursing, SMUT, bit of a degradation kink, multiple orgasms, GUN KINK, corruption kink

A/N: Hey guys! As promised, here is part 2 of Pls Pls Pls. It is quite a sudden 180 from the previous part, so try not to get whiplash. Enjoy!! :)

General Masterlist

Spending your Sunday night at a police station bailing out your neighbor was definitely not on your list of preferred weekend activities. But here you are, sitting on a chair, waiting for the officers to bring Harry outside.

You couldn't believe it at first. Of course, you knew it had to be some kind of emergency when your ringing phone woke you up. After all, it was two in the morning, and random calls at two in the morning usually didn't indicate anything good.

"Hello?" Your croaky voice greeted whoever was calling you this late, or early, depending on your lifestyle.

"Hi love. I need your help." You frowned at the sound of Harry talking through the phone.

"Harry?" You questioned.

"Yes, darling?"

"Wha— are you okay? Where are you?" You leaned over your nightstand to turn on the lamp. Your eyes shut tightly at the sudden harsh light, rubbing your eyes as you stifled a yawn.

"I'm fine, I'm at the police station. Listen, I need you to go into my apartment, get the envelope with cash from under my mattress, and then I need you to get over here. Could you do that for me, darling?"

"Uhm, yes. Yes, of course." You got up from your bed and grabbed the first pants you saw. Your movements got to a halt when you realized it would be impossible to even do that. "But wait, I don't have your—"

"There's an extra key in your top kitchen drawer next to the fridge."

"Wha..." your voice trailed off as you buried over to your kitchen and opened the drawer, indeed finding a key that didn't belong to your apartment. "When did you put this here?"

"I'll explain later, I promise. See you in a bit?"

You sighed. What the absolute fuck was going on? This man might just be even more mysterious than you had already thought.

"See you in a bit."

The muffled voices coming from the other side of the door makes your perk up in your seat. Like you had expected, you spot Harry's face through the windows on the door. He is wearing a frown that makes him look very intimidating, and a wave of intense stress hits you.

Who the fuck even is this neighbor of yours?

You are on your feet very quickly when Harry finally walks through the door. Your eyes widen at the state of him. He is wearing a tank top with a dress shirt thrown over it. The dress shirt is scratched open and his entire outfit is dirty. His face is mostly untouched, except for a cut in his eyebrow that is covered in dried blood. He looks rough.

His lips form into a grin when he spots you, but you are having none of it. Your knitted eyebrows make your glare more intense, and you don't even give Harry the opportunity to greet you when he is close enough, because you are already walking towards the exit.

You push the doors open and storm across the parking lot. You hear the chuckling scoff from behind you after the creaking door signals that Harry is hot on your heels.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks almost cockily, strutting behind you. You've arrived at your car, so you turn around to face him, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Are you serious?!" You groan, to which Harry shrugs lazily. "You called me in the middle of the night, asking me to bail you out with money that you've hid in a duffel bag under your bed, which — by the way — I had access to because you planted a spare house key in my apartment! That's what wrong!"

"I told you I'd explain." Harry says, still nonchalant as ever. You can quite literally feel your blood boiling. Why in God's name is he being so relaxed about this? 

"Yeah, you fucking better." You spit out, clenching your jaw as you turn back towards the car. Harry's spiteful voice stops you in your tracks, though.

"Hey! You didn't have to come here, nobody forced you."

When your eyes meet his again, you don't miss the frustration that radiates from his. It is your turn to scoff as you take a few steps towards Harry until you stand in front of him.

"Oh yeah, that's fucking easy," you are about ready to start a fight, but the sight of his bruised face makes you think twice. Instead, you sigh, throwing your arms over each other. "Get in the car, we'll talk at home."

You are about to get back to the car when you realize that Harry isn't following you. You squint at him and the way he is standing there on the parking lot, a wide stance with his hands behind his back. He doesn't do well with following orders or demands, you've learned that about him in these past weeks. But right now, you couldn't care less.

Rolling your eyes, you march back to Harry and grab a fistful of his shirt before pulling him along to the passenger seat. By how easy it is to get him in the car, you figure that he enjoys your current attitude, otherwise he never would've let you boss him around like this.

You aren't interested in whether he likes it or not right now, all you care about it getting home.

The drive is excruciating. The radio fills the silence that neither of you are willing to break. Every shift in his seat and sigh from his mouth manages to make your blood boil. You can't believe he has the nerve to act as if he has the right to be pissed right now.

It is only when the both of you are at your door, and you silently walk into your own apartment, that Harry breaks the silence.

"Where are you going?" He asks, irritated.

"Bed."

"Thought you wanted to talk." His tone his mocking, but you can tell that he is hiding real confusion behind it.

"I decided I'm not in the mood to hear your bullshit excuses right now, maybe tomorrow." You shrug, keys rattling as you open the door.

"So dramatic..." Harry mutters under his breath, but you hear him just fine. You are quick to turn around.

"What did you say?"

Harry shakes his head, sighing. "You heard me. If you're so fucking mad about this, why the fuck did you even come in the first place?"

"Well, what the fuck did you think, Harry?! Did you expect me to be all cool and casual about this?!" You throw your hands up expressively. You turn around and open the door of your apartment, walking in at a furious pace with Harry hot on your heels.

"I told you I'd fucking explain! Jesus Christ... If I'd known you were gonna whine about this so much, I would've called one of my buddies." He says, and it makes you stifle a laugh. Hands on your hips, you take a few steps towards Harry.

"Fine, explain then, tell me what the fuck you were doing in there." You demand, and you notice how his face softens at your calmer yet stern tone. He sighs, looking to the side. Your heart stops for a second, tension growing on your stomach. He is avoiding your gaze. He never avoids it.

"Just— got caught up in a brawl at the pub. Let my buddies take a run for it, but the police did catch me." He says, eyeing your body. You frown, your eyes searching for his but you absolutely cannot get him to look at you.

"You're lying to me." You say, and even though it is merely a suggestive thought, Harry's reaction makes you realize you are speaking the truth. Harry takes a deep breath, shaking his head as if it should be able to convince you. "You're a fucking liar."

You step forward, making sure it is impossible to avoid eye contact with you. "You told me you were letting me know you. But you don't want me to know you. Telling me simple things to give me the illusion that you trust me. Meanwhile your knuckles are constantly covered in bruises and you have duffel bags of money in your bed. Or that gun, in the drawer of your nightstand?"

A furrow grows between Harry's eyebrows at the mention of the gun. "You went through my things?" He growls. You nod calmly.

"I figured I might as well get to know the guy I'm bailing out." You shrug, watching the anger rise to his face.

"Do you have any idea who the fuck you're talking to right now?" He asks, near the brink of a meltdown. His jaw is clenched and he looks like he might kill you.

"No, apparently I don't!" You shout into his face. Harry laughs bitterly, sending a shiver down your spine. He shakes his head and turns around, heading for the door.

"Should've called one of my buddies..." He mutters as he goes to open the door.

"You keep saying that, but you called me." You call out, and Harry looks back at you.

"Yeah, and it was a big fucking mistake. Don't know what I was thinking." He retorts.

"You called me, because you knew that I'd come. Because I care about you and I was worried sick, and because I would come and get you every single fucking time. No matter the situation, no matter the amount of money filled duffel bags you have under your bed, no matter the gun you sleep next to every night." You're now standing in front of Harry, looking up at him. The confrontation in your sentence is rubbing him the wrong way, you can see it in his face. You continue anyway; he needs to hear it.

"But you're too much of a pussy to admit that someone cares about you, unconditionally, because that would make it all a bit too real, wouldn't it? But I'm not disposable, you can't just cut me out of your life whenever you please. That's not how this works."

That strikes a nerve. Harry steps even closer, leaning down a little bit. "You have no fucking idea how easily I can cut you out of my life."

"Go, then." You cross your arms, waiting for him to walk out that door. Your words are cocky, and you are confident in what you are saying, but a small part of you worries that maybe you've miscalculated your connection with Harry.

Harry doesn't say anything, merely scoffing at your casual words. He wants to turn around, walk out, and never come back. To prove to you just how disposable you are. But he can't, because you aren't.

"For fucks sake..."

The words fall from his lips in a whisper, and before you can figure out what he means, Harry lunges forward and grabs your head to pull it close to him, his lips pressing against yours.

You moan at the feel of his tongue intertwining with yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. There is so much anger, frustration, sadness, love, and other indescribable things that built the intensity of the kiss. Nothing could've prepared you.

He pushes you against the wall, his hands taking all over your body while yours are tangling themselves in his beautiful curls. With a hand on your lower back, Harry pulls your body closer to his, your bodies almost as close as your tongues are now. You need more of him.

Taking ahold of your thighs, Harry lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom, where he drops you onto the bed. Your back hasn't even entirely hit the mattress before Harry's hands start undressing you. He takes off your shoes and pants in no time, the both of you way too pent up to take your time right now. Then, he slides your underwear down your legs and throwing it into the corner of the room.

Three of his fingers trace over your upper body before he pushes down your lower jaw and stuffs them in your mouth.

"Suck." He orders.

You do as he says, licking and sucking on his fingers like it is the last thing you are ever allowed to do. After a couple seconds, Harry takes back his fingers, and leans down, spitting on your pussy himself. A whimper leaves your mouth the second the liquid comes in contact with your sensitive skin, and you moan loudly when he starts to rub it over your cunt.

"You're so fucking frustrating. Shouting at me, cursing me out..." He mentions. Two of his wet fingers enter your pussy, and you let your head fall back. Refraining yourself from arching into him too much already, you try and focus on something—anything— else. "You're such a brat... and you don't even know who you're dealing with."

Mewling at the feeling of his amazing touch, you manage to croak out. "Show me, then."

"What, sweetheart?" Harry asks with a fake smile. In fact, it seems rather devilish. It shouldn't turn you on even more, but for some fucked up reason it does.

"Show me who I'm dealing with."

A low chuckle escapes his throat. You frown, not amused with the apparent joy he gets from what you're saying. You're being completely serious.

"I don't think you can handle that, sweetheart." He smirks, and it makes you pout.

"Yes, I can." You argue, the frown on your face combined with your big Bambi eyes making you look adorably mad. Harry sighs, clearly entertained by your stubbornness. Without another word, he leans forward and digs his head between your legs. You cry out at the contact of his tongue with your clit, and repeatedly moan his name at the mix of his fingers and tongue driving you properly insane.

Your hips keep shooting upward, and Harry tries to contain your non-stop squirming by pushing down your hips with his free arm. He doesn't restrain you entirely, liking the view of you falling apart for him too much anyway.

When you reach your climax, your hand has found Harry's hair, on which you mercilessly tug while making a mess below him. After riding out your high, Harry grabs your arm and scoops an arm around your waist before picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?!" You shriek, being able to do nothing but hang over him like a ragdoll as he walks out of the bedroom and, towards the front door?

You gasp when he opens the door and you find yourself in the hallway, without any pants on. You hear the sound of keys jingling and a door open, and before you can demand Harry let you go, he waltzes into his own apartment.

His dark walls and furniture are the exact opposite of your apartment. Very manly, very serious.

Harry puts you down, laying you on his couch. He leans forward, his hand sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast. You bite your lip at the feeling of his firm hands massaging you.

"You wanna know me? You want to know who you're dealing with?" He whispers, and you nod furiously, not being able to go without his touch down there for much longer. "We'll start with a house tour then. This is the living room."

You frown, it's not like his apartment is much different from yours. You look around the room, but your attention is back on Harry the second his mouth is back on your cunt. You mewl, not having expected his mouth on you again so soon.

Harry's skilled tongue along with the sensitivity from your first orgasm gets you closer and closer in an almost embarrassingly short time. Your legs try to control the amount of pleasure that you are getting, but Harry's hands keep spreading them apart, leaving you with no choice but to take everything he gives you.

"I— I'm gonna come!" You groan, that tension in your stomach so close to exploding. He keeps the quick paced tempo with which his tongue is assaulting your clit, and in no time you are twitching as your orgasm washes over you. Harry moans at the way you cry out his name, and licks you clean despite the pleas that tell him to stop because you're too sensitive.

You don't have time to steady your breathing, because Harry is already pulling you up and leading you to the kitchen. He doesn't waste any time, taking off your shirt, leaving you entirely naked. You watch as he takes your body in, your mind too cloudy to feel insecure. But with the way Harry looks at you, you don't think you would've worried about that in the first place.

His eyes rake down your body as he takes off his belt, and walks closer to you. Your hands reach forward, wanting to take off his shirt, but Harry grabs one of your wrists and turns you around. Taking ahold of the other wrist, he ties your hands together with his belt before bending you over his counter.

"My house, my rules." His low voice reminds you, making you shiver in anticipation. You hear some ruffling behind you, and you can only figure that Harry has taken off his pants. His hand rubs over your skin, lowering from your waist to your ass.

"Poor girl, you have no idea what you got yourself into." He taunts, his cock lining up with your pussy, the top of him stroking over your soaking wet cunt. You whine at the minimal contact, needing him to enter you right this second. You flinch forward, moaning loudly when Harry brings his hand down onto your ass. The sting of it almost makes you cry, you want him so bad.

"Please, please... please." you cry, pushing yourself backwards and into him. He pushes you back forward, tutting you.

"So desperate..."

Not being able to hold it any longer, Harry plunges his hard cock into you. A muffled cry escapes your throat, shocked by the size and girth of him. Of course you aren't entirely surprised—he just exceeds that kind of energy—but you hadn't dreamed of it being this big.

"Ah, shit! Harry... oh my god!" The string of words summed up exactly what you were feeling as he thrusted himself into you over and over again: everything.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this..." He says, his hands sliding up and down your back. "Ever since you knocked on my fucking door wearing nothing but that oversized shirt."

"And now here you are, bent over my counter, letting me fuck you in every corner of my apartment." He groans, spanking your ass again. You shoot forward at the impact, moaning at the painful feeling. You didn't know that turned you on so much until now.

"W— What took you so long?" You have the nerve to ask him, but by the laugh that sounded from behind you, it seems that Harry likes your boldness.

"I'm a bad guy, sweetheart. Didn't want to ruin you." He coos, which is extremely contradicting to the harsh thrusts with which he drives himself into you. "But I guess that's too late now."

"I was yours to ruin anyway." You say softly, and it makes Harry still inside of you, followed by a very deep groan. You frown when you feel Harry pulling his cock out of you, confused by the sudden change.

"Fuck, baby. You can't just say shit like that to me, nearly made me come." He is breathing heavily, and tugs on your arms to make you stand up straight. He begins to walk away and grabs your arm, taking you with him. You follow him all the way to a door, which you realize is his bedroom as soon as he opens it.

You are about to ask him about a photograph that his hanging on his wall, when he pushes you onto the bed. Hands still tied behind your back, you let Harry get you a little bit higher on the bed before positioning himself in front of you again.

He spreads your legs as wide as he can, fingers dug into your waistline as he enters you again. You let your head fall back, knitting your eyebrows at how those short seconds without his cock have made his second time entering feel just as tight as the first time. Harry seems to think the same thing, moaning loudly at the tightness of you.

Arching your back, Harry gets an amazing view of your tits bouncing back and forth as he fucks you like you're some sort of ragdoll. He can't help but reach for your breasts again, playing with them and trying not too orgasm too soon upon hearing your loud moans.

You feel like you are on sensory overload. The restraint, the nipple stimulation, and Harry's cock pounding into you, it is bringing you into another galaxy. You never thought it was possible to feel this much pleasure at the same time.

"You are mine to ruin." Harry mumbles, as if reminding himself. You nod at his words, wholeheartedly agreeing with that. If ruining meant him fucking you like this every day, then he could do whatever he wanted.

"Mm, you love that, don't you?" He asks. You open your eyes to look at him, a devilish smile forming on your face. "You love that I'm the monster who you're supposed to be running from. I bet you fantasize about it all the time; the big bad guy corrupting you from your innocence by fucking you into oblivion."

"Yes, yes, yes..." you repeat, too fucked out to say anything else.

"Such a bad girl, getting pounded by her dangerous neighbor." He taunts you, increasing his already quick pace. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting the pleasure just wash over you. You feel like you might pass out any minute, but you've also never felt more alive. "You'd let me do it all, won't you?"

"Anything." You pant, struggling to keep your eyes open. You shriek when Harry thrusts into you very deeply and stays there for a couple seconds, leaning over you to grab something. You gasp when you Harry holding his gun. Before you can ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doing, he starts moving again.

It shouldn't be the reason why you're so close to your orgasm all of a sudden, but the sight of Harry holding that gun is quite literally driving you insane. You can't believe it, it is the hottest thing you have ever seen.

To your surprise, he begins to trace lines over your body with the barrel of the gun. You whimper at the cold feeling of the object against your skin, not sure how long you're going to be able to hold in that third orgasm. Then, the gun travels upwards, all the way to your mouth, and your eyes widen when the words leave Harry's pink lips.

"Suck."

You look down at the gun, and back at him, a bit unsure of how safe it is, despite wanting to obey him very badly.

"Safety's on." He adds, calming your nerves a bit. And without a second thought, without considering you are doing a very dangerous thing right now, you take the gun in your mouth. In spite of Harry's vagueness, you trust him very much.

And so you begin sucking on the gun, moaning at the way Harry reacts to it. His thrusts increase in speed and intensity, and the way he massages your breasts are getting you incredibly close.

"Fuck, you're insane. You're fucking perfect." His compliments have you clenching your walls around him, something he doesn't miss. "Are you gonna come for me again, baby? Should've known that danger turns you on so much. Will do anything to keep me close, huh? Even taking my gun in your mouth while you get ruined by my cock."

"Yes, anything—oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" The words are barely comprehensible with your mouth still filled up with the barrel of his gun, but your body tells Harry enough. Licking the pad of his thumb, he brings it to your clit, rubbing circles until you are a blubbering mess under him. You feel like jelly.

The way you are tightening around him sets off Harry's orgasm. He groans out your name repeatedly as he comes inside of you. The feeling of him coating your walls is a thought you find yourself liking a bit too much for a regular person.

Nothing could've prepared you for this, for him. He takes the gun out of your mouth and puts it back on the nightstand. He keeps his body leaned over you, held up by his own two arms. His hair falls in front of his face, making it a bit more difficult to find your eyes. The both of you are panting heavily, and Harry smiles at your fucked out face.

Slipping a hand underneath your waist, Harry leans back and takes you with him, making you sit up straight. He unties your wrists, throwing the belt on the floor.

"Let's get you to the bathroom, hmm? Last part of the tour." He says, gently picking you up and carrying you over to his bathroom. When he puts you down, you have to hold yourself upright by holding on to the sink. Harry closes the door, giving you some privacy as you pee and check out your face in the bathroom. You wipe off the excess mascara that rests on your cheeks, smiling at the memory of what just happened.

When you get back to Harry's room, he has his boxers back on. At the sight of you, he grabs a t-shirt from the bed and hands it over to you. You put it on without question, only realizing that it is a Rolling Stones t-shirt when you catch yourself in the mirror.

"Got you some water." He points to the nightstand, and indeed, standing next to the gun there is a glass of water. You walk over to it and take a few sips, your eyes falling back on the gun.

"C'mere." Harry's voice interrupts your thoughts, and when you look up, you see that he has sat down. Crawling onto the bed, you join him.

He takes your chin in your hands, his face moving closer to you. "I want you to know that I'm not the safest guy to be around, and I understand if you want to walk away from this. But if you decide to stay, I promise I will keep you safe."

"So this is not going to be the last time that I'm gonna have to bail you out of jail?" You ask, partly joking, as you climb over him to sit on his lap.

"I'll be more careful." He responds, and his avoidance of your question gives you an answer. You nod, your face getting a bit more serious as you think about this a little bit more.

"Should I be scared?" You pout, not knowing if you would be able to handle constant fear. Harry shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

"Like you said, people are afraid of me, not necessarily the other way around." His fingertips dance around your thighs. "I'll keep it separated. And, unless for pleasure intended purposes, I won't ever use that gun around you."

You sigh. "Don't prove the people in this town right, okay? Don't be someone I have to run from."

Harry pulls you close, bringing your lips to his. It is a short and sweet kiss, one filled with the reassurance of a promise.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

taglist: @mellamolayla @natedelrey

[mywritersmind]

RULE NO.1 - LN

summary : fewtrell!sister. The one rule Max keeps strict with Lando is to stay away from his sister! Lando has always teased the girl but as she returns from college to crash at Max’s, it’s not so much of a joke anymore.

warning : kissing kissing kissing!

word count : 1740

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

My brother has always had one rule with Lando, that is, ‘No, Under so circumstances, can you ever do ANYTHING with my sister.’ After I had my first kiss with said F1 driver, Max vetoed anything between us.

Of course there was nothing there, we were twelve and I had a tiny crush on him. But Lando is nothing if not mischievous.

He flirts. That’s the way he gets around the silly rule. His touches linger, his words tease me, and his eyes say anything he forgot.

Max absolutely hates it, especially with Landos track record with girls, it’s become a way to protect me and his own friendship.

I don’t exactly hate it. It’s a hot guy flirting with me, why would I hate it? Still, maybe my teeny tiny crush never fully left my mind. And with his meaningless words comes my own meaningful feelings.

“You look good.” I can see Lando in the reflection of the TV. He sips his tea, and leans against the counter.

He's in running shorts and a Quadrant shirt.

“Thank you.” I haven’t seen Lando in more than a year. I’ve been in my last year at Uni and his career has been crazier than ever. I would be fine around him… except that the last time I saw him it was new years. And he kissed me.

He kissed me and it’s lived rent free in my head for over a year. Max doesn’t know, of course he doesn’t because Lando is still in one piece.

Our whole childhood I was just the little sister who sometimes would beat them at mario kart. I’m two years younger, nothing crazy, yet Max seems to think it’s illegal for Lando to see me in shorts.

“Where’s my brother?” I ask, turning the page of my book without reading any words.

“Running.” He shrugs, “He’s slow.” I hear Landos footsteps come closer, then his bent over body leans against the back of the couch, making our heads next to each other.

He's turned toward me, I refuse to take my eyes off this book. “Why? You don’t trust us alone?”

Fuck Max and his slow ass.

I turn to face him, not letting myself feed his ego, “I don’t trust Max’s judgment of us alone.”

Landos slow smirk that tormented me throughout my childhood drifts back onto his face, “He’s right though.”

I sigh and close my book, getting up and walking to the kitchen, “He’s not here, Norris. You don’t have to play like that.”

“Play like what?” He turns to face me, wanting me to say it. “Oh i’m sorry, Your boyfriend wouldn’t approve?”

I hate the way he knows me because he clocks the way my lips pull into a thin line immediately, “You broke up?”

“It was mutual.” I say quickly.

“You dumped him.” He laughs out loud, walking closer to me, “God, Y/N please tell me he cried.” he did cry, actually.

I pivot and grab an apple for myself. I bite into it and Lando takes the time to assess me. I suddenly feel naked in sweats and a tank top.

“You’re one to talk. You cried after Kelly Allen kissed another boy on the playground.”

“That was in primary school!”

I laugh as he gets defensive, “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait! Come on, humor me a bit more.” He steps closer and I step backwards.

“Goodnight, Lando.” I turn around.

“Goodnight, Gorgeous.” His words make me spin on my heels.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” He fakes innocence.

“Stop being a flirt! You’re never serious around me and it’s getting annoying.” Something in his face changes then.

“Why would you think I’m not being serious?”

The door opens right as he says it, my brother stomping in as I back away from Lando, “I- Hate- You!” he pants as Landos whole demeanor changes to casually laughing at his friend. “Oh- Y/N!” Max catches his breath, “Lando is staying here tonight so… the couch is officially closed.”

I roll my eyes and lock myself into Max’s guest bedroom. This is going to be a long night.

____

I can’t sleep.

I can’t stop thinking about Lando sleeping right outside my door.

I need water, I decide.

I slip on my Brandy Melville shorts and adjust my thin tank top, walking out into the dark kitchen.

When I open the fridge I basically get blinded. Why the fuck is this light so bright!? I’m not the only one it bothers because the body on the couch stirs, “Hmm?” Lando groans and sits up, looking at me with sleepy confusion.

I grab the water pitcher and shut the door quickly, though by this time my eyes have adjusted to the dark and can properly see Lando.

Lando who’s in gray sweats.

Lando who’s in gray sweats, only.

“Sorry.” I whisper, turning to face the cabinet and trying to grab a glass.

I didn’t even notice he got off of the couch until I felt him behind me, reaching up to grab the cup that I couldn't reach.

“Thanks.” I duck under his arm. He's not even that much taller than me!

“Thirsty?” He says in a raspy voice. I pour my water with a slightly shaky hand.

“That would explain the water.” I say in a sassy tone. He chuckles a bit and leans against the counter top, his hands holding onto the marble.

I turn to face him, sipping my water. He checks me out then. With no shame at all! His hot gaze sweeps across my body for the second time today.

“Amused?” I ask innocently as his eyes meet mine.

“With you? Always.” He says without missing a beat, “I wasn’t joking, you know.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“You said I'm never serious around you. But I've never lied to you.” my heart rate raises. I'm grateful we’re in the dark so he can’t see my pink cheeks.

“Lando. You shouldn’t say that.” I try to keep my eyes above his bare torso, I'm not doing too well.

“Why? Cause of Max? Fuck Max.” He’s closer to me now, he places his hands on both sides of my waist, bracing himself against the counter, “I think about that kiss every day.”

“We were twelve, I think it’s time to get over it.” I shrug, teasing him. He puts his head down, shaking it.

“I hate you.” Our eyes lock again.

I can hear his breathing, “No you don’t.”

His eyes glance to my lips, “No I don’t.” I watch him hesitate, once. Only once. His lips are on mine in an instant after that.

He feels so familiar yet so changed. This isn’t like how he kissed me on new years, this is new, this is right.

I grip onto anything I can, wanting him closer. His hands move to my hips, slipping his finger under the waist of my shorts.

“Lan-” I try to say but he cuts me off by kissing me. “Lando.” I say again, his mouth moving to my neck so I can talk. “We’re gonna wake up-”

He stops kissing me and suddenly I'm lifted onto the countertop, the ice cold marble freezing my ass. “Love, you’re gonna have to not think about that. Alright?” The way he says it makes me want to squeeze my legs together.

I nod, unable to speak before kissing him again. He slips his tongue into my mouth and holds my waist tight. Landos touch makes me think I'm going to melt right onto the floor.

My head hits the cabinets behind me but I don’t care, I wrap my arms around his neck, having him in between my legs still.

His hand moves to my cheek, kissing me desperately. He pushes his hand back into my hair, shamelessly tugging at it. I whimper as my head nods backwards. I hear his quickened breathing against me, his lips dragging down my chin and neck.

“Fuck, do that again.” He presses wet kisses down my chest, gripping my boob under my shirt. Right on cue, I whimper again as he runs his finger over my nipple. “Good girl.”

Landos hand finds itself in my hair once again, wrapping it around his knuckles. I want him so bad and I hate him for doing this here.

When he pulls on my hair once more, I knew he fucked up. The moan I let out is raw and too loud for us trying to stay quiet.

He slaps his hand over my mouth, his eyes darting up to my face. We go silent, waiting for some sign that Max is awake or heard us.

We wait.

Nothing comes.

I look at him and lick his hand, “Ugh!” He whisper yells.

I laugh quietly, “Your own doing.”

He shakes his head and lets it drop onto my shoulder as we fall into silent laughter. I poke his side, “You like me.”

He just rolls his eyes and pushes his hair back, still panting a bit, “You like me.”

“With the way you kiss, I better.” I smirk as he drags his hand down his face.

I watch him adjust his pants, earning me a raised brow and a smirk. I push his face away from me and hop off the counter, I attempt to fix my hair but I’m still being stared at by Lando.

“You really are gorgeous, ya know?” His words surprise me, making my already hot body even worse.

“I appreciate it.”

“Let me take you out.”

“We haven’t seen eachother in a year- what makes you think this year will be any different?” He bites his lip, holding onto my hips one last time.

“We can make it work.”

“But Ma-” I try to say.

Lando rolls his eyes. “He never wanted us to fuck around-”

“Like we just did…” I interrupt.

He keeps going, “But I like you.” I can’t help but smile, “And I don’t care if he doesn’t like that.”

“Look at you… sticking up to my brother.”

He smiles, running his tongue over his teeth before kissing me, “Goodnight for real, Gorgeous.”

He lets go of me as I turn around, “Goodnight, Lando.”

[kissforyouu]

ribbons & affection ♡

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff , smut

warnings : RIBBONS!!! 🎀 , sexual content : jk is tied up , p in v , breast play , switch!reader , switch!jk , tit fucking , guided masterbation , creampie , nudes

a/n : this was inspired by this video!! AND HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY😭😭!! btw i made like a whole text au but forgot tumblr had a limited number for pics so i couldn't include it in ughh😫😫

not proofread.

"hi."

jungkook stares at you from your door, across the living room. he was dressed in black from head to toe, as usual. big puffer jacket, baggy pants and a tank top with a few of his rings on. his body was leaned against the doorframe as he waited for your response.

"you're here!" you squeel, excited to see your boyfriend. especially after your...little argument yesterday. it was childish, really. jungkook was a massive tease. he would tease you about quite literally everything. and maybe yesterday he took it a little too far by making a comment about his exes. multiple exes to say the least :). obviously, you got fucking mad. he was talking about how he never really felt anything real for any of them, except maybe one. obviously that made you feel a bit insecure. what if he feels the same towards you as well? and he's just playing you?

no, he wouldn't do all of this if he was. you're sure. you're very sure! right? he's your jungkookie.

brushing away all those thoughts away, you skip your way towards your boyfriend, only stopping a foot away from him. you look up at your man, arms behind your back with a small smile that's threatening to widen.

jungkook's lips press thinly against eachother as if he's going to say something, but he stops and drops whatever he was holding. next thing, his arms immediately wrap around your body, pulling you to his chest. like this, jungkook wraps his entire body around yours. your nose nuzzled deep in his neck with his arms securely wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other around your back.

your boyfriend bear hugs you for about a minute, gently rocking your body sideways. god, this feels nice. the moment he wrapped his arms around you, it was like everything was fine again. there was some obvious tension still, until the moment before he hugged you like this. your body was relaxed, almost lifelessly laying in his arms.

slowly, you place your palms on his back, hugging him back. jungkook hums in satisfaction, the tip of his tongue in your hair.

"my sweet girl." his embrace felt so warm and safe. you never want to let go.

"i missed you so much." he mumbles into your hair. just as you were about to slowly pull away, he pulls back into his embrace by grabbing your wrists. "let me hold you." he kisses the top of your head.

there is a familiar warm feeling spreading around your stomach. jungkook! >.<!

you just let the man embrace you in silence, squeezing your body over and over again until he feels completely comfortable and fit.

about a minute pass by, so you decided to break the silence.

"you missed me that much?"

"the fuck i look like to you? of course, i did." jungkook pinches the skin on your waist, making you squeak. his hand shifts places to under your butt, lifting your body up effortlessly next. he adjusts you in his hold, both hands under your butt to hold you up. jungkook sighs, comforted, as he walks into your house.

"my stuff!" you whine, hand reaching towards your bag full of goodies on the floor.

"is that all you care about?" the man holding you grunts.

"yup! duh." you pinch his ear.

"we should break up then—"

"no. you're not funny, kook." jungkook snickers in return, hand patting your back. he sits on your couch, pulling you closer to his body. gosh, if he could, he'd dig inside his body to have you rest under his skin. he wants to be as close to you as possible.

"y/n, oh my god." jungkook takes a deep breath, thumb caressing the dimple on your cheek as you smile. "yeah?", "baby, i love you so much." he hugs you again, practically squeezing you. you just giggle, cheeks heating up. "oh my god, you're so cute, jungkook!" you coo, hand gently petting his head.

"i'm not cute." his voice comes out muffled. "yes, you are!" "no, don't call me that." jungkook huffs, groaning into your neck. "the way you said that made you even cuter." you giggle. you pull him out of your embrace stand up on his thighs, both hands holding his face up.

"look at you! your head is like a circle!" there you go again.

"oh fuck, baby. give it a rest." jungkook's back is slouched against the back as he watched you fondle his cheeks. "smileee!" jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. you frown, lightly slapping your boyfriend's cheeks. you boyfriend couldn't help but grin a little, the corner of his lips twitching upwards but it quickly conceals it by puffing his cheeks.

"give me a biiig smile, baby." you pinch the tip of his ears. jungkook shakes his head again, clearly saying no. you begin by kissing the tip of his nose, then trailing more up his nose bridge, ending with a soft kiss on his forehead. your cheeks are already heated up as you caress your boyfriend's cheeks, kissing them afterwards. there's faint stains of lip gloss all over his face by now.

"smileeee!" jungkook looks away from you, trying to keep his smile from breaking out. but your charms were just too good. your boyfriend couldn't help but smile widely, followed by a giggle. ack! so cute!

quickly, you push your index fingers forward to poke his dimples. jungkook's laughter fills your ears as you continued to poke his dimples.

"did you bring the ribbons by the way?"

"wait—" pause. "you were being forreal?" jungkook squints his eyes, trying to read you.

"yeah?" you pout.

"i just—well, thought you were joking. one sec." jungkook signals you to move out of his lap before he walks towards the bag laying on the floor. he brings the bag to you, pulling out a roll of pink ribbon. he throws it at you and watches it bounce off your chest to your lap.

"now what?" your now curious boyfriend stares at you, waiting for you to do something.

"i'm going to fuck you!" god. such filthy words coming out of someone who looks so innocent.

you stare back at your boyfriend with your eyes wide, a cheeky smile adorning your lips. your fingers fondled with the lace of his sweatpants, sneaking its way upwards and under his tank top. the tips of your fingers make contact with his hard abs as they traced imaginary lines all over.

"little fucking minx." jungkook cusses out.

with a giggle, you sit up on the sofa, pulling down his sweats upto his mid thighs to expose his boxers, semi hard cock very much visible.

teasingly, you bend down to press a kiss to his clothed cock. jungkook's breath hitches, excited. but the excitement vanishes away the moment you pull away and let the sweatpants go back to its original spot.

"what?" "what?" you giggle at his visible confusion.

"weren't you gonna suck my dick?"

"ew! no!" you laugh, slapping jungkook's torso. you get back on your feet before kissing your boyfriend's cheek and skipping your way back to your bedroom. huh? were you gonna fuck him in your room then? before jungkook could even find out, he hears you locking your room.

"Y/N? you can't possibly lock me out of your room after doing that!" the helpless man shouts.

but the ding coming from his phone distracts him, especially your contact appearing right on top. you had sent him a message. now?

baby❤️ : take ur pants off and wait on the couch🤭 p.s. leave the boxers on :) AND CLOSE UR EYES PLS

what the fuck were you planning? er, jungkook didn't care. he was thrilled by this. all he wanted was to burry his cock deep in your cunt.

so far into your relationship, you've never really initiated things yourself. it's always been him suggesting things to try in bed. you've only brought up topics maybe once or twice. so this is definitely rare. it wasn't just you suggesting it, but you were acting on it right on the moment too. so correction: jungkook was far more than thrilled for this. the thought itself got his dick standing up proud and tall.

he made sure to listen to all your orders. your boyfriend was sitting on the couch in his boxers, legs wide spread and waiting for you. he was debating whether to take his shirt off or not. i mean, you didn't tell him to do so. but you also didn't tell him not to. uh. er. maybe—

"kook, are you ready?~" your sweet voice fills his ears, catching his attention and eyes directing towards your room.

"you want me to close my eyes?" jungkook's eyes shut after the loud yes you shout okay.

once you felt like you were ready with....this?!?! you slowly open the door, trying to not make a sound. you tip toe towards you impatient (and horny) boyfriend on the couch with a tight smile and immediately place your palm on his eyes, blinding his vision.

because of the sudden action, jungkook flinches, hands immediately landing on your thigh—more specifically, your garter.

you freeze, head lowered to see jungkook's finger hooking onto the garter. you watch his lips slowly turn upwards to a smirk, quickly picking on what's happening. his other hand joins the feast, gripping onto your other thigh, slowly sliding up your smooth skin and meeting your ass cheeks. his fingertips touch the thin fabric covering your cunt.

"ha!" jungkook laughs, body falling back against the sofa with a slap to your asscheek. "can i open my eyes now?"

you pout, eyebrows frowned in annoyance. whining, you talk, "ugh! i wanted to surprise you. why do you always have to find out everything?"

"doesn't matter. can i open them now? pleasepleasepleaseplease—" "okay."

jungkook's eyes immediately open, and the sight in front almost makes him faint. fucking hell. he didn't know where to look. your face? your tits? ass? uh, i don't know? fuck.

you were wearing a beautiful baby pink lace lingerie set. it was barely covering you, of course, but teased jungkook just the perfect amount. oh fuck. the lace was so thin and fit your body perfectly, decorating you as if you were some prop. the lace had little bows adorning it, along with small roses. his eyes were glued to tour beautiful round tits, secured within the flimsy material. but one thing caught his attention. fuck, he was rock hard. it was the beautiful J necklace he had gifted you a while earlier, sitting perfectly in between your pretty tits.

"shit, baby." jungkook touches the pendant, thumb swiping over the shiny letter. he traces the chain of the necklace upto your neck, giving you goosebumps along the way. jungkook's finger slides over your shoulder blade and down your arm before it lands back on your pendant. he grabs your left breast, squeezing it. he loved how your hard nipples were seen through the useless little material. couldn't help but swipe his thumb over the material a few times, making you let out a whimper here and there.

and the beauty doesn't even stop there.

jungkook's eyes travel downwards, met with your pretty pussy covered with nothing but the little lace fabric. and oh, oh shit— his eyes widen at the crotchless panties you were wearing. with little bows attached to both hipsters.

"dirty fucking girl." he laughs, hand gripping onto the flesh of your ass.

"you like it?" you tilt your head to the side with a small grin on your face.

"i love it, baby. gimme a twirl." jungkook pats your ass and motions you to do what he asked. you happily accept, taking a few steps back to give him the full view. you begin to twirl around slowly. jungkook enjoys the view with a small smile.

"so pretty, baby. dolled up all for me." he bites his lower lip. "uh huh." you nod.

"c'mere. lemme feel you, princess."

"nuh uh." you refuse, shaking your head from side to side.

"fuck it, what's it now?"

jungkook didn't know what to expect this time. he knew you were nervous about it, judging by your body language. you were standing awkwardly, hands pinned to your back while nibbling on your lower lip. what would make his baby so nervous? shit, maybe, you'll let him have your ass for the first time—

"press your hands to your back."

maybe not.

"no. wanna touch you." you knew this would happen.

"please? pleaasee?" you whine.

"no, sweetheart. not doing that. i need to feel you up." jungkook shakes his head.

"c'mon, kook. for me? pretty please?" you smile. you smile so beautifully that it almost makes jungkook drop down to his knees. fuck, was he down bad.

"yea, yea, fine." he grunts, hands pinned to his back now. you happily scoot over, grabbing the roll of ribbons and tying them around jungkook's wrists.

so that's what they were for? jungkook thinks.

when he thought you were finally done, he watches you bend downwards to tie two bows around his naked thighs. then you proceed to do the same to his biceps.

"i feel like a coquette porcelain doll."

"you are! my princess." you hold up his face by his chin, squeezing his cheeks again.

"i hope nobody ever finds out about this." jungkook groans.

nah. jungkook doesn't care. he didn't give a shit, to be honest. you were his girl. he'd put on anything you give him. hell, he'd walk around naked in the streets if you had asked him. with you, he became vulnerable. something he never was before. he'd put on the girliest princess dress and go out if you had asked. in fact, jungkook would rather be proud. to call you his girl of course :). "my girl made me wear this."

"don't worry, won't tell anyone." you kiss the tip of his nose as a reward. you gently push his back by his shoulders, making him rest against the sofa.

perfect! your boyfriend looked like a coquette princess. he looked yummy.

for a second, your mind goes blank, utterly blank. what do you do now? you've never switched the roles during sex...yet. you've always been the submissive one while jungkook handled everything.

"need help?" jungkook's shiteating grin just motivates you to do better. you'll prove him wrong. yeah!

you mutter a small no. you begin by kneeling down in front of your boyfriend, right in between his legs. his hard on was very visible through the thin material of his black calvein klein boxers, even staining it a little as well. you lean forward to press a kiss to where his tip was. licking some precum off the boxer as well.

jungkook hums in approval once you start to pepper kisses all over his boxers, finger hooking to the waistband of his boxers to pull them down. once you've fully taken them off, you begin by stroking the base of his cock up and down. very slowly.

the slow pace of your hands was slowly starting to drive jungkook mad. he wanted you to fasten up, or use your mouth, just do something that'll make him cum. but at the same time, he found it arousing. his girlfriend, usually the one who's begging to get fucked with a pillow in between her legs, taking control and using his cock however she pleased.

jungkook starts to thrust his cock into your hands, begging for more friction. and who are you to oppose. heh. you give in, moving your hands faster on his cock. meanwhile, you also leaned forward to kitten lick his red tip.

wrong. he so desperately wanted you to deepthroat his cock right now.

"fuck, baby, the things i would've done if i had my hands freed right now."

that's just for the play, by the way. only a fool would think that jungkook really felt trapped by those skimpy ribbons. he could easily break out. he's just letting you have your fun for now. you both knew that. such a good boyfie!

you giggle in response before spitting a globe of spit onto his cock. before it slides down his cock, you flatten your tongue on it and spread the spit all over his cockhead. you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, gently sucking on it.

you pull his tip out of your mouth with a pop. jungkook looks at you befuddled, then he tries to touch you. but oh—yeah, the ribbons. he thinks twice and settles on not breaking out of the ribbons.

you reach out your arm to grab the pillow on the couch, then placing it under your knees so that you could sit on it. it gave you some height as well. you look back at your boyfriend with a mischievous smile, then back down at your breasts. your arm travels to your back, your bra, and then slowly unhook it, letting the lingerie material fall down to reveal your perky breasts.

jungkook gasps, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together once you start massaging your breasts while eyeing his cock. shit. he bites his lower lip, watching the way the flesh of your breasts perfectly mold into your hands however you massage it.

your back was arched, chest popping out as you began to stroke his cock with your left hand. meanwhile, your fingers played with your breasts, rolling the little nub in between. jungkook didn't know where to look. your fresh nails set, pretty in pink with cute charms all over, looked so hypnotising wrapped around his cock. you were dripping, it was obvious as you constantly shifted your position on the pillow.

jungkook swears he sees stars once your hand leaves his cock to cup your breasts together and squeeze them. shit.

"put it in, baby." your voice was sultry once you spoke.

jungkook gladly thrusted his hips up, adjusting to the position a little because, well, can't use his hands. your boyfriend slides his cock in between your breasts with a groan, watching the way your breasts squeeze him in just right. he didn't need any lubricant, his cock was wet enough already with precum leaking from the tip.

jungkook begins to thrust his hips up and down sloppily. it was quite hard since his hands were tied. but you decided to help by thrusting your body forward and back to meet the pace of his thrusts. you stare at your boyfriend, whimpering prettily with a layer of sweat covering his face. he looked so pretty like this. cock desperately going in and out of the valley between your boobs. you were slowly starting to like this whole...taking control thing.

"you like this, kook?" you murmur.

your boyfriend laughs, grunting afterwards.

"are you trying to dirty talk to me?"

your eyebrows furrow, "ruined the moment."

he laughs again, tongue swiping over his lower lip. "talk to me. i like hearing your voice."

okay, now you're shy. what do you say now? you mentally cry.

you stay silent, but give him a little nod and continue to let him fuck into your boobs. the louder his moans got, the sloppier his thrusts became. jungkook breaks out a little whine, immediately shutting himself up after that. he's embarrassed, you can see it.

"come on, a little more. you're doing so good, baby." shiiiiit.

he fucks into you faster, but sloppier. just to make it a little easier (heh), you let a globe of spit slide down your chin and fall onto his cock.

"haa—" your boyfriend moans. and with one last thrust, a creamy liquid spurts out of his tip and lands on your chest, some on your chin as well. he could not believe that he came from just your tits. you let go of your breasts once he slips his cock out, sighing and plopping your forehead on the sofa.

you sit back to your previous position after a few seconds. your tits were covered in his cum. a sight to never forget. a sight to never forget, for sure! you snicker as you grabbed the camera on the coffee table behind you.

"where'd that come from?" jungkook talks.

you shush him with a kiss on his sensitive tip. what's gotten to you?

with the camera, you proceed to take multiple pictures of your breasts. squeezed against eachother, cum dripping from your nipples. to spice it more up, you bring in your boyfriend's (still hard) cock to the picture, playing it between your breasts.

"you're so cute, sweetheart. use my cock however you want." his back was resting on the sofa, half lidded eyes watching you use his cock for your cute little pictures.

"my girlfriend's a little whore? whom are you gonna show these pictures to? other guys?" you know he's joking, but you couldn't help but scoff.

"jus' you. i don't like other people. unlike you." you let go of his cock, letting it bounce back.

jungkook snickers, getting a kick out of annoying you.

"you're so mean!" you slap his chest hard.

"c'mon, baby." you place the camera back on the coffee table. pushing jungkook back, you climb onto his lap, strangling his thighs. you were sitting on his thigh, your crotch directly in contact with his skin. it was hard to not just fuck yourself on his thigh. but eh, maybe.

you moan once your clit touches his thigh. hand cupping your pussy, your index finger gently swipe over your clit a few times. so soft. you begin to rub it a little, flicking the little button over and over.

"having fun playing with yourself, princess? touch her nice and slow first, m'kay? add a finger after, she loves that." the way he was talking about your pussy as if it's completely something else around you so much. you lean back on your boyfriend's thigh, leg spread as your fingers played with your princess parts.

your fingers dip in between your folds, fingers getting coated in your wetness. humming in satisfaction with how wet it is, you seperate your folds with your fingers, forming a v shape. jungkook licks his lips, watching your arousal stick to your fingers.

"pinch her for me." jungkook groans once you obey his command, your own fingers pinching your clit for him. "that's right, sweetheart. now rub it slowly." you follow his words, rubbing your clit gently.

"mmh, i want you." you needed him so bad. wanted him to touch you and make you cum over and over. your fingers fasten at the thought, rubbing your clit harshly.

"you want me to touch you? just say the word and i'll touch you, sweet girl." you wanted to slap him across the face. you wanted his hands all over your body. but that meant removing the ribbons. you didn't want to lose control.

"say yes. i'll touch you good, sweetheart. make you feel just fine, yeah?" jungkook coos at the sight of your pussy compulsions. clenching and throbbing, begging for his touch.

"see, she wants me too. just look at her, baby. you have to let me touch her so i could help her out."

"mmmmgh!" you whine, not liking how this is going.

fuck it!

sitting back up on his lap, you pull on his hair to raise his head up so that you could kiss him harshly. you also manage to whine a "fine" in the middle. the moment jungkook got the que, he laughs, breaking out of those stupid little ribbons. your boyfriend lifts you up from below, your ass now sitting on his forearms as he harshly kissed you.

lips smacking eachother, sucking eachother's tongues and whatnot, jungkook didn't let you catch a breath. he was impatient. he wanted to eat you whole then and there.

"all of that just to take it off once i open my mouth, huh? that cock hungry?" jungkook speaks he removes his mouth from you. you just nod, not having any other words to say.

"lay down, pretty."

you impatiently lay down, stumbling on the pillows while you do it. your back was resting on the arm of the sofa with your leg raised up, your boyfriend getting in between your legs. he takes off his tank top with a smirk, throwing it and letting it land wherever in his room. jungkook takes in the sight in front of him.

you sprawled in front of him, pussy dripping while wearing those slutty little panties. what's even point if your whole cunt's exposed? slut, slut, slut. his slut, though. the sparkling jewellery laying on the swell of your breasts catches his attention next. your boyfriend touches it, caressing the charm with his palm.

J.

he liked that a lot. you were his. his woman, his person, his everything in every possible way. you were the love of his life, his trophy. he carried you around like a trophy. always showing you off to his friends and everyone else.

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

his eyes sparkled as he leaned down to press a small kiss on the charm. you could feel your boyfriend's warm breath hitting your lips. jungkook licks his lower lip, beginning to kiss your neck. he licks over an area, nuzzling into your shoulder. his left cheek was pressed against your shoulder blade, fingers running down your arm. you literally got goosebumps at his touch. he was so gentle and loving. as if he was treasuring you and your body. worshipping you.

"you're so beautiful, baby. how'd i get so lucky." your breath hitches at his praises, watching jungkook praise the shit out of you while kissing every inch of your body.

the moment he gropes both of your breasts at the same time by those large manly hands, i swear you almost came on the spot. your pussy desperately clench around nothing with your back arched, a small moan escaping your lips. your boyfriend laughs at your reaction, aware of how aroused you've become at this point.

"you want me to finally touch her now?" he signals at your pussy. your head jolts upwards, frantically nodding with a few yesses leaving your lips.

"pleasure." jungkook begins to circle your pretty clit meanwhile his other hand caressed the insides of your thigh, easing you down. your boyfriend slowly lays down on his stomach, face now completely aligned with your glistening pussy.

"hello there, sweetheart." you whine again—shit, you might as well just cum right now—jungkook's hand suddenly holds your hand, intervening them together. his chin lays on top of your crotch as he looked at you one more time, eyes showing nothing but pure affection towards to.

jungkook places a kiss on top of your clit, tongue gently swiping over the sensitive nub.

"pretty girl." his tongue entered your pussy to lick away all your arousal. you were moaning, pussy clenching at the sensation. it was good, god, his tongue, but it wasn't good enough to make you cum. you knew he was doing this on purpose. not sinking his tongue deeper into your cunt, jungkook just laps on your pussy and enjoys the taste of your wetness.

"so sweet." his fingers joined the party to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit. this was a sight to watch indeed. your boyfriend feasted on your pussy as if he was a starved man.

everything felt so good. he made sure to pull away once you feel like coming as well. meanie.

"keep it in, i need you to milk my cock, not my face." you do nothing but nod.

once he felt satisfied enough by your sloppy cunt, he pulls away to look at you. you notice how puffy his lips looked from all that making out with your pussy. that makes the two of you i guess!

jungkook grins, jacking off his hard cock. he was bricked up, of course. one look at you and it was over for him. you looked like you were straight out of a porno.

"i'm gonna stuff you full of my cock, baby. you would like that, wouldn't you?" he huffs, eyeing your dripping pussy and that pretty little face of yours.

"you make me so cock drunk, jungkook ;(" your manicured toes poke his thigh, foot almost about touch his cock until he playfully pushes it away with a laugh. "patience."

"look at how pretty these are." you hook a finger under the trap of your crotchless panties, pulling on it and letting the material slap back into place. "bought it just for you." there's a proud little grin on your face.

"yeah? who's card did you use?"

you hesitate for a moment, but answer. "mine."

jungkook pauses, eyebrow raising followed with a slap on your thigh.

"i've told you so many times to use my card but you never do. do i have to fuck the thought into you now?"

"uh-huh. jus' doesn't feel right to use your money for your own surprise." you pout.

"i don't care. i've clearly told you to use my card whenever you want."

"noooooo," you whine, "my friends are already calling you my sugar daddy!"

"then let them." he laughs, tracing your folds with his fingers. jungkook pushes two fingers in at once, beginning to scissor them in.

"ngh! i want your cock! not your fingers...!"

"gotta prep you, sweetheart." he fastens the pace of your fingers inside you, contemplating whether to add a third one in or not. eh, just do it. he stretches your cunt out with all three fingers while his other hand drew invisible doodles on your cute tummy.

once he feels like you're stretched out enough, he carefully pulls his fingers out, licking them clean afterwards. it was so nasty, yet so arousing.

without anymore waiting, jungkook's cock was already slipped in with no problems. he gives you a second to adjust to his cock as you shifted in your position, making yourself comfortable. once you gave him the okay signal, your boyfriend begins to give you those heavenly thrusts of his.

"haaa." you take a deep breath in, hands holding jungkook's shoulders for support. his pace wasn't fast, it was rather slow and sensual. he took his time with you. it was slow, he touched every inch and corner of your pussy this way. it was perfect. your mushy walls molded into whatever he wanted.

"nygh. ~" you let out small whines and moans, loving the way his cock slides in and out of you. it just felt so good.

"you're so amazing, please never stop." you speak out followed by a gasp, making jungkook chuckle. "never stoppin', sweetheart."

his face was buried in your neck, inhaling in your scent. your boyfriend licked your earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth a few times.

he begins to fasten his pace around you once he felt you clenching around him repeatedly. you moan out a long whine, the heel of your foot now digging into his asscheek while he pounded his cock into you. at this point, your moans had already sinked in together, turning out harmonically.

"you close?" your boyfriend leans down to whisper in your ear. you just nod, not really having the energy to speak words. you were fucked. you looked so fucked out from his dick, it was unreal. he loved this look on you, though. eyes half lidded, lips formed in an 'o' shape and breasts jumping up and down.

"shit, gonna drive me crazy." he lightly slaps your cheek. but you lean into his hand, wanting more of his touch.

soon you feel your orgasm coming in. ah, shit, clawing your nails into jungkook's shoulders, you just close your eyes and cum. jungkook's eyes were glued to your pussy as your juice milked his cock good. there was a white ring formed around his cock, making him smirk.

soon, jungkook cums as well, very well triggered by the pleasure from your orgasm. but he looks at you, asking whether he could cum inside or not. once you give him your approval, jungkook wastes no time to completely empty his balls into your cunt. he fucked you through his high, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy. it's fine, you were on birth control anyway.

he slowly pulled out of you, not letting you get hurt or anything. and then he just threw himself over your body. "oh!" you giggle a little. your boyfriend licked your cheek and bit it as if he was about to take a big bite out of his favourite food.

he leaned back to watch his cum drip down from your pussy. "heh." jungkook collects the liquid with his finger then guides it to your lips. you happily wrap your lips around them.

"can't let a drop go to waste."

you laugh, hitting his chest playfully. you spent another few minutes laying on top of eachother until you decided to break the silence.

"so, did you like my surprise?"

you knew damn well he LOVED it. you just wanted to hear the story.

"best surprise ever, sweet girl." he caresses your cheek with the back of his index finger.

"happy valentines day, my love ♡"

"happy valentines day, jungkook ♡"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt

[mccormickgf]

Hiiii, can u do a craig tucker with a baby fever/breeding kink x fem reader?? It would give me so much life cause i been reading the same fanfics of him over and over 😭, thank you so much if you do it

need to breed : craig tucker

warnings: nsfw (18+), fem and afab reader, breeding, p-in-v sex, pregnancy mentions, overstimulation, feral craig tbh

notes: i was just gonna write the smut part, but i love craig sm and wanted to write more 😭 also i haven’t written smut in months so i apologize if i’m rusty <3

“we should have a kid.”

you nearly choke on your own spit at your husband’s forwardness. craig’s always been very blunt in what he says about things or others. but when it comes to the things he wants, he’s a little less vocal. so hearing a suggestion, especially like the one he said, threw you for a loop.

“you- you want to get me pregnant?” you questioned, disbelief in your tone, “and have a baby?”

“that’s usually the order it goes in, yeah.”

you roll your eyes at his sass, but you don’t comment on it. instead, you question him. “whatever, whatever,” you said, “but what’s making you want this now?”

even before you and craig got married, you two talked about having kids one day. it was something both of you wanted in the future. but you weren’t expecting the conversation to happen in the near future.

craig pushes off the doorframe, walking his body to his side of the bed. you watch him curiously as his eyes trail down your body— only wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a thin tank top.

“clyde keeps sending me pictures of he and his wife’s new baby,” craig explained, “it— i guess it just makes me wonder what our baby would look like. and we have the funds to stay afloat, even with one.”

you smile lightly at him. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. maybe it’d have craig’s jet black hair and your eyes, or your hair and craig’s eyes and nose. when you thought about his strong arms holding onto a little chubby baby— your heart soared.

you press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “let’s try.”

a broken sob falls past your lips as craig thrusts inside of you for the umpteenth time. you don’t know how long you’ve been there, laying on your back on the mattress with your legs folded to your shoulders, but you know you’ve been there long enough for craig to fuck three loads into your sopping cunt. or was it four? you could barely remember your own name, let alone how many times you’ve both cum.

“craig— oh god! it’s too much, ‘s too much!” you cried out. craig’s thrusts were furiously fast, yet accurate enough to hit that one spot that made you see stars over and over again.

“you can take it— fuck!” craig groaned, “gotta make sure you get pregnant, right?”

a shaky moan falls past your lips as you bite the bottom one, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you like a vice.

normally, craig is a slow-fucker. not necessarily overly slow in pace, but in how he takes his time to pleasure you fully. but this? this is a whole new thing for you and him. it’s like a switch got flipped inside his brain, and everything else was shut off except for his need to breed you.

craig’s cock continued to move in and out of you at an animalistic pace. your pussy was beyond spent, leaking a mix of his cum (that he hasn’t already fucked back into you) and yours onto the bedsheets. if you weren’t so out of it, you’d be embarrassed at the mess beneath you and the sound of it being fucked back into you.

“gonna fill you up with my babies, make you a mama,” craig continued to ramble, a small sheen of sweat on his forehead, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? get you all, shit— nice and pregnant.”

your cunt involuntarily squeezed around his cock at his words, a pornographic moan escaping you. craig lightly chuckled, “oh, so you do like it. i just felt your pretty pussy squeeze me.”

your face burns, but there’s very little chance for embarrassment as you feel another orgasm building up, a heat in your tummy. frantic moans and whines escape you, the pleasure bordering on painful from how many times you’ve cum.

“god, fuck!” you cried, “craig, ‘m gonna cum!” tears of pleasure escape your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

with one hand, craig reaches down and runs firm yet rhythmic circles on your clit, making you gasp. with the other, he grabs onto your hand, pressing it to his lips.

“you gonna cum with me, honey?” he said, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppier as he gets closer to his orgasm, “i’m gonna— gonna fill you up again, k? to make sure you have my baby.”

pleas leave your lips as you grip craig’s hand, throwing your head back as the heat in your stomach finally releases with a final loud moan. craig quickly follows, groaning as his load fills your pussy.

craig stays inside of you as his forehead falls against yours, both of your chests moving up and down in sync. you feel beyond spent, your legs numb from holding them up for so long.

but before you can say anything, craig leans up slightly so he can look in your eyes. “got one more in ya, honey? i wanna make sure i get you pregnant on the first try.”

[evilminji]

You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

[anyseany]

Fantasize - Bangchan

Author's note: I didn't think I could write about it and I would like to, so I sent it in the form of requests to some writers that I consider enough to do such a feat. But here is my version, I hope others do your reading too, this idea deserves many versions.

Voyver! Boyfriend / Chan!idol x Yn! Fem reader 

📍 dumbfication, daddykink, spit, creampie, cum inside, Pet nicknames (baby, princess, love, etc), chan dom, yn sub, without protection, subspace, oral, skrit, High confident Chan. 

"I think your act is beautiful, I wouldn't get this beautiful girl with anyone else." Chan says touching his chin, while you sitting the bed follows him as if he were looking at a Greek god, the middle of his legs tight and wet in the short plaid skirt. And your boyfriend with a serious face in front of the armchair.

"She deserves it, she was a good girl." He says sighing, it wasn't your gift dream, but he would do anything for you, until he gave you on a tray to your favorite idol.

"Oh, did she go?" Chan's fingers hold your chin, and you swallow dryly when you see his arm tense on the black tank top. "Is she always good like that?" He leans over watching his blushed face well, and you seemed nothing less than glazed on his face, panting.

"At first she was rougher, because she had never been in a relationship, but then she managed to relax, and she is more than good." Your boyfriend explains looking carefully at all your movements, he felt invisible, you didn't even blink while looking at the man touching you.

"Ah.. so I'm your second little girl?" He asks caressing your jaw and you nod. "How modest." Chan laughs. "Shall we take off this blouse? Show dad everything, except the skirt, princess." He says serious, releasing his chin, watches you taking piece by piece, leaving only the blue skirt. "So beautiful, you are perfect doll."

Chan's voice makes you tremble a little, he exhaled an aura that completely dominated you, you felt helpless and weak, you just wanted to please him.

The shirt flies from Chan's body, pulling a sigh out of you. "Let's go for the basics, okay? I don't want to scare you." He says tender, changing the tone completely, sitting next to you facing your body, his hand snakes to the middle of your legs, touching your clitoris making you gaspe and hold the strong wrist as support. "Wet.. very wet." He says while hearing the embarrassing noises of his fingers, and his panting breath.

Chan lays down his body opening his legs more, giving a great view to his boyfriend, who was moving in the armchair uncomfortable. "Your breasts are so beautiful love.. they fit perfectly in my mouth."

Chan says before completely gribbing one of your breasts, making you arch your back, and whine loudly. His fingers increase in pace when he feels his stronger lubrication. And when he tries to insert a finger, he moans with his breast in his mouth, thinking about how tight you were.

"Damn, how do you get into it?" Chan says as he gets up, and his boyfriend shrugs, somewhat annoyed.

"I'm just careful, she can handle it." He says and chan sighs, sooting not to agine his cock being so tight that way at that moment.

One, two, three fingers were enough to make you roll your eyes, and make chan reach the point of almost insanity, the fast fingers, made a loud noise and his moans accompanied without shame anymore.

"Chan-chan, can I come, p-please!" Chan looks at you surprised by the question, were you so well trained?

"So good for asking, come to daddy love." The simple words make you tremble and close your legs with his hand in the middle, while you ride your high.

Your boyfriend stirs once again, feeling hard and jealous, you never came so strong at first with him.

"Princess? Do I need you to tell me, with protection or not?" Chan bends down to the height of his vitreous eyes, falling in love with his fucked face, caressing the side of his face.

"S-no, daddy, no." Chan cracks his jaw with the answer and nods, holding his face with one hand, and lifting the upper of his body easily, his hands cling to his firm wrist, and he sides the side of the end of the bed, so that his boyfriend has full vision.

"She likes crampie, in case you want to know." Your boyfriend murmurs against his taste, and chan turns to you as if he had seen something rare.

"Does the princess like to feel full?" He says and touches below your stomach, where your uterus would be, and presses lightly, giving you goosebumps. "Do you want my fucking here? Dripping from you?"

It was the end, you rolled your eyes just with that line, and nodded almost desperate. "Yes, Dad, I want to be full"

Chan smiles and moves away to lower his pants, the thick and not at all small cock appeared and made you sigh, would that fit?

"Let's go slowly, baby, I don't want to hurt your princess parts, hm?" He says lying partially on top of your body, watching you nod the speech, your arms surround his neck, and when the thick tip meets the tight entrance, he slowly enters, moaning immediately by the grip, you tilt your head without ever imagining what it would be like to be widened like that.

As much as her boyfriend was not small, he was not like chan, he lifted his body little by little, to have greater control of the slowness, and not to go crazy listening to his sighs and moans.

"Damn, look at this.." he says growling, seeing the cock almost completely inside. "Almost princess, a little more, can you do it? Do you feel good?" Damn, taking care of you at a time like this made you more horny, he moans feeling your grip.

"Yes, you can go, Dad, continue." Look where you connect, you watch the complete junction of your hips, and it was inevitable, the thick tip redding in the mouth of your uterus, the surreal widening and the feeling of being full was enough to make you cum again untouched, squeezing chan that held himself while squeezing your waist strongly to prevent you from moving too much.

"Did you just come with my cock inside?" He asks incredulously, seeing the white circle wrapped around his cock. "Fuck girl." He says feeling even more like fucking you, his state was almost deplorable if it wasn't beautiful. Your boyfriend was discredited watching the whole scene.

Leaning on you again and filling your face with kisses, kissing your neck, breasts and mouth, chan tries to wait for your high to go down a little, and has you returning the caresses after a while.

"You can go, dad." His low phrase makes chan's hips involuntarily move away and meet his again, making both moan.

The beginning of the lunges was romantic and calm, but after chan gets up again, he increases the strength and rhythm, both listen to the bed squeak and swing with the lunges, so overloaded and full, you moaned, while holding your breasts, preventing them from jumping too much.

"Where were you all this time? Dad always looked for a princess like that." Chan talks while still sinking into you, making your situation worse." So beautiful, such a good girl, taking daddy as if it were nothing." He releases your waist and holds your leg tightly, leaving the sample of your finger marks on your skin.

"F-background, p-dad! Ch-filled!" His words were more than random, chan was finally fucking you dumb, it was more than a dream.

"I need you to become a princess." He says stopping completely and leaving you, making you growl, and gives you a nice slap on the thigh, helping you turn around as if it weighed nothing. "You're not going to leave dad without seeing that beautiful ass, are you?" He says as he watches you position yourself on all fours in front of him, sighing with the position he enters again, making you moan loudly while grabbing the sheets. "Shin it.. what a bottom."

Chan begins to lose the pity of his small body, going harder, with brutality, his moans encouraged him and you felt in an irrational subspace.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" You repeated like a sacred mantra, the slap on your ass made you jump weakly forward, your left hand held your skirt like a lever and your right hand went to your neck, pulling your body a perfect bow to meet chan's face.

"You're so fucked princess, so beautiful crying, I think I fell in love with you." He confesses in your ear, making you hold your wrist on his neck, while listening to him carefully "your pussy was born for my cock, we can't separate them, can we?" His murmurs in agreement only increased Chan's ego. "I need you to tell me if you want inside, or not, before I decide." He says taking his hand from his neck to his hair, still supporting you, while stocking you until eternity.

"Inside, inside daddy, inside!" Another slap makes you moan and he pulls you by the neck again,

"Open your mouth, baby." He says and you obey blindly, and moan when you feel the spitting ball go down your throat. "So good, my love." He praises and takes his hand back to your intimacy, using his fingers to help you come. "How about coming to dad? Daddy will have to give all his little children, you will be such a beautiful mom, hm? Do you want princess?"

Her high-pitched moan exceeded the expectations of her boyfriend who was dumbfounded, and soon became incredulous when he saw you squirt, wetting the bed and the skirt you wore.

Still feeling your grip, chan shamelessly turns you without leaving you, and stocks up again in an animalistic way, moaning for whoever wanted to hear. "Such a good girl, such a good princess." And holding his waist firmly, he has his orgasms while throwing his head back, feeling ropes and more ropes coming out of him, as had never happened before, you stirred, feeling hot and full, loving the feeling, completely sensitive and silly, and chan when he opened his eyes, felt even more in love.

"Hm, I think already-" your boyfriend was cut off when chan withdrew from you, with his cock all honeyed and still a little hard, and made a point of turning his legs to him showing all the sperm coming out, gushing from his intimate as if it were yours. The thick fingers quickly punched inside again, making you squirm, sensitive.

"Opedy princess, full as I promised." Chan says and sees you still completely absorbed in her subconscious. "Princess? Talk to me." He says it's when you get up with his help, stare at him in a vitreous way, going down his face and finding the beautiful cock still honeyed. "Princess?" Chan tries to get his attention, but his quick movement in getting on his knees on the bed and bending down to take the member to his mouth, cleaned all the remnants of sperm, making Chan moan somewhat surprised.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend was going to intervene, but Chan raised his hand stopping him.

"This is called a subconscious state, she hasn't fully returned, it's almost an impulse, and it's dangerous to intervene." Chan says and her boyfriend keeps watching you suck another man's cock with pleasure. "Hey, hey, princess.. I'm fine, thank you." He gently touches your shoulders, making you get up and look as if it were something precious. "Are you okay? If so, wave to me" chan says caressing your face and you nod slowly, blinking slowly. "Great princess, I'm going to take a bath for you, I need you to lie down." Chan says slowly while helping you lie down. "Good girl." He praises and kisses your forehead, your nose, and seals your mouth, seeing you breathe slowly and smile minimally at him, warming your heart.

Her boyfriend had two problems now, one between his legs, and an inferiority syndrome that he doesn't know if he could repair.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Please.”

Stiles stands there chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek. I'm really sorry about this but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok... ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think that we're close enough now? For this not to be weird? I mean, at least I hope that's true. I'm just so fucking tired, man, I've got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up out of bed, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me here.

A pause.

“ You do know you can trust me—right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension, and also the strongest of them all: Hope.

“...let me?”

Here and now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder about it though because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly—very slowly, as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed and fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

Derek silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

All Derek can think is shit, he's freezing... while going into some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, he clumsily takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff and hangs on as firmly but as gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing, something that smells like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But I, uh, I don't have wolfy senses like you, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing—and Derek thinks of baited breath and The Merchant of Venice, and feels a little hysterical. 

He's having to resist the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this.

Mentally shaking himself, he thinks: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe we can team up against this one, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and—praying to nobody in particular that he doesn't fuck this up—whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear. 

Stiles shivers and exhales, breathing normally again now, but he doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to; he just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace, and hopefully Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also wonderfully of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking the fuckout because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour as he lies deathly calm and worrys about everything and nothing all at once.

Before he can bite into his lip to not make an idiot of himself, he's blurting out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs then hums quietly, his breathing having already evened out to the point of almost-sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's gone, drifting off to somewhere close to unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

[yakuza-emulation]

Smile for the picture, boys!

(Click on the photo for better quality)

All featuring my versions of the tormentors! All of whom are “existing” characters that I repurposed because I thought it would be fun, and why not give some light to more of my favoured Fazbear Frights characters. (I might get flack for some of these from those who do like the characters, but I love them too!)

For more on that, check under the cut! :D

Foxy Bully, also known as Michael Afton

The tried and true FNAF guy, ‘twas his brother killed and his father who did the killing. Overall, it’s a decent way to view the story, and doesn’t make my head explode (like goddamn robot children). Furthermore, the Security Logbook has a section where you’re tasked remember as a child “what prizes would you want to see behind the prize counter”, and Mike draws himself with a mullet, tank-top, shorts, and bracelets. So that’s good enough for me lol

Bonnie Bully, also known as Oscar Avila

The first of the tormentors who is kinda out there! There is the popular theory that he is Jeremy Fitzgerald, considering FNAF’s obsession with Jeremy’s and bunny paraphernalia; but Oscar also has a relation to bunnies (Plushtrap chaser)! It kinda works, and the skin tone itself was inspired by @namedoggo ‘s version of Oscar (which is super cool, please check it out!)

I also like to think he is Cassie’s father, because it kinda checks out, but I’m deciding to be oblivious to other current revelations within the community.

Freddy Bully, aka Alec Renner

Speaking of revelations, this character is full of them! Freddy bully is such a hot topic because there are so many people he can be (Jeremy Fitzgerald, Mr. Renner (Tales from the Pizzaplex), Oswald’s Dad), but I thought Alec would be a cool idea because of the whole Lonely Freddy Bodyswap occurrence and that he canonically favours Yarg Foxy. Furthermore, this was kinda tail-ended by the Ao3 fic, “I am Machine” by Hideaway_In_The_Imagination_World or @hideawaysplace on Tumblr. Wherein which Alec was friends with Oscar in the past.

I kinda also tied in Mr. Renner with Alec’s last name (because he doesn’t have one. It made me frustrated for a while), because in Tales from the Pizzaplex, the elementary principal is described as having a Freddy mask and his eyes leak oil? (I don’t actually have the tales books yet, I’m waiting until the box set releases until I get it. So all my info on this guy is limited to the several fandom wikis)

I don’t really want to tie in Oswald’s father, but Alec does have a sister, so Hazel could have the mask? Or Oswald’s dad could’ve just won it as a prize, not everyone who has a mask has to be the bully themself. (Which is ironic for Mr. Renner, but eh.))

Chica Bully, aka Sam O’Neil

Probably the most out there, but this character is practically never talked about with fan theories (for gods sake, literally everyone else in the squad has been theorized to be Jeremy Fitzgerald at some point (including fucking Michael at one point because of his multiple aliases), EXCEPT FOR HIM..?). Furthermore, it was kinda difficult to pick a good character for him, as I wanted to make it so the tormentors have some relation to the character they had the mask of. I really enjoyed Blackbird when I read it, and when I read it the first time, I thought Sam admitted to actually being a bully years before the story itself (he just got back at bullies, but the point still stands). Regardless, why not :)

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 5

Previous Chapter, Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. And if you end up murdering your English Professor for forcing you to be paired up with him, WHO COULD BLAME YOU???

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Mention of SA/SH, BDSM (sex dream), M/M/F sex dream, Felix is a pig, Reader claws Oliver's face, Michael loves Reader so much y'all, Farleigh is on Team Michael, Oliver is delusional and awful, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic.

Author's Note: Finals are a BITCH, but I'm finally done...except I have to do my summer classes soon. But I really wanted to put this chapter out since it's been a while. Thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

Michael’s head was about to explode in the next thirty seconds if fucking Farleigh Start didn’t stop digging his paws through his closet and drawers. No amount of clinking and clacking from tapping on his keyboard would be enough to dull out his shirts shuffled in his chest and hangers shrill screeching against the metal bar in his wardrobe.

“Dear God,” the Yankee, stick-figured giant groaned. “How many math pun shirts do you have? Don’t you have any normal ones? Oh my god, are all the pants you own khakis or Oxfam jeans? Do you seriously not own a single pair of corduroy slacks?”

He slammed his laptop shut. God-fucking-dammit, he was going to kill this asshole if he didn’t shut the fuck up.

“Maybe,” Michael gritted out, “if you just focused on the presentation we’re supposed to be working on, it’ll not bother you.”

Farleigh Start clicked his tongue. “Now, now – it’s not nice to be so testy. Most would consider themselves very lucky that I’m providing my services for free.”

The blonde-blind nerd balked when the word ‘services’ entered his ears. Immediately his mind thought of all the rumors that latched to Felix Catton’s mysterious American cousin – who apparently sucked off every teacher in England. Not that he was homophobic or anything – kiss, fuck, marry whoever you wanted, but he wasn’t interested in that sort of thing.

“Services – are you trying to suck my cock so I’ll do your work for you?!”

“…First off, ew,” Farleigh began. “Second, if I left you to do my side of the work, I’m about…86% confident that you’ll end up tanking my grade.” He strolled to Michael’s closet, pulled out a blue gingham-checkered shirt, and grimaced. “Thirdly, I am referring to how I am going to turn–” he nodded towards Michael in disgust “–this, into an actual suitor for our dear (Y/N). Or are you two still doing this little dance of being nauseatingly following each other around like sad puppies and giving each other bedroom eyes without actually fucking?”

Don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait, don’t take the–

Michael slammed his laptop shut and tiredly rubbed his eyes. With a loud and audible groan that he dragged out, he rubbed his eyelids until he could see the kaleidoscope of stars and squiggles in the dark.

Fucking damn it.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you?” he damn-near shouted. “It’s not like that between us!”

Farleigh quirked a brow. “The bedroom eyes or the not-actually-fucking? Because if it’s the former…yes, it is, but if it’s the second,” he brought his hands together in a slow clap, “then well done, Gavey!”

Michael shot up from where he was sitting and ripped the shirt in Start’s hands before throwing it back in his silky oak wardrobe and slamming it shut. Was it so necessary for him to be so fucking insufferable? Was he born this intolerable, or did his fucking cousin, Felix fucking Catton, infect him because being a coked-up narcissist was contagious via proximity or blood?

He heard a few clicks behind him, and the scent of Marlboro Gold cigarettes filled his room.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Michael turned around and stared at his completely useless study partner for this stupid project for his Classics course that he needs to fulfill his fucking “General Education” requirements. Farleigh Start was leaning against his dresser and staring at him with the most judgingly empty gaze ever worn – all while holding a cigarette between his two fingers and getting ash on the floor.

Great – like it wasn’t a bloody fire hazard to cover his carpeted dorm in hot ash.

He shrugged. “What’re you on about?”

Farleigh took a long drag on his lung cancer joystick before exhaling deeply. His disappointed look made Michael’s eyes twitch in irritation.

“About a certain mutual friend we share and adore,” he drawled. “Whom just so happens to be in my dear cousin’s room right now…at night…on a weekend…alone.” He paused to take in Michael’s reaction and smiled. “Ohhhhh, so you do care.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing’s gonna happen between ‘em. (Y/N)’s too smart for that.”

“Yes, you see – I know that…and you know that. But my cousin?” Farleigh scrunched up his face and made a wish-washy motion with his hand. “Ehhhhh…he’s more the type to think a giant, glaring red-neon sign with blinking lights saying ‘STOP’ is another giant, glaring purple-neon sign with blinking lights saying ‘Come Hither’ in porno studio 69 font.”

Michael Gavey rolled his eyes and reopened his laptop. “Whatever, I’m not worried.”

“You’re telling me that it doesn’t bother you that our friend is currently in the lion’s den with Oxford’s king?”

“Of course it bothers me,” thought Michael, “but I trust her more than I trust you.”

But Michael wasn’t going to let his forced-upon acquaintance know his thoughts, so all he said was…

“She’s not in the fuckin’ lion’s den, alright? They’re in the Bodleian. I’m going to pick her up from there in like thirty minutes.”

Farleigh cocked his head to the side. “Don’t trust our girl to make smart choices?”

“I trust (Y/N) just fine,” Michael bitterly retorted. “It’s your fucking cousin I don’t trust.”

Because he does – he trusts you so much. He knows how sweet and kind you were to everybody you thought deserved the benefit of the doubt. ‘Deserved’ being the very fine keyword in the detailing because there was no fucking way in hell you were dumb enough to think Sir Felix Catton of fucking ‘SalTbURn MaNor’ deserved your kindness.

Mary, Jesus, and Joseph – he wanted to strangle the old kook when he announced the assigned pairs.

It was Classics English taught by Professor Radcliff Michael Charles Douglas. He droned on about what materials would be on the end-of-term examinations. Everyone in the classroom, save for you and a few others, was either passing notes by throwing them across the room or staring aimlessly at the air with red-rimmed eyes.

“Ya’ ready, partn’r?”

You pursed your lips as a groan fought to escape. You would regret introducing John Sturge’s 1960 American Western masterpiece, “The Magnificent Seven,” to Michael Gavey if he kept up with that god-awful Texas accent.

You turned to your left and shot a blank glare at Michael. “Listen, Billy the Kid, we don’t know if we’re going to be assigned together,” you said.

“Come on, Professor Douglas always pairs the people sitting together as partners so far in the entire term. If it’s not broke, why fix it?”

“Melanie Brown…paired with Bryce Landon…Kemi Brown…paired with Amelia Sanders…”

You leaned on your elbow to whisper in Michael’s ear to drown out your professor’s blasé voice.

“Can we do our project on Hercules?”

He leaned back. “Why him?”

“I want to present on the glorification of toxic masculinity in mythology, and he’s the prime example.”

Michael chuckled. “You just want to piss off old Douglas up there.”

“Katie Caldwell…paired with Oliver Quick…”

“Is that so wrong?” you asked with a smirk. “You can either be one jump scare away from seeing Jesus or a product of institutionalized glorification of misogyny – but you cannot be both.”

Michael stifled a laugh. “You realize that takes away pretty much half of the English, Math, Science, and every fucking department on campus, right?”

You innocently tilt your head to the side. “Does it?”

“You’re terrible,” Michael snickered. “Completely evil.”

“Oh, please,” you swatted his arm. “You love me anyway.”

“Michael Gavey…paired with Farleigh Start…”

You and Michael turned to the front with disbelief. Wait…if Michael was paired with Farleigh…then that meant…oh, no.

“(Y/N) (L/N)…paired with Felix Catton. That will be all – no changes.”

Michael watched with wide eyes as your head slowly turned to the back of the lecture hall. He watched your face pale in disgust and horror when your eyes stopped at Felix Catton. Michael’s blue eyes narrowed at the lecherous grin Felix shot to you before he puckered his lips to blow a little kiss with a wink.

Your body involuntarily shuddered at the predatory implications. Michael watched as his best friend buried her face in her hands. He heard her say the exact same thought he was having.

These are going to be the worst few weeks of my life.

To say it bothered Michael that Felix Catton was making the moves on you, so to lure you to his sex dungeon of a dorm was an understatement. It was killing him to know that you were essentially forced into a vulnerable position, but when he brought it up to your professor, the old cunt-rag didn’t give two flying fucks.

“Professor Douglas, please,” Michael pleaded. “I really think it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you could make this exception this one time. I promise it has less to do with me and more for (Y/N)’s sake–”

But the ancient windbag wasn’t interested. “Whatever accusations you and Miss (L/N) intend to throw at Mister Catton, I am uninterested. Honestly, Mister Gavey, I expected this kind of nonsensical drivel from your friend, but to see you being caught in her schemes disappoints me greatly.”

Michael bit his tongue to choke down the tongue lashing he wanted to give. He wanted to tell this wrinkled ballsack about how the ‘fine Mister Catton’ basically assaulted you. He wanted to scream how worried he was when he didn’t see you for the rest of the day. He wanted to shout how when he knocked on your dorm and entered, he froze and paled at the sight of you crying your eyes out until they were red and puffy. He wanted to roar out the fury he felt when you revealed to him the incident with Felix Catton that morning in the empty lecture hall. The very same one where Professor Douglas taught.

*TRIGGER WARNING: THE FOLLOWING SCENE FEATURES PAST SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND A DISCUSSION OF THE TOPIC, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THAT, PLEASE SKIP OVER*

“I couldn’t do anything,” you whimpered. “I felt like…like such an idiot! I just froze and stared and did nothing!' You started to cry all over again, and Michael wiped your tears with his thumb before holding you close to his chest. “Hey, hey, hey – it’s okay. Freezing and doing nothing are two different things. You were stunned by what happened, and your body reacted the same way – anyone who tells you differently is a liar.” You shook your head. “I couldn’t even speak…it was like my body – it ju-just shut off on its own. My brain kept screaming, ‘Let go,’ ‘Get off,’ or ‘Stay away from me!’ But I…the words and my voice just failed me when I needed them the most.” Michael blurted out the first thought: “(Y/N), you need to report this.” Your eyes shot open in fear. “Michael, no–” “Look, I know you’re scared, but this is assault. He touched your inner thigh, and you clearly didn’t consent – that’s sexual assault, or at the very least sexual harassment! If you report it, at least the campus police know about this and keep an eye out for you.” But you weren’t listening. “Nononononono—Mikey... that’s not how it’ll go down. Even if I report it, they won’t believe me.” “You don’t know that!” “But I do!” you cried. You shot up and started pacing across the room. “I do know because I’ve seen it happen! Almost every girl I knew growing up—it happened to them! At school, on the trains, some at their own homes! Whether they knew every detail of their assaulter or just saw just a patch of skin – it didn’t matter!” You weeped. “And if I tell the cops, they’ll just throw away the report because they’ll think that ‘all he did’ was touch my thigh. Consensual or not, I’ll be labeled as some fucking crazy man-hater who’s grasping at straws to ruin a fine young man’s life and reputation.” You collapsed back on your bed. “I just…I can’t deal that kind of shit right now. Not with…” you took a deep breath, “Not with everything that’s happening right now.” “…What can I do to help?” Michael hated how his voice cracked. He hated how completely useless he felt at that moment. More than anything, he wanted to march to the campus police and report it. But he knew that by doing so…he took even more control away from you by going behind your back. And then he would be a no better monster than Felix Catton. The idea of him going beyond the point of no return made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white. But when you touched his hand, all the tension flowed out of him like a creek. “You already did the best thing anyone could do for me right now,” you reassured him. “You listened to me. You cared enough to look for me when you felt something was off. You reached out to me and stayed and listened. And most of all…you believed me.” Michael felt his throat go dry. You looked at him with so much trust, as if he were the safest place in your world. He wanted you to look at him that way forever. “I’ll believe you,” he swore. “I’ll be there for you – no matter what. I promise. Whenever you need me, I will be there.” No words can describe the relief you felt from hearing Michael’s promise. When you entered Oxford's campus, you never expected to meet someone as endlessly loyal and trustworthy as him. You were prepared to keep your head low and remain friendless for the next four years. You were ready to spend the next 1460 days crying your heart out from homesickness and imposter syndrome. But somehow, near the beginning of your first term here, you met Michael. And you were so grateful for him. You leaned in and lightly kissed his cheek. “I know. I know you will.” And you believed that with all your heart.

*TRIGGER SCENE END*

Michael promised you – gave his word – that he wouldn’t say anything to anyone. But, fuck, this asshole was making it hard to keep that promise.

“Mister Catton is a fine young man…”

No, he’s not.

“…one whom I have full faith will end up as remarkable as his father and grandfather before him.”

They probably pulled that same shit, too.

“A man with a future as bright as his does not need some upstart with delusions of grandeur to dismantle an institution as fine as Oxford blatantly spewing out trash about him.”

It’s not trash.

“Unless it was something with proof and worth my time?”

Michael looked at his Classics professor with empty but enraged eyes. “…No, professor. It’s just a personal matter between me and Felix – (Y/N) has nothing to do with it. She’s just…protective, I guess.”

This surprised the sagging skin suit. “Hmm, well, that sense of loyalty from such a strange girl is surprising, to say the least – especially when you take account of her…troubling background as an American from that horrible city. But perhaps there is a chance of decency in her, after all.”

Michael’s right eye twitched slightly. “And what do you mean by her…background?”

“Oh, come now, Mister Gavey. She’s a New Yorker. That city is full of…of…gang-bangers and drug addicts.”

“Her dad’s a professor at NYU, and her mum works for the buildings that host Broadway shows.”

Douglas scoffed. “HA! New York University – what a joke. A campus that’s filled with hippies and no class. And Broadway? Of course, Miss (L/N) is connected to the theatre community. Now, if that’s all, Mister Gavey, I have an important meeting to get to with the chairman of my department. I trust that this matter is settled?”

No, not even close.

But all Michael could do was clench his fist over his backpack’s strap. He forced an unconvincing smile and tersely nodded.

“Yep, won’t get any more problems.”

When old man Douglas replied with his patronizing smile, Michael wanted nothing more than to knock out the rest of the tenured professor’s teeth with a fire hydrant.

So…no, Michael Gavey was not at all okay with the fact that you were with Felix Catton. He was not OK with the idea that you were within ten feet of that depraved vampire.

All he could do was be reassured you were in a very safe and very public space with lots and lots of people who could serve as potential testimonial eyewitnesses if Catton tried anything.

…Provided that Catton Sr. wouldn’t be able to pay off everyone, their third cousin, and their dog.

You wanted to die. You wanted to literally sink into the ground. You wanted there to be a sinkhole to open under you, swallow you whole, close up, and you would never see the light of day again.

…Actually, you wanted all those things to happen to your useless fuck of a project partner.

“Y’know, if you’re bored here, there’s a party going on at one of my mates’ flats not far from here.”

Felix moved to the seat right next to you and limply swung his arm over your chair. “So why don’t we–”

You shot up and moved one seat over. “Considering how we’ve been working on the research for almost two hours, and you haven’t gotten any work done,” you bit out. “Getting wasted and losing more brain cells isn’t the right call.”

Taking your open hostility as a challenge, Felix continued to move closer to you. “Exactly! We’ve been at this for two hours, and nothing got done!” His face was inches from yours, and you could smell the rank stench of craft beers and rancid cigarettes on his breath. “So, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

Oh my – this is getting fucking ridiculous.

You started to pack your bags and gather all the borrowed books. “Parties aren’t my idea of ‘fun.’ And I already told my friend to meet me–”

“So bring him too! The more the merrier!”

You took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. “Our presentation is due in a week, Felix. One week to hand the paper in and present our topic to the class.” 

You swung your backpack over your shoulder. “I take my coursework very seriously, and to say it’s frustrating to have a partner who doesn’t take it as seriously as me would be a supreme understatement.”

“I think from now on–” a swift *RIP* echoed between them as you took a page out of your college-bound notebook. You quickly jotted down instructions for topics so simplified a child could figure it out, “– it’d be best if we work separately.”

Felix shot up from his seat with a panicked look. “Wait, now hold on – let’s not get hasty.”

“I already have a basic outline for the paper - I’ll type up the paper,” you continued while not looking at him. “All you have to do is find the books I’ve so nicely labeled on that sheet of paper I’ve given you.”

“Wha-what happens after I find them?” Felix stammered; his heart broke from how his time with you was so cruelly cut short.

But your tone and body language remained as rigid as it was apathetic. “You have my email, you have a laptop – figure it out, genius. We’ll meet up at a specified time and place; you hand me the books, and we move on with our very separate lives.”

You walked out of the crowded library and toward the nearby bench where you and Michael agreed to meet when he picked you up. You barely had time to sit down before you were bombarded with the presence of a much worse pest stuck to your shoe.

“You get off on bein’ a downright bitch?”

God, was every asshole trying to piss you off tonight?

You turned around with a prominent scowl that further deepened as your eyes took in the insufferable bastard who was clearly trying to pick a fight with you. You don’t know why you bothered to look for confirmation. You immediately knew who it was just by the sheer arrogance oozing from his tone.

As an artist, you had a special relationship with the color blue. In the summer, there was a point in the early mornings when it felt like the world was bathed in it. There was even a period when you were downright obsessed with it. You loved anything and everything blue: the sky, the ocean, hydrangeas, the Obrina Olivewing butterfly – but eyes, you loved painting blue eyes.

You thought of them as these warm, magical rarities that belonged to the stuff of fairies and Disney princesses. Of course, you also knew the popularity of the usage of blue with winter and death, but you never felt that duality…until now.

Because as much of a slimy bastard Oliver Quick was, you had to hand it to the guy…he was one of two people with some of the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

Which gave you all the more reason to hate him. He made blue eyes look so cold.

 You clenched your backpack strap. “I’m not in the mood, Quick.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’d disagree – you’re always in a mood.”

“So stop talking to me,” you snarled, turning around. “And go away, Michael’s meeting me here soon.” You started to walk away when you heard Oliver speak again.

“I’m surprised he hadn’t dropped you left,” he maliciously quipped. “With you and Felix and all that.”

Your nails dug deeper into your backpack strap. “There is nothing between me and Felix – nothing at all.”

“Yeah, for now,” Oliver shook his head. “But you’ll be crawling to him with your hands and knees on the ground, worshippin’ him like he’s Hercules or Apollo.”

He leaned in closer from behind you. “And you’ll compare Gavey to Felix and look back and wonder ‘how the hell could I have missed being with Felix Catton over some pathetic’–”

Stop it. *clench*

“–unimportant–”

Shut. Up. *dig*

“– know-it-all –”

I hate you. I hate you. *pierce*

“– nobody.”

You turned around and dug your nails into his face as you poured every bit of rage and disdain for the single most insignificant person you’ve ever met in each word that came out of your mouth.

“Enough,” you roughly whispered. It was taking everything inside you to stop lashing out even further. “I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

“What? Plan to –” Oliver winced as you cinched onto his skin.

“Of all the mind-bogglingly,” *clench* “douche-like” *dig* “and despicable” *pierce* “crap you’ve spewed out,” you rasped. “Implying that I would ever choose as dull as Felix Catton over someone as rare and wonderful as Mikey has got to be one of the worst.”

“Do not push me any further, Quick,” You felt him tremble as you slowly released him from your grasp. “I’ve tolerated too much from you and the object of your obsession for far too long as is.”

You stepped back and gave the boy before you a good, hard stare. You never felt rage so deep, so demanding.

It was exhausting.

But you heard your name being called out from your left as you turned your head to see Michael waving to you with his arm high in the air. Had it been anyone else calling out your name, you wouldn’t have felt so quickly eased. You were about to move ahead to meet him halfway in the distance before Oliver’s voice stopped you.

“…What could possibly make him so special?” Oliver pathetically whimpered. “Why would you ever choose him when someone as bright as Felix is begging for you? Do you know what being with him means for you? What it gives you?”

…Was that it? Was that his best shot to get under your skin?

Looking at Michael, you answered him without meaning to.

“There’s no point in explaining it to you,” you calmly stated. “And I think you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

You picked up your stuff and left him alone with his thoughts. As you walked away to join your friend, you could feel his icy sapphire eyes digging into your back. Michael could feel how tense you were and asked if there was anything he could help with – but you waved away his concerns, stating that you had already wasted too much of your time with Felix and Oliver and didn’t want to waste anymore. Slipping your arm over his, you snuggled closer to his side and let the familiar scent of old math textbooks and coffee comfort you.

Oliver would make you pay for what you did – you’d be naïve to assume otherwise. He won’t do it directly, but it will happen. He’s the type to drink poison and expect you to die…only to learn too late that it worked as you lay on the ground bleeding and screaming your throat raw for help.

But right now, you were with your best friend; you two were going back to his dorm for a best friend sleepover, and it’d be enough.

…Yeah, it’ll be enough.

Oliver needed to make a plan – and fast.

Getting into your good graces was no longer a viable option for him; you made it annoyingly clear of that by the way you attempted to maul his face off. He gingerly touched the claw marks you imprinted on his cheeks as you tried to dig for his blood and bone with your nails. A corner of his mouth went up as he remembered your viciousness. He could practically taste the blood that nearly trickled down his cheek after you pierced his skin.

He hadn’t expected such a blatant display of violence from you, of all people, let alone on the campus’ hallowed grounds so near an establishment as ancient and crowded as the Bodleian.

For you, sweet, innocent (Y/N), to show such open hostility…to know he urged that beautiful, dormant impulsiveness to emerge…it thrilled him like nothing else. At that moment, he so clearly saw it. A darkness that was hidden deep inside you – bursting open from your carefully stitched seams. A deep desire for more in the dull, dull life God cruelly set upon you. Why else would a sweet, little all-American girl such as yourself travel all across the Atlantic to one of the most prestigious universities?

No, you were like him – exactly like him. Your reaction to his goading only proved that to him.

You weren’t used to it – that much was obvious…but that meant little to him. If nothing else, Oliver was resourceful. He’d learn more and more about what makes you tick before plucking you piece by piece into what he needed you to be for him. He’ll watch you explode before making you fizzle.

The idea of you at your fiercest – only for him to break it down bit by bit until all that was left was a more…subdued version of the hardheaded American girl from the Big Apple who loved to aggravate him during her first-year days at Oxford.

The thought alone made him salivate.

He could only dream how you’d be in bed. Your tight, hot little body would be squirming and writhing from the pleasure he and Felix bestow upon you. You, helplessly lying on your back while being fucked dumb by the two of them.

God, he felt himself getting hard at just the image alone – to make it a reality…that sort of victory, along with having Felix, would be nothing short of heaven for him. He unbuttoned his jeans as he took out his hardening cock into his hand. Not wanting to bother himself by starting slow, he immediately stroked himself with a rough and unforgiving pace. He wanted the pleasure from the fantasy to overwhelm him.

You looked perfect—replete, ethereal, and effervescent. Your entire body twitched as your eyes were blown wide, and drool dribbled down your chin. You put up quite the fight; the scratch marks on his and Felix’s chests proved that. But seeing you on your back on red silk sheets with your wrists and ankles tied to the bed posts made the struggle worth it. The red and pink bite marks that begin from the column of your slender neck down to your plush and tender inner thighs made for a prettier picture you could ever paint. “Oliver,” you pitifully rasped. “P-please, m’sorry – AH!” Your body jolted, and your back arched as he slapped your swollen clit. He struck his hand down one, two, three more times and watched as you thrashed and cried before another peak was forcefully ripped within you and came gushing out. God, how many times was it at that point? Three, four? It must have been quite a high number, judging by how tightly your cunt clenched onto his fingers when he thrust them inside you. “Look at her,” Felix cooed from behind Oliver. The Saltburn heir’s hulking frame towered over his lover as they watched their pet beg for mercy. “You almost feel sorry for her.” His hot breath panted into his ear as Oliver shivered in delight. The Quick boy gasped when he felt Felix’s large digits begin to enter his tight, puckering hole. “Take your fingers out,” he ordered. “And stick your cock inside her. You’ve been so good to me that I’ll let you fuck her sloppy cunt while I finger-fuck your arse.” Oh god, yes. Oliver took out his fingers and immediately positioned his hard cock at your leaking pussy as he spread your legs apart and forced your knees to press against your chest. “Wait,” you slowly blinked. “Wha…what’re you do–” Your back arched as Oliver pushed into you before thrusting into your cunt at a brutal pace. Tears were streaming down your reddened, flushed face as ecstasy-laden sobs filled the room. “Good boy, Olly,” Felix praised as he continued to push his fingers inside Oliver while the nails of his other hand dug into his hips. He let out a ragged gasp from how Felix deliciously stretched him out. He started out slow before moving his fingers at a faster and steadier pace. “That’s it, Olly. You’re so good – so good to me.” God, the contrast between the firm grips and harsh thrusts with gentle whispers of sweet nothings was like nothing he had ever experienced. And it only made the pleasure of Oliver plowing into your weeping pussy while you cried like a bitch in heat feel too good to be true. “Oh, you’re getting so tight,” Felix groaned. “You wanna come, don’t you? You wanna spill your cum into our pet’s little cumdump hole, right?” “Yes,” Oliver rashly answered before snarling to you. “You hear that, you dumb slut? I’m going to cum in you, and you’re going to take it.” “N…not i-inside,” you begged despite your walls clenching tighter around his cock. “P-please not inside!” Oliver just laughed. “You want it – oh, yes, you do.” He released one of your legs to grip your jaw and forced you to stare at him. “Don’t bother denying it. Your body knows how a whore like you is just desperate for me.” He chuckled as he thrusts into you even harder than before. “Well?” “Yes!” you cried out. “Yes, Oliver! Let me be your cumdump! I want your cum so badly!” Before Oliver and Felix permitted you to do so, you spilled onto Oliver’s cock, and the tightening of your walls, mixed with how deep Felix pushed his fingers inside him, made Oliver’s mind go blank – and soon, all he could hear was white noise.

Oliver slumped into his chair as a coat of sweat covered his entire body. Thick, white ropes of cum were still spurting out of his softening cock despite it coating his right hand. He ran his left hand through his dark curls as reality settled back in. Cold, bitter loneliness engulfed his body as he realized that you and Felix were not with him, and he remained as alone as before. A newfound determination to make his fantasy a reality soon took place.

His vision will be a reality. Felix will love him. And you will be their pet whose sole purpose in life is to take load after load of their pleasure.

But such things were too early to think about with how you were now. No…no, no, no…you were far too raw in your current state…too volatile…too stubborn…too American. He supposes it shouldn’t be too surprising that you latch onto fitfulness and inconsistency.

You were an artist, after all, and such was the fate of your kind to be destined to forever claw their way from the bottom as a means of survival.

But, however charming your unpredictability may have been in your concrete-paved, urban paradise that you call ‘home’ – that simply won’t do for him. He was more than confident that he could make you see things his way, but there were…problems needed to be resolved.

Namely, one in particular that came in ill-fitting apparel and bulky-framed eyewear – Michael Gavey.

Only an utterly blind idiot would miss how you pathetically secure your entire emotional well-being onto him. Oliver watched in total desolation and disappointment at how your glorious rage dissipated at the sight of him. But a part of him was equally as impressed at the mask you so expertly paraded, going so far as forcing your body language to adapt to the circumstances.

But…it wasn’t a mask, was it?

You looked at Michael Gavey the way he looked at Felix – complete and total worship. Michael Gavey, for whatever reason, was your sun, moon, and stars. The way you protected and so ardently adored him made the conclusion all the easier to reach.

Suddenly, it all became clear.

Of course…how did he not see it? The answer was so obvious. What better way to force you to his and Felix’s side…than to separate and condition you?

Isolation was a cruel and sadistic thing to thrust upon anyone – let alone who had so few friends in a foreign country like yourself. But he knew how much of an effective tool it could serve for him. Oh, it would be arduous initially – yes, it will. But it would all be worth it in the end. After all, in a way, this was your fault. If only you had complied with him when he was being nice, he wouldn’t have had to resort to such drastic but necessary measures.

Oliver darkly chuckled to himself.

Yes…everything would turn out in his favor. He’d make sure of it.

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz, @ma1dita, @jeondeluxe111, @itszzmoon, @wolfeginny, @mioshasworld, @bre99

Let me know in the comments your thoughts and if you want to be tagged when I update!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pray to my ancestors and beg for their forgiveness for writing Oliver's POV 🥲

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

on the phone with 👑

(cw: mentions of ego-shooter video games; age gap 25/41, nsfw, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, MDNI)

part before: painting his nails

I'm tossing and turning.

In my own bed.

Cursing the notion I had, that I couldn't possibly stay for longer at his place.

On Monday morning, I packed up my stuff and hurried to work, after he made me another latte.

Being a good girl, not getting him to fuck me again, even though I would have rather taken him to bed than myself to work.

Texting König about every single minute thing that came to my mind. And him doing the same.

I sent him a pic while I was out getting lunch with a colleague. And he sent me a pic while he was working out. I almost died right there and then.

Firstly, I never would have thought he would do a mirror selfie.

Secondly...

His hair put up in a haphazard way. Damp strands of it hanging down.

The tank top was a tight fit especially for him, showing off his arms. Sweat staining the front of it, the sheen of wetness on his skin...

The shorts. The sight of his burly thighs had me gripping my desk, trying to get a grip.

Thirdly, that goddamned smile. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

When I had calmed down, my fingers typed out a message in response.

Me: excuse me??? sir??? 🫠 👑: you are excused

He's gonna pay for that one.

When I came home from work, I thought it was eerily quiet in my apartment. Nobody else being here. I mean, I live alone and Mimi greeted me as always. But it seemed like was something off. Missing.

I thought back to when we got my stuff and König just waited patiently for me while I packed some clothes and other necessities. Petting Mimi, his whole attention on the little cat. His tall stature dwarfed my living room, and I was actually surprised he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. The Morbid Angel logo on his shirt was hidden by the black furball purring against him. Mimi sitting on his chest, not a care in the world, meowing when she saw me.

But there was no 6'10'' giant waiting for me in the living room then.

I willed myself - even though my fingers itched - to not send him message about asking for him to pick me up or stay over at my place. I wanted to give him some space after I had his place under siege for what feel like an eternity, but realistically was just three days. And I managed fine yesterday, his goodbye kisses still lingering. Today, even with all of the messages we sent back and forth...

Can you miss somebody like that after knowing them for such a short time?

I knew that he most likely spent the whole evening at home. Alone. Because he likes being alone. Probably reading or listening to the new Trivium vinyl he bought that came in the mail yesterday. Or both.

I stayed home as well, playing games on my computer – I actually started up Counterstrike and tried to play some matches –, but my mind always wandered back to him. Mimi came running, pushing her head against my legs, demanding attention. I lifted her off the floor to set her onto my lap and didn't see the enemy which got me eliminated. The irony was not lost on me, as I thought back to our conversation. How worried he seemed with how I would perceive him when he talked about his work. And now I was sitting here, playing a shooter game to try and relax after work.

I shook my head, at the absurdity of it, and snapped a quick pic in between matches to send to him.

My phone ding-ed while I was in a match, and I tried to ignore it.

As soon as I got the chance though, I opened the message and he sent a picture back. From the waist down, a book on his lap, a beer on the table beside him. The wall of books in the background. The whole room dimly lit except for the opened pages.

God damn it, I just want to sit right next to him on that couch.

me: looking comfy, old man 👑: thank you, i am indeed very comfy 👑: brat

I chuckled to myself and played a few more rounds before I went to bed.

And now I'm here, tossing and turning in my bed, without the big guy right beside me.

I pull the chat up again. Looking at the pictures he sent me today.

me: u still awake? 👑: yes, everything okay? me: can't sleep 👑: me neither

While I'm still contemplating my next message, the crown lights up my phone as a caller ID. Surprise spreads through me for just a moment before I pick up.

Hi?

Hi. Uh, I hope it's okay that I just called.

Sure, I can't sleep anyways.

I ignore the little flutter in my stomach.

What is it? Something on your mind?

‘Yeah, you.’ is what I want to say.

No, just restless.

He sighs.

I feel that.

A little silence falls over us, just for a moment.

What was that game you played before?

Oh, uh- Counterstrike. I'm no good at it though.

He laughs.

Why do you play it then?

It's still fun, I guess. Even if I curse at the monitor like a goddamn sailor.

Oh, I couldn't imagine your sweet mouth doing something as filthy as that.

Yeah, yeah. We both know what kind of filthy things you're imagining with my mouth.

Maybe.

I can hear the grin on his face which makes me grin in return.

Have you ever played?

I never played, no. Don't want to spend my free time with...

He pauses.

Work.

Oh right, I understand, sorry. This must be weird then.

No, don't worry. I know that people play those games for fun.

Yeah, I know, still.

You gotta show me some time.

Really?

Yeah, why not.

Okay, then, I'll show you my shitty gameplay with pleasure.

Which makes us both laugh.

I gotta confess something.

What do you have to confess?

I already had my car keys in my hand.

You did?

Mhm. But then I remembered what you said yesterday morning, about needing to go home and you couldn't possibly stay any longer… and I understand if you need some space. So, I wasn't sure if you'd even open the door for me, if I knocked.

A moment of silence.

Can I confess something as well?

Sure.

I have been thinking all evening how fucking stupid that was of me. And I would've opened the door for you in an instant.

Another silence, this one a little heavier.

But a little smile stalks on my face, an idea of what to say next.

What would you do if you were here?

He chuckles.

Kiss that filthy mouth of yours. And then the top of your head because that's closest to your dirty mind.

What dirty mind?

Yeah, yeah, I see right through you, Fräulein.

I don't know what you're talking about.

No? So, you aren't thinking about me fucking you from behind right now? Or maybe about you spreading your legs and me eating you out, your delicious pussy right in my face? Or about my dick pushing into your mouth until you gag around it, hm?

I clear my throat.

Well, now I am for sure.

Good. Because I'm thinking about it as well.

König?

Yes, Liebes?

I- There's something that always helps me sleep better.

His voice deepens.

And what's that?

Oh, you already know.

I need to hear you say it. What do you want?

I hesitate, feeling a little shy now.

I want to come.

He groans.

Fuck, can't deny you if you ask so prettily.

The tone of his voice sends a little shiver down my spine, but I'm unsure what to say now, the words on the tip of my tongue.

What- what should I do?

I can tell you what I would do if I was there, and you can tell me how it feels, okay?

Okay.

Put the phone next to you and put me on speaker. You're gonna need both of those hands.

I do exactly as he tells me, lying back into my sheets.

You're on speaker.

Good. What are you wearing, sweetcheeks?

I giggle a little.

A shirt and panties.

Hmm, my favorite. I would get rid of your underwear in an instant though.

I laugh and follow his suggestion. I already noticed his disdain for underwear, on himself as well.

Then I would slowly push my hand up your shirt, feeling your soft skin.

Until I reach your breasts, squeezing them.

I do as he says, but it doesn't quite feel the same with my hands, compared to his bigger ones.

I would graze my thumb over your nipples, feeling them harden from my touch.

I'd like to lick them, bite them just lightly, until you squirm under me.

I pinch them, his words mixing with the sensations of my touch, until I softly sigh.

Feeling good?

Mhm.

The sound is more a moan than anything else.

My hand would slowly wander down, until I'm there, just were you want me.

I whimper when my fingers reach my clit, swollen and sensitive.

That bad, huh?

Well, somebody sent a picture of them all sweaty and hot after working out. And I still can't think straight, just thinking about that.

He laughs.

You say such nice things, Liebes.

What would you do next?

I know that I sound desperate. But I need more.

I’d move my hand just a little further down. Not pushing into you just yet. Just teasing. Softly stroking over your wet pussy.

I whine, needy, but I don't dare to stray from his order, getting myself worked up with the teasing touches.

Just feeling how fucking wet you are for me, before pushing my finger into you.

I push one of my fingers inside me, the one digit not nearly being enough.

Miss your fingers, they're bigger.

He hums. A soft erotic sound.

I suppose they are.

I’d add a second one, slowly moving inside you, just how you like it. Hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan and roll your eyes back. Just how I like it.

His voice is getting deeper, his breaths a little more labored, as he keeps talking which sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing that guiding me through it like that, hearing me sigh in response, does it for him as well lets a little smile form on my face.

I do as he says, but I also get a little frustrated, because my fingers can't quite reach like his, my hips squirming, desperate for more friction.

Need more.

I whine.

Okay, then. Brat.

I would flip you on your front, so I could look at your ass.

I can't help the little eyeroll, while a grin stalks onto my face.

But you aren't here, and you can't actually see my butt.

Pssscht, I'm imagining it just fine. Come on, turn around, do as I tell you.

And I do, the rustling of my sheets telling him as far.

Good.

Just this word alone, from his lips, does things to me.

Now, lift up your hips just a little and push your fingers in from behind.

I follow his instructions, lifting my ass, so I can reach a little better, two of my fingers slipping into my pussy. I groan a little bit.

How's that? A little deeper?

Yes.

I sigh.

Good. Now, put your other fingers on your clit.

I push my arm under my body, placing the hand, right between my legs. My fingertips are digging into the sensitive nub and I rub against them needily. I know now why he wanted me to reposition myself.

Oh fuck.

The sounds I’m making are telling him what he wants to know.

Just like that.

Move your hips, fuck yourself on your fingers.

And I do as he tells me, the touches getting me worked up fast, the pressure on my clit changing with every pass, while my fingers are pushing into my pussy.

Hmm, feeling good?

Yeah, just wish it was you inside me.

That little confession dropped out of me before I could think too hard about it.

Fuck, me too. I would bury my dick deep inside you. Fuck you from behind. Hard, just how you like it.

Remember how I fucked you into that bar counter?

How could I forget?

We need to do that again sometime... You took me so fucking perfectly.

I bite my lip, stifling the moans that get louder and louder, the images of us fucking spurring me on, while I finger-fuck myself.

I wanna hear you. Please.

My head turns in the direction of the phone again, making sure he gets to hear all the sounds that are dropping from my lips.

Good girl.

His praise washes over me and I almost choke up when the pull inside gets too much.

Close, so clo-

Fuck, yes. Come. That's what you wanted, isn't it?

The growl in his voice tips me over the edge, moving my hips frantically in search for more friction, when my orgasm crashes down over me.

My moans fill my bedroom, and surely find their way into the phone.

I can hear him groan as well, the sounds from the speaker sounding a lot like a slick hand moving up and down quickly.

Fuck, he’s jerking off too. That thought registers in my brain, before my fingers hit that spot inside me again. The zap of pleasure makes me shake, the waves of arousal washing over me, while my fingers strum over my clit.

Fuuuck…

A low breathy curse that escapes his lips as he comes as well.

Panting, mine and his from the speaker, is all I hear for the next moments.

I untangle myself, my fingers slipping out of me, turning onto my back again. Feeling my own wetness on my hands. I clean myself haphazardly before I grab the phone again.

That was… something else.

Yeah… you drive me crazy, you know that?

I’m still just breathing, trying to calm myself down. My god, I don’t think I ever came that hard with just my fingers inside me. The images he put in my mind… his deep soft voice alone. It does stuff to me. Hearing him say that... how I drive him crazy as well, it makes me all giddy inside.

I feel the familiar fuzzy feeling sweep over me, and I wish I could snuggle into him right now, after he made me come, and my hazy mind is still looking for the right thing to say now.

Feeling better now?

Yes, much better.

Sleepy, too?

Yes, that too. I always get a little sleepy afterwards.

I've noticed.

Like on cue, I yawn.

Thank you.

He chuckles again. And I don't think I'll ever get enough of that sound.

No need to thank me. I'll make you come any day of the week.

I- meant for calling, but that works too.

The grin on my face probably mirrors his, staring off into the distance with our phones pressed to the ear. And he's still not here next to me.

Gotta get myself under the shower, because I made a mess of myself again and I got nobody here to clean me up.

That makes me laugh, the joke and the filthy thought cutting through the sleepiness, when I'm yawning again.

You do that, can't have you all messy like that.

No, we can't.

I can hear the little filthy grin in his voice, and I can imagine how he must look like right now. Sitting on the couch or his bed. His dick still out, all messy and sticky with his cum. His hair hanging over the side of his face, as he relaxes into the cushions. And that god damn smirk of his.

Silence, just two little moments, before I ask what I wanted to ask.

Can you come over tomorrow?

Sure, Kleine, whatever you want.

Okay, good. Good night, König.

Good night, sleep well.

That's the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep, still gripping my phone tight with my fingers.

next part: gaming with him or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: two lineups of the Paranatural AU versions of the Commission characters; one set ten years ago and one set in the present of the au.

Ten years ago: only part of Carmichael's head is a fish tank; Herb has a dad-stache and is wearing a button up with a v neck; Dot has no glasses and her hair isn't pulled back; the Handler has longer hair and is wearing a typical Commission suit; Five is a teenager instead of an adult; Cha Cha has longer hair; Hazel has longer hair and a fuller beard; and the person who runs the commission, who is God in TUA, is a cowboy and a horse instead of a little girl. End ID.]

A look at the Paranatural au version of the Commission! They do basically the same thing as the Consortium in Paranatural (aka who the fuck knows not me, something to do with keeping spirits in line) and it is also similar to the Consortium in one other important respect that i will get to shortly

Some notes on designs:

reminder that AJ is a medium (person who is possessed by a spirit), and mediums (and tools) look more and more like their spirit over time. ergo, he has more human features ten years ago.

the handler probably wasn't management ten years ago, so she has to make do with the regular uniform

five probably wasnt actually in the commission ten years ago (tho he WAS already a spectral) but hes here anyway for thoroughness

i almost forgot to put hazel and cha cha in here which is a crime

hazel is 100% the guy who had a ponytail when he was 21

cha cha's spirit power is this gun she found

and finally

the little girl god runs the commission in this!! of course she does!! why didn't i think of it sooner. In the webcomic, the consortium is run by a mysterious medium whose spirit is a wight.... except it turns out theyre not actually a person at all, but a construct made to look human by a very very powerful wight. Every so often the wight 'retires' the current construct and installs a new one; thus, the little girl is the commission's current model, and cowboy god from the comics was her predecessor!

[ominouslywritinginmyhead]

A little present for @anonimusunnoaniswriting based on a conversation we had a long time ago.

Sending you lots of love Noni ❤️

Notes and warnings: f!reader, profanity, suggestive moments but nothing really nsfw, no beta we die like Daichi

Life sucks.

Your boss is a power-hungry, profit-horny dick who refuses to give you a decent raise or more time off, your coworkers are so incompetent that you’ve been cleaning up their messes since your TRAINING PERIOD, your utility bills have gone up again, and your air conditioner is starting to smell funny.

It doesn’t help that your washing machine broke down literally two hours before you accidentally spilled soup all over yourself.

Yeah, life sucks.

So here you are, stuck in the local laundromat at midnight, having shoved a soggy and soupy blouse and jeans into the washer with the rest of your clothes almost half an hour ago, spending precious 100-yen coins on salvaging what’s left of your sanity. There’s nobody around, and while your neighbourhood is relatively safe, you don’t like being out so late - even if you’re just two buildings away from home.

I should’ve waited until morning, you scold yourself. But you have work tomorrow and you’re almost out of office-appropriate shirts. You desperately need something for the morning, and heaven knows when the repair guy will be able to fix your washing machine.

The automatic door slides open, and a tall, muscular man with dark spiky hair walks in with his own pile of laundry. It’s the guy from the building opposite yours, Iwaizumi something-or-the-other, and just seeing him makes you want to crawl into the earth and never come out again.

Of all the times you see the resident hottie, it just HAD to be now, when you’re in an old, crumpled tee and sweatpants, wearing Cinnamoroll slippers. Your hair is a wreck too, uncombed and held back by clips you’ve been using for at least five years. At least there’s no soup on your clothes.

Why is he wearing a fucking tank top???? And has he gotten more muscular since the last time you saw him two weeks ago????

Ugh. Life sucks.

Even so, you can’t help staring when he walks through the laundry room and starts chucking his own clothes into the machine. His broad shoulders, his veiny arms, his legs, his hard face…fuck, you’re down bad. You don’t even care that he’s frowning all the time. You just care about that jaw you could cut your finger on.

Life may suck, but at least there’s a Greek God living in your neighbourhood.

You watch as he inserts some coins into the machine and adjusts the settings on the washer before pressing START with his thumb, and your mind immediately conjures up a fantasy of him stroking your lower lip with the exact same thumb - which is enough to make your brain short-circuit and set your face on fire.

The worst part is that Iwaizumi chooses that exact moment to look around and see you on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. Shit.

“Hey,” he says quietly, and you almost choke on your own saliva. The Iwaizumi, saying hello to you?

It takes everything you’ve got to not turn around and check if there’s anyone behind, just in case he was saying hey to the wall and not you. “Uh…hi, Iwaizumi-san,” you manage, mouth dry.

Great start.

Iwaizumi rarely says more than this. He turns back to his laundry and you expect that’s the end of that, when he glances over his shoulders, laundry room light flickering in his eyes. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

HE’S TALKING TO YOU????

“I…yeah, I’ve been busy with work.” Technically, that’s true, but you’ve also spent the last few weeks despairing in your room about the state of the world and your personal life. That doesn’t leave much time for neighbourhood events or going anywhere except the convenience store behind your apartment building. Plus, you’ve really been cutting it close with your work commutes these days, leaving later and later from your apartment. Which means you don’t get to see Iwaizumi jogging in the mornings, his normally serious expression softened in the morning light.

“What did you say you do again?” He asks. You have a vague memory of telling him about your job at some neighbourhood cleanup your friend talked you into joining earlier this year, but you tell him again anyway.

“What about you?” You ask, checking the timer on the washer. Three minutes. You’re not sure if you want those three minutes to go faster or slow down. At least you’re talking somewhat normally and not in those weird squeaks that left your mouth the first time you had a conversation with him last year.

“Physical training,” he answers briefly. “I work with athletes and coaches and stuff. Used to be an athlete myself.”

That explains why he’s so buff. The part of your brain that’s stuck in fantasyland now thinks it’s a great idea to imagine Iwaizumi wearing a fitted t-shirt that displays his firm arms and washboard abs and—

Stop that, you scold yourself. This is not the time!

Two minutes. Just two more minutes. You can dry your clothes at home.

You lick your lips. Why must they be so dry? “Do you, uh, come here often?”

“Often enough,” he says. “The machines here are bigger than what I have at home. You?”

“Not really,” you admit, “but my washing machine just broke down today, and there was a bit of an emergency, so…” You trail off, hoping he won’t push further.

“Ah, gotcha.” He looks at you sympathetically. “Hope whatever stains you have come off easily.”

“I hope so too.” You threw your clothes in the sink as fast as you could to scrub the stains off, but stopping yourself from getting soup burns was a little more important at the time, so you’re not sure what’s going to happen.

Only one way to find out.

The buzzer goes off, and your clothes are ready. Hauling the washer door open, you start yanking things out and shoving them into your laundry basket. Everything’s still damp, but the faster you can put things away the faster you can go home and stop fantasising about the man standing a few feet away and his voice and his jaw and his hands and his—

Hold it RIGHT there, buddy; you don’t wanna think of what’s in his pants NOW.

That part can be saved for later, preferably when alone in bed.

You’re so preoccupied with putting your clothes away that you barely register the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind. It’s no big deal.

And then you hear Iwaizumi say your last name.

Still holding the basket, you turn so quickly that you don’t see just how close he is to you…which has you crashing into him, laundry and all, sending half your clothes jumping out of the basket.

You almost fall back as you collide with his rock-hard abs, but he catches you just in time. Unfortunately, that’s worse, because now you have his muscular arms around you, those large hands with callused fingers pressed against your back, holding you a little too close to him, your bodies so close you can see every little mark and bump on his face and neck and shoulders.

And you can see one more thing, having flown out of your laundry basket in the chaos and landed on his neck:

Your lacy black bra with the little ribbon in the middle.

The bra you bought on sale last March. The bra you once said was “the perfect mix of sexy and sophisticated.” The bra that was specifically launched for Valentine’s Day.

As the saying goes, life sucks.

Kill me, you plead to whatever higher power is up there. You don’t believe in the existence of said higher power, but you need one to exist right now. Just kill me, please, I am BEGGING you.

Of all the clothes that could have landed on your longtime crush, it just had to be the Valentine Dreams Limited Edition one.

Why? And why did it have to happen to you?

Life REALLY sucks right now.

“Uh…” Iwaizumi goes tomato-red as he gingerly peels the bra off his tank top. “Here you go.”

“Th-thanks,” you stammer, grabbing the bra and shoving it deep into the basket, your face on fire once again. One of Iwaizumi’s hands is still on your back, and fuck, the warmth of his fingers is sending a tingle down your spine. HELP, you scream internally. SOMEONE KILL ME. PLEASE.

Thankfully, the next best thing happens: Iwaizumi lets you go. Immediately, you pick up all the fallen clothes and put them back where they belong, slamming the basket lid shut for good measure.

Iwaizumi hasn’t moved. When you finally get your bearings, you look at him and bite your lip. “I’m sorry about that,” you say.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replies. “I shouldn’t have startled you. I…I wanted to ask you something, but I guess I should’ve waited a bit.”

“Ask me what?” You say, gaping at him. The two of you have hardly spoken beyond the occasional neighbourhood gathering and the handful of times you’ve encountered each other while he’s on his morning jog and you’re heading to work. What could he possibly want to ask you?

He takes a deep breath, the redness of his cheeks fading to a light pink. “I…I wanted to ask…if you’d like to go on a date with me one of these days.”

The laundromat goes silent, the humming of the machine with Iwaizumi’s clothes disappearing into nothingness as his words echo around you,

A date. With Iwaizumi.

A DATE.

A DATE.

You blink at him once, twice, three times. “I…what?” Your mouth and brain aren’t coordinating with each other, and you could scream in frustration.

If Iwaizumi notices anything odd, he doesn’t say. “I know, it’s, uh, kinda weird, because we haven’t really talked much.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But, uh, I’d really like to get to know you better, and take you out on a date. If you’re interested, that is.”

He…he wants to WHAT????

Get to know you? You? Are you hearing this right or is it just a figment of your imagination?

The way he looks at you now…this is the first time you’ve seen him without a scowl or frown or neutral-bordering-on-frowning expression. You see his eyes soften as he watches you, a tiny bit of hope on his face as he waits for your answer.

The Iwaizumi. Neighbourhood hottie and guy you’ve had a crush on since the day you first saw him jogging in the neighbourhood. And now, the man who has just asked you out - even though your bra almost landed on his face just minutes ago.

And you are interested. Even if the sputtering sounds you’re making right now convince him you’re breaking down. The question is, how do you turn these sounds into something coherent?

“If-if you’re not interested, then you don’t have to force yourself,” Iwaizumi adds hastily. “I won’t feel bad if you say no, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Wha—” Shit, you have to fix this right now, before he assumes you’ve turned him down. “Y-y-yes,” you finally manage. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” you add in one breath.

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to blink. “Really?”

You nod, not trusting your tongue anymore.

“That’s, uh, that’s great,” he says. “Can I…can I get your number? We can plan something for the weekend.”

In response, you practically shove your phone at him. He doesn’t even flinch as it presses against his stomach. Fuck, he’s strong.

He enters his number in your phone, and you add yours to his. When you look at his contact details, you finally learn his full name.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

You wonder what it would be like to call him Hajime. Every time you’ve spoken, you’ve just used each other’s last names. He’s always been Iwaizumi-san to you.

“So, uh…see you around?” He says, looking down at your full name.

“Yeah…see you, Iwaizumi-san.” You give him the tiniest of smiles, your heart racing.

As you take yourself and the laundry basket out of the laundromat, you hear him call your name again. “Yes?” You say, turning around.

He gives you a small smile back. “Call me Hajime.”

Maybe life doesn’t suck after all.

****

“Soooo…what did she say?”

Iwaizumi struggles to hide his irritation at Oikawa’s shit-eating grin. Is it possible to punch someone over video call? “She said yes,” is all he tells the annoyance he’s known all his life. “We’re going out this weekend.”

“That’s nice. I’m really happy for you, Iwa-chan.”

“Thanks.” Iwaizumi can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about you. Sure, the bra incident was embarrassing as fuck, but maybe the two of you will be able to laugh at that someday. That is, if you’re both able to make it through the first date.

Even in those casual clothes, you looked so adorable. Your fluffy Cinnamoroll slippers, locks of your hair spilling out of the hairclip, your eyes shining as you smiled at him…he can’t wait to see you again. And again. And again.

“Awww, Iwa-chan’s in looooooove~”

“Shut up, Shittykawa!”

[notyourjaem]

— quiet for me 𖤐 choi yeonjun

summary: you and yeonjun sneak in a quick fuck in the dorms while (most of) the guys are out.

pairing: boyfriend!/idol!yeonjun & reader

genre: smut!! (18+ readers only pls)

word count: 951

warnings: lots of kissing, unprotected sex, reader is on birth control, nipple play, biting/nibbling, fingering, cumshot. (think that is all)

authors note: welcome, welcome! my first ever txt smut writing! I’m a new writer for txt (I am a seasoned bts writer) so please be nice. I thought it would be fitting to make my first post my yeonjunie. anywayzzz I hope u enjoy.

—

“Be quiet for me.” Yeonjun’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Can you do that?”

You bit down onto your bottom lip, nodding in response. Most of the guys were out for the night, all except for Soobin. He was down the hallway, most likely in his room gaming or reading. You and Yeonjun both tried not to have sex in the dorms, especially not when any of the other guys were around. But unfortunately, that didn’t always go as planned.

“Good girl.” Yeonjun smirked at you, looking down at your body as he hovered over you. You were wearing one of his t shirts, and now it was hiked up to expose your naked body to him.

“Jun.” You called out to him, pulling his tank top up and over his head. He leaned down to kiss you; his dainty gold chain necklace swinging.

You moaned against his mouth, your hands moving to comb your fingers through his dark hair. The fact that it was growing longer was not lost on you; you loved long hair on Yeonjun.

Yeonjun began kissing along your jaw, one of his hands lightly touching your waist and moving towards your ruined panties that you still had on.

“Jun.” You quietly moaned when he brushed his fingertips over your covered core; already so sensitive.

“Yes, I’m right here.” Yeonjun’s voice was low, muffled by your skin.

He pulled the fabric of your panties away from your cunt; the sudden cold air startling a little bit.

Yeonjun swore under his breath when his fingers met your swollen clit, and you opened your legs more; wanting to feel more of him.

While Yeonjun’s middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, you felt his warm mouth around your left nipple; sucking and biting as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

You let out a rather loud moan that you probably shouldn’t have, making Yeonjun shush you as he started finger fucking you harder. Now it was extremely difficult to be quiet.

Yeonjun was leaving sloppy, wet kisses all over your chest as he was making a mess between your legs, the noise obscene.

“Jun. I need you to fuck me.” You whined. “Please I can’t wait any more.” Your fingers were in his hair and now you were practically yanking on him.

“Okay, okay.” Yeonjun sat up slightly and yanked off your panties, throwing them onto the floor of his room. He pulled down his sweatpants, along with his underwear, and you let out a whine when you saw how hard he was.

“Please, please.” You didn’t realize you were pulling on him, as if he could get any closer to you.

“Yes, yes.” Yeonjun smirked at you, his hair falling in his face. You opened your legs more and felt him align himself with your entrance; you sucked in a breath.

The tinge of pain made you whine, and Yeonjun’s head dropped as he tried not to be loud.

“Oh my god.” He muttered under his breath when he bottomed out inside of you. “You feel so good.”

You on the other hand could barely form a sentence. Instead, you nodded, combing your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair at the nape of his neck.

He was thrusting slowly, but deep; making your brain short circuit. You felt Yeonjun’s cockhead brush against your g-spot; making your body shudder.

Suddenly, Yeonjun froze. You didn’t quite process what was going on until you heard movement out in the hallway. You guessed it to be Soobin coming out of his room to take a shower.

You took a deep breath, the fact that Yeonjun’s cock was plunged inside of you to the hilt was not lost on you. If for some reason Soobin came in here, this would be awkward.

You heard the water turn on, and that was all clear. Now you knew Soobin couldn’t hear you both.

Without warning, Yeonjun started to fuck into you faster.

“Fucking finally.” Yeonjun grunted, grabbing hold of your hips to steady you. “Let me hear you, pretty baby.”

“Fuck! Your cock, Jun.” You whined, practically having to hold onto him at this point.

“Mhm. Tell me.”

You really hoped Soobin couldn’t hear any of this. Yeonjun really did have you doing the most obscene things when in the moment, and now probably wasn’t the best time to scream about how great his band mates dick was.

You only let out a whine, arching your back off Yeonjun’s bed. You were dangerously close to an orgasm, and Yeonjun was hardly slowing down.

Your arousal was making a mess out of your inner thighs, making the sloppiest noises every time Yeonjun thrusted into your cunt.

“Fuck.” He moaned. “You drive me insane. Making a mess out of my bed sheets.”

You didn’t even give him any warning before your orgasm hit you. You clutched onto his forearms as his thrusts didn’t stop. You felt like you were shaking beneath him, which you probably were.

“Fuck, Jun.” You moaned, still in a post orgasmic daze. “Cum in me, I wanna feel you.”

“You sure?” He leaned down and placed soft kisses on your lips and around your mouth, asking so politely even though he knew you were on birth control.

You nodded. “Please.”

You gasped when you felt him release himself inside of you, slowly continuing thrusting into you to try and not make a mess; he’d probably fail anyways. You whined due to the overstimulation, and he pulled out; both of you panting before realizing the shower was still running just down the hall.

“Fuck, thank god for Soobin and his stupid long showers.”