#family of fame whores

[zot3-flopped]

"A mother can't even make decisions on how she parents her own children"

What the fuck is wrong with this woman? How is allowing 5m plus people to view photos of your two year old in the bath "parenting"? She's honestly even more stupid than her dumbass brother and that's saying something.

Poor Lucky. He doesn't even enjoy being photographed and scowls every time he sees a camera.

[barleyo]

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

[eggtargaryenii]

EAST OF THE SUN | PART I

You were a disgrace to House Targaryen, the product of an impulsive wedding between a lost prince and some Essosi whore. You had little social capital within the Red Keep and few prospects for marriage, but that was alright. You were perfectly happy to stay out of the game of thrones, wed some politically relevant lord of Alicent Hightower’s choosing, and die in peaceful obscurity. Unfortunately for you, Prince Aemond had other designs for your future.

5.8k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys (though sadly, jace is not in this chapter). romance, childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. warnings for targaryen incest (between cousins), xenophobia/racism (depending on how you interpret the reader's racial coding), teenagers discussing sex, and a reference to underage sex in canon. the reader is half-valyrian and half-essosi, ethnically undefined. features are not described but she is considered conventionally attractive. dividers from @/cafekitsune.

I. THE HERMIT, REVERSED

You were a child when you learned that your mother was a whore.

Your father—a cousin to King Viserys—found your mother in one of the famed pillowhouses of Lys and brought her home as a souvenir. She was already heavy with you when they landed in Blackwater Bay, singing to you as your father cradled her belly every night. Though they had already been wedded in the Red Temple of Volantis, their union blessed by the light of R’hllor, it was your father’s wish that their love was also witnessed by the gods of Westeros. They were wedded once more in the Great Sept of Baelor, in a ceremony that was an affront to your grandsire, Prince Velarion. So wroth was he that everyone anticipated a terrible fate for your little family: the marriage annulled, your father forced into penance, and your mother killed.

But to the displeasure of Prince Velarion, one of the dragons chose you for a bond. (You were still in the womb when Wildfyre started clicking and squawking at you, and snarling at any man who came near your mother; he did not stop until you claimed him at ten-and-two, soaring upon his back through the skies of Myr.) The dragon keepers insisted that this was a sign that you were chosen by the gods of Old Valyria, so the lives of you and your mother were spared.

Still—your mother was eventually exiled, and your lord father wished to see her back to Lys. You had cried bitterly and begged to go with them, but your father said that the journey through the Stepstones would be too dangerous. He entrusted you to Viserys until his return, and then embarked on a journey that should not have taken more than one hundred days.

Ten years later, you still waited for him.

It was hard to recall when it was concluded that your father was unlikely to return; you only remembered that you did not accept it. The mornings and evenings of your early childhood were spent watching all the ships that passed through Blackwater Bay, waiting for red-and-black sails and a man you could now hardly remember. You only stopped once you flew through the skies of the Free Cities on dragonback, and not a single lost prince waved to you from among the crowds.

Your father’s disappearance left your position in jeopardy. The King could have easily taken control of his wealth and disinherited you if he so wished—as your grandsire was inclined—but His Grace instead decided that you should stay in the Red Keep and be treated like any other trueborn Targaryen. You were told as a child that this was an act of magnanimity, a gesture born out of love for his lost cousin, but you later came to realise that it was likely a self-serving move conjured up by Otto Hightower. Marriages were the easiest way to form political alliances; having an extra Targaryen lady to marry off was good leverage.

But despite your utility, you were still a stain within the Red Keep—a disgrace for the histories of the Targaryen dynasty. Nearly as great of one as Princess Saera herself, though perhaps still not quite as embarrassing as the three bastards sired by Lord Strong unto Princess Rhaenyra. Nevertheless, you were still a pariah. After all, children inherit the sins of their parents in the eyes of the Seven, meaning that your mother’s sin was also yours.

And so—when you were a child, you learned that if your mother was a foreign whore, then so too were you.

II. JUSTICE, REVERSED

Aemond was a child when he learned that people mistook you for a whore.

He learned this by listening to his queen mother, eavesdropping on a hushed conversation between her and his father. They were at a tourney, the crowd abuzz with chatter, which was perhaps why they were speaking so openly. The Queen stared at you as you sat next to Helaena, frowning at the closeness between the two of you. Being close in age, it was natural that the two of you spoke to each other frequently. You were a little older than all three of Alicent’s children and, as was common of a girl your age, you had prepared a favour: a ring of forget-me-nots interwoven with a ribbon you often wore. It was simple, but pretty, and it gave Aemond a feeling of deep distaste for some reason he couldn't identify.

His mother seemed to find it distasteful too. “Hard to believe she prepared a favour,” she said. She used the tone with which she often spoke of Princess Rhaenyra, the one that suggested derision. Aemond listened carefully, as he tended to whenever you came up in the conversation.

“And why would that be?” his lord father asked. He sounded defensive, also similar to the way he always did when his firstborn daughter came up. And as with Rhaenyra, Alicent seemed not to care for his sentimentality toward you.

“Well, what man would think to ask for it,” she asked, not delicately, “given her parentage?”

“Whatever you may think of her mother,” the King replied, “the girl is still a trueborn Targaryen. It is natural that she may catch the attention of some lordling or knight.”

“Surely not one with any faith, nor any serious ambitions in the court,” Alicent remarked. “Because she is—”

She paused then, hesitating. When Aemond snuck a glance at his father, he saw a stiff smile on his face.

“She is?” he questioned.

“...she resembles her mother more and more with each passing day,” Alicent remarked. “And one would think that she is similar. Foreign and improper in nature. A daughter of sin.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed. His mother spoke often of sin, of those who should beg for the grace of the Seven lest they be condemned to hell. She often reminded Aegon not to commit any such transgressions lest he disgrace the family, which he seemed to often do anyway. Aemond did not think you were particularly like his older brother, who stank constantly of wine and snuck off to Flea Bottom on every possible occasion. On the contrary, you were mostly well-behaved—except when you were quarrelling with Aegon—hardly ever indulged in any vices, and you only ever snuck out of your room to make miserable, wistful faces at the waters of Blackwater Bay.

And unlike Aegon, you were also kind.

Aemond did not know why exactly you had always been so nice to him; he just knew that you were unwaveringly so. Perhaps you felt a kind of kinship with him because he was frequently as miserable as you. For as long as the two of you had known each other, you had never once teased Aemond, and you in fact defended him. Just a few moons ago, you’d shouted at Aegon after the incident with the pig in the dragonpit, comforted Aemond after the fact, and encouraged him to claim Vhagar thereafter. To show up your ass of a brother, you’d suggested. And when Lucerys slashed his face open in the aftermath, you kept Aemond company for the entire duration of the recovery—watching them remove his ruined eye despite your disgust, keeping him company at his bedside when a fever took him, glowering at the Strong bastards whenever they came near him. Only his mother cared for him more deeply.

Aemond did not know what kind of sin such a kind person could have committed—what his queen mother should be referring to. So he turned to his brother and asked, “What does Mother mean by that?”

“Mean by what?” Aegon asked, eyes on the knights before the crowd. Clearly distracted.

“She called our cousin a daughter of sin. What does she mean?”

“Oh.” His brother glanced briefly at you, eyes considering. They travelled down your silhouette in a way that Aemond misliked for some reason he couldn't identify. “She means our cousin is a whore.”

“A whore?” Aemond asked, questioning. He’d heard the word many times, of course—sometimes uttered by his brother, and once lobbed at Princess Rhaenyra—and understood it as an insult. But no one had ever explained its specific meaning to him.

Aegon gave him an incredulous look. “You don't know what a whore is?” At Aemond's blank expression, Aegon explained, “It means she spreads her legs for money and is destined to go to hell. You know, like the women on the Street of Silk.” He paused, sizing up Aemond. “I should take you there someday, give you a proper education—then you’ll know exactly what mother means when she says ‘daughter of sin’.”

“I know what sex is,” Aemond replied defensively, though he didn't entirely know the details. “I'm not stupid.” He frowned then. “She doesn't work on the Street of Silk, though.”

“No, but her mother worked in a Lysene pillow house—much the same as the Street of Silk, though I hear the establishments of Lys are nicer, and filled with the most beautiful slaves from all over Essos.” Aegon looked at you again in a way that Aemond did not like. “I wonder if she inherited any of her mother’s talents. Maybe she’ll let me fuck her someday and I'll find out.”

Aemond felt a sense of disgust at the thought, even without fully knowing what his brother was imagining. All he knew was that he hated the thought of his brother putting his hands on you. “She wouldn't.”

“She would.”

“Would not.”

“Would too.”

“Would not! Who’d want to lay with you?”

Aegon scoffed. “Every woman from the Wall to Yi Ti, of course. Who wouldn't want to fuck a Targaryen prince?” He elbowed Aemond. “That includes you too, you know. Maybe if you pay her, she’ll let you have a turn as well. Then I wouldn't even need to take you to the Street of Silk to become a man.”

The feeling of disgust intensified. Not knowing what to do with it, Aemond kicked Aegon in the shin, making the young man yelp.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being an ass.”

“An ass? I'm giving you advice, man to man! Guiding you toward adulthood and a glorious night with our Lysene beauty of a cousin!”

“I don't want a glorious night with her.”

“Fine, then—I alone will enjoy her.”

Aemond kicked him again, and Aegon cursed. “Little shit!” he hissed, which—as Aemond had planned—earned him a violent shush and a glare from their mother. His brother gave him a dirty look for the manipulation.

“I don't know why you're getting all sensitive about this,” Aegon said. He squinted at Aemond then, discerning. “Say—is this jealousy? Insecurity? Are you worried that you aren’t man enough to bed her?”

Aemond glowered at him, which made Aegon laugh and clap his back.

“No need to worry if she rejects you, little brother. I know a number of skilled women on the Street of Silk, any one of them as good in bed as our cousin should be. After all, one whore’s as good as another.”

Aegon scowled. “Stop calling her that. She’s a lady of House Targaryen, not a whore.”

“Who says a lady can't be a whore? Just think of our Great-aunt Saera! I guess you wouldn’t know, but she ended up in a pleasure house, first in Flea Bottom, and now somewhere in Lys. And look at our half-sister—mother to three bastards. I'm sure our dear cousin will follow in their footsteps. It's in her blood.”

“She wouldn't do that,” Aemond replied sharply. “She's nothing like those two.”

How could you be? Princess Saera had been a vile person and Rhaenyra was a self-serving liar. Both Aegon and his mother had to be wrong about you—Aemond was sure of it. His mother treated you with such judgement, but he was certain you were undeserving of it.

He was sure of it too when his brother finally took him to the Street of Silk years later, and he bedded a woman for the first time. Sylvi was her name. She was indeed very skilled, and she was kind as well—stroking his hair afterwards and praising him for doing such a good job. It reminded him somewhat of his mother’s touch upon his head after Lucerys took out his eye, and the way you held his hand as his fever set in. But that was the end of any similarity between you and Sylvi; and in that respect, you were much more like his mother than this strange woman anyway. Aemond knew then that you were neither a whore nor a sinner. He couldn’t imagine you disgracing yourself like the girls who sold themselves at the brothel, let alone selling yourself to someone like his brother.

But his mother had been right about one thing: no one asked for your favour that day during the tourney. You’d sighed at the ring of flowers, looking a little forlorn, and tossed it later onto the floor of the godswood—an offering for the old gods, you'd said to the weirwood, because the new ones were shit. Aemond watched you from behind an ancient oak, waiting for you to leave. Once he was certain you were gone, he snatched your favour from the ground. He studied it carefully, eyes tracing the ribbon woven deftly between the flowers. He remembered that you wore it when you stayed by his bedside.

He untangled it from the ring of forget-me-nots, and he decided to take it back to his room.

III. THE MAGICIAN

Alicent Hightower was eager to marry you off.

The Small Council had spent the past several weeks discussing the prospects of your marriage. Without any parents to oversee your betrothal, the decision of your match laid entirely in the hands of King Viserys—which was to say, in the hands of Otto Hightower and his daughter. Alicent had very little love for you—no pious woman in her right mind would love a daughter of sin—but you were glad for her influence in some ways. Rhaenyra, before she left King’s Landing, relayed to you that Otto had brought up your future betrothal when you were as young as ten, but Alicent cautioned him against premature decisions. Let us not waste the opportunity given to us by her marriage, she always chided, but Rhaenyra had the sense that it had less to do with politics and more to do with wanting to spare you from the fate of a child bride.

But now you were a woman grown, and you were quickly becoming a nuisance for the Queen. She had been willing to tolerate your presence near her children when you were all young and she was charged with raising you, but she had recently begun imagining that you had corruptive influence over her sons. Aegon regularly talked of how much he'd love to bed you, which made her furious with him; and Aemond always insisted on having your company, which made her furious with you. Ever since your first blood, the Red Keep had regularly been plagued by rumours of your indiscretions with whichever knight or lord with whom you were most seen. Most recently, the most popular whisper was that Prince Aemond was your lover and you were secretly carrying his child. Why else would such an adroit and honourable young man regularly associate with the daughter of a whore?

Alicent had been apoplectic when she heard the rumours. They were, you supposed, believable. Her second son had always been strangely attached to you, nearly to the exclusion of all others. He didn't even treat his own sister with such affection—and he certainly held no such love for his brother—so a carnal relationship was a somewhat natural conclusion for an outsider. You, however, withered at the thought. Aemond may now be as comely as the Maiden herself, but you still saw him as the awkward little boy whom you grew up alongside and whom you constantly defended from his bullies.

Of course, his mother had no way of knowing any of this; she could only see the signs of a sordid affair between the two of you. That Alicent Hightower had raised you out of the goodness of her heart and you chose to return this favour by corrupting her son and engaging in the great sin of fornication was a huge upset. Not only did she chew you out in the throne room in front of King Viserys, utterly humiliating you—she also designed to send you to the Silent Sisters.

You could have easily ingratiated yourself to her with the correct penance. You could have distanced yourself from Aemond, as well as every other man in the Red Keep. You could have dedicated yourself to studying the Seven, immersing yourself in their grace. And most of all, you could have fervently denounced your mother and fervently renounced all sin. You could have made it clear that you were not a sinner, and especially not a harlot.

But you would lose respect for yourself if you did any of those things. You loved your mother too much to disavow her; you refused to practise a faith that would condemn her to hell simply for her profession; and most importantly, you did not want to distance yourself from Aemond. You had only three friends in this world, and that was only if you were allowed to include your dragon in the count. Your cousin Jacaerys got along well with you, but he'd long since left the capital, making Aemond your only companion in King’s Landing who was capable of human speech. (Wildfyre, though loyal, was not exactly a good conversationalist.)

All this to say, you simply did not want to let Aemond go.

In the end, you placated Alicent by making the somewhat extreme decision to invite her most trusted septa to inspect your maidenhead. When it was revealed that you were not, in fact, fucking Aemond, Alicent had no choice but to recant her allegations. Mollified, the Queen afterward extended an olive branch by meeting with you at least once a week. Repairing our relationship, she called it. By this she meant that she would spend an hour proselytising to you in an attempt to save your heathen Lysene soul, and then another hour discussing your marriage prospects. Better to be rid of you before her second son could actually be seduced by your sinful nature.

Right now you were both sitting in the garden, enjoying a pot of chrysanthemum tea in the sun. Alicent had just wrapped up an impromptu sermon about the Seven; now she was speaking to you about marriage. She kept talking about a Lord Stokeworth and a Lordling from House Tully. The former was nearly thirty years your senior and the younger was almost ten years your junior, but they were both willing to overlook the fact that people knew you as the daughter of a Lysene whore. It was more important to them that you were the blood of the dragon.

“Rivermen are especially difficult to make alliances with,” Alicent told you, “but they are bound by oaths and loyal to their kin. And I'm sure the lordling would treat you well. A marriage with a Tully would do well for all of us.”

“Rivermen are bound by oaths,” you said, “but they have already sworn loyalty toward us. They have never once expressed unrest during King Viserys’ reign, have they?”

Alicent stopped. She regarded you carefully, her fingers twitching—nails scraping against one another. She clearly wanted to use you to assure the loyalty of the Riverlands to the Hightowers, but you were unwilling to openly commit yourself to her cause. For the past several years, you'd been careful to wear neither black nor green, and this was perhaps both her greatest reason for not loving you and for not banishing you.

“That is true,” she said, “but Lord Tully has been sick a long while now, and his hold on his bannermen has loosened. Their allegiances are unclear. It would do well for the Crown to have more influence in the Riverlands, in case of any trouble during our succession.”

“I am still confused, my Queen. I do not think the Riverlands have ever been inclined to defy either their liege or the Iron Throne. They have all bent the knee to Princess Rhaenyra.” With this, you paralyzed the Queen: the only reason they would have to protest the Iron Throne was if it were ever usurped. She had just implied treason, and you would not let it go unnoticed.

You supposed it was a bold thing to point this out, but you really did not want to marry a ten year old. Ideally you'd wed a handsome lord with reasonable political standing, as far away from the Red Keep and the new gods as possible. The Riverlands were too close, and the Faith of the Seven was too strong there. On the other hand, Dorne, Winterfell, and the Iron Islands were incredibly far, and the peoples of the latter two followed entirely different faiths. Most importantly, the men of their respective noble families were quite handsome. You would happily live up to your reputation and debase yourself for Cregan Stark if the opportunity ever arose.

“If oaths were the problem,” you said delicately. “I'm sure the North could use attention. The Ironborn have always wanted for independence, and we have relied greatly on the Starks to suppress them. Or perhaps we could consider the problem of Dorne.”

“Dorne,” she repeated, her stare hard.

“King Viserys has always wanted to bring them into the kingdom, has he not?” She breathed deeply, and you added, “These are not suggestions, of course. Merely questions. I am eager to learn the wisdom of the only woman to sit on the Small Council.”

Let it not be said that you did not know how to play to people’s emotions. Alicent’s shoulders relaxed, and she took a sip of her tea. “These are good questions,” she admitted. “The problem of Dorne is too complex to manage with a simple marriage to House Targaryen, but the Greyjoy suggestion is intriguing. I might be inclined to caution the King against it, if he were to propose it. The Ironborn are a proud people. I do not think a marriage to a Targaryen lady would be enough to placate them, and a marriage to you specifically may present… a danger to the North.”

“You would worry about giving them a dragon.”

“Yes. But Winterfell…”

The Queen paused. You tried not to smile.

“Winterfell always honours their oaths,” you said, “but given what the realm asks of them, it never hurts to reward them for their loyalty. Who knows what may happen in the future?” Who knows what may happen if Prince Aegon were to ascend the Throne? “If a struggle were ever to happen at the Wall, I am sure Lord Stark and his bannermen would remember which queen sent him a Targaryen wife and a dragon in support of their struggle.”

Alicent nodded. She looked at you as if seeing you in a new light—a better one.

“I will speak to the Hand about this matter,” she determined. “I shall get his thoughts before the tourney in a fortnight, and see which families we should introduce you to then.”

“I shall prepare myself for it.”

“Good.” She smiled at you. “See to it that you are dressed well for the occasion. I feel that green would be a lovely colour on you—don’t you?”

IV. DEATH, REVERSED

“Hello, father of my bastard child!”

Your voice rang through the dragonpit, a cheerful echo in its near pitch-black depths. By the light of the torches, Aemond could barely make out your silhouette, but he could hear the lightness of your footsteps nevertheless.

For someone who had been the subject of vile accusations for the past month, you seemed awfully happy. You weren't always so thick-skinned, Aemond mused: when you were younger, he often caught you brooding in the dragonpit, sniffling at the way women talked about you and the way men leered at you. Any other child—himself included—would have been terrified to stay here, alone in darkness and brimstone, but your only friend for a long time was your dragon, so naturally his home was where you went when you were miserable. And you were very often miserable.

But you were now well-adjusted in your adulthood, apparently impervious to most insults and whispers about you. (What are they going to do? you often said dryly. Call me a tart? A temptress? That I belong in Flea Bottom? They’ve been saying that for years!) You had just taken the past month of scandal in stride, and now you seemed irreverent of it. It made Aemond tense: although he did not terribly mind that people mistook you for his lover, he still had appearances to manage. And he disliked it when people spoke ill of you. Ever since he had built a reputation as a respected prince, he made it clear that no one was to speak poorly of you before him. The only exception was his idiot brother, with whom he was meant to maintain the appearance of unity. The other day, he caught him monologuing about the ways in which he imagined Aemond was debasing you (“I hardly knew my brother had it in him! It surely had to be my cousin’s work—seducing the fierce Aemond One-Eye!”), and Aemond could scarcely hold himself back from maiming him. Still, his sword stayed within its sheath, his knuckles white and tense around its hilt.

He could not solve the issue of his brother with intimidation. Aemond could only caution you against fueling him: “If you keep talking like that, the whole of the Red Keep will start whispering about you again.”

You laughed. “Who’s going to overhear us? Will Vhagar be gossiping with Dreamfyre about our scandalous relationship?” You craned your neck, looking behind him. “Where is your old lady, anyhow? Can I give her a treat today?”

“Vhagar awaits us outside. You are always welcome to feed her, but the dragon keepers said there is a scarcity of lamb at the moment.”

“Ah, well. Let’s go find Wildfyre, then—I called for him earlier, but he didn't come. I bet he’s napping somewhere.” The two of you began walking, cutting a path through ash and crumbling bone. Aemond guided you around what looked like the fresh remains of cattle, and you thanked him, wrinkling your nose at the familiar stench of charcoal and rotting flesh.

“What you said about the lamb,” you started, “concerns me. Are the smallfolk short of livestock?”

“I have heard from the Hand that there is a sickness among the animals of the Reach, so the yield has been worse this year than most others.”

“How sad! I hope they’ll be alright.”

“The dragons are well-fed—the Hand has assured it.”

You gave Aemond a curious look. “I was speaking of the smallfolk, not the dragons.”

Aemond paused. “Of course,” he said, “the Hand will also ensure their well-being. I did not even think to question that.”

Truthfully, Aemond had not thought of the smallfolk at all, but he should have. Whenever he or Aegon spoke of the issues of the Realm, they were always your first concern—the farmers and the craftsmen and even the whores of Flea Bottom. Aegon said it was evidence of your commoner blood, but Aemond thought it was discerning of you. Were you born his eldest sister and not his eldest cousin, it would be evidence of your good judgement as a future ruler.

Though of course, if you had been his eldest sister, then you would have been wedded to Aegon—a thought that Aemond found exceptionally distasteful. In fact, the thought of any man touching you made his knuckles tighten around his sword, yet it was a reality that his mother had told him to make peace with many times.

Aemond, she told him the other day, looking at his tightly controlled expression, I know you have a great… fondness of your cousin. But the two of you are no longer children. It is improper for you to spend so much time around her. You would not want to compromise any future prospects for yourself, nor disgrace yourself in the eyes of the Seven. And god forbid you ruin her prospects. Your grandfather and I have been working hard to secure a good match for her—a difficult feat, given her parentage.

Unfortunately for Alicent, Aemond felt that the Seven could fuck themselves. And his prospects had always been lacking as the second son, but he would eventually overcome the circumstance of his birth. Aemond considered himself a loyal son, but he would not succumb to whatever mediocre designs his mother had for his future.

He would make sure that you would not, either.

“You seem happy,” he observed. “I take it your afternoon with Alicent went well?”

“Very well. I avoided a marriage to that Tully boy, and I think I may have even charmed your mother.” You flashed him a smile—one he'd been seeing since childhood, but of which he never tired. “She is now considering potential matches in the North for me. I'll likely be meeting potential suitors in the upcoming banquet—I do hope they’ll be handsome. And wealthy.”

Aemond did not bother trying to smile. “The North is very far.” He slipped into Valyrian: “You belong in the South, near skies filled with dragons and the waters of the old Freehold. You are a Targaryen, are you not?”

“I may be a Targaryen, but I am unwanted here,” you dismissed. Even after all these years, you spoke Valyrian with a Lysene accent, and—as often happened in private speech—you reverted to a vocabulary that was closer to the Low Valyrian of your mother rather than the High Valyrian taught by the maesters. Still, you were the only person in the whole of the capital more fluent in the language than Aemond; he only spoke as well as he did because he’d grown up practising with you. “The further I get away from the Red Keep, the less hated I will be.”

“But you will be alone.”

“I will have Wildfyre, my lord husband, and an entire castle of people to make friends with.”

“Or enemies of.”

“If I can charm Alicent Hightower, I do believe I can also charm anyone else in the Realm.” You grinned at him—though Aemond did not miss the careful look you gave him. “But if you're worried about being lonely, I can always fly back on Wildfyre and visit you.”

“You need not be concerned. I have many allies within the Red Keep.”

You stopped then, openly studying him. “It is—difficult,” you replied in the Common Tongue, “for me not to worry about you.”

His brow arched. Aemond could not help but stare, puzzled: you watched him enough on the training grounds to know that not only could he easily kill most men, but also that most men feared him for it.

“There are few people in this world who would worry about me,” he said neatly, and your look grew embarrassed.

“Yes, I know it’s silly of me. Why would I worry about the famed Aemond One-Eye, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Rider of Vhagar, and winner of countless tourneys?”

“Two. I've won two tourneys.”

“Well, that’s more tourneys than most will win in their lifetime. And I’m sure you'll win the one in the fortnight as well.”

Aemond did not see the point in denying it. “Perhaps. What of it?”

You breathed deeply, and Aemond could see on your face how much you were trying to be diplomatic. “What I mean to say is—you are a respected warrior with many allies. But an ally is not the same thing as a friend, and a sword cannot offer its wielder any reprieve. Sometimes I fear whom you will rely on if I leave.”

“You think I have no friends,” he said plainly, and you gave him a sheepish look. He did not smile.

“I’m just worried you don't have anyone you can actually trust here,” you explained.

Aemond would spurn the words coming from anyone else. He might even be inclined to intimidate them, simply to remind them of his position. A prince should not be so patronised.

But looking at you, with your worried eyes and furrowed brow, he thought of the two weeks you spent by his bedside as healed, and all those times you checked on him after chasing away Aegon, and how you took him dragon riding until he was as comfortable at it as you. You likely still saw the weak child he once was—a habit he could not fault you for, but which aggrieved him nevertheless.

He did not let his irritation show on his face.

“You need not worry, cousin. I do not need trust from anyone—only respect.” And respect was something he had in spades.

You gave him a dubious look, but relented. “Alright. Just know that you can always write to me, no matter how far away I am.”

Aemond hummed. He'd nearly forgotten your initial concern: the looming distance from him, the gap and loneliness that your marriage would supposedly create.

His mouth curled.

“I appreciate it, but I have the sense that you’ll end up closer to home than you think.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Your brow knotted. “Has your mother said something to you?”

“Nothing concrete,” he replied smoothly. “But nevermind—let us fetch Wildfyre. We should fly out before the day grows any older.”

The thought of flying distracted you from all others. “Yes, it would be troublesome if we stayed out too long.”

“Where would you like to go?”

You grinned. “I'll race you to Spicetown? We can go to the market and be back by midnight.”

“Midnight?” Aemond sounded—was—amused. What a free-spirited thing you were, to be careless enough to return to the Red Keep with him after curfew. “This is why those rumours started in the first place, you know.”

“It was worth the trouble, don’t you think? Or are you going to deny me now?”

He could not. Aemond was a disciplined man—his goals could not allow for much error in his life—but he also found it impossible not to humour any request from you. He did not have many joys in his childhood, and he had never outgrown his habit of wishing for the joy you brought with your happiness. It was hard for him not to indulge you.

In fact, this wish you had for your future—to marry some trifling lord beneath you and move far away from King’s Landing, the place in which you belonged—would be the first thing he would ever deny you.

END PART I

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this, please do reblog and let me know what you think - I would mega appreciate it <3

[mariclerc]

Silencing the haters | cl16 & gr63

Summary: the fans don't like your relationship with your boys, but you don't care.

Warning: hate comments.

a/n: just a little smau! i know it's a little short, it's like a second part of "petite sizes" I hope you like it <3

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ynusername

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tagged georgerussell63, charles_leclerc

ynusername life looking so sweet and lightweight lately 💗💗

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charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc half of the season down, now it's time to rest with mes amours ❤️❤️

see 673.163 comments

user1 HOLY CRAP

alex_albon best throuple in the paddock

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charles_leclerc of course you do chérie 🤍 you look like an little cute angel

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ynusername GEORGIE‼️‼️

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georgerussell63 or a recurring visitor

oscarpiastri I like the proposal of being a fly

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charles_leclerc of course i did amour 🥰 you looked so handsome and cute 🥺

ynusername our nice servant 🥰🥰

user3 oh fuck...

arthur_leclerc is this why you didn't take me on vacation?!

charles_leclerc yeah

arthur_leclerc whyy?

georgerussell63 you are a pain in the ass thur

ynusername GEORGE, PLEASE STOP‼️ HE'S A KID‼️‼️‼️

f1paddockgossip she's a bitch, wouldn't dating two men at the same time be infidelity? honestly she's such a whore

user6 yeah, she is a slut in all caps, I can't understand how they are with her...

f1gossip maybe she's a gold digger 🤭🤭

user4 she looks like a whore

georgerussell63

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tagged ynusername, charles_leclerc

georgerussell63 time to wind down 🩵🩵 📸 creds to ynusername

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carlossainz55 and why is ynusername showing her back?! 🧍🏻‍♂️

ynusername because I can, cabrón

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georgerussell63 what about me?

charles_leclerc you can be mater amour 🥰🥰

georgerussell63 that seems fine to me sweetcheeks 🥰🤭

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pierregasly oh god this is getting out of control

ynusername hm? wtf are u talking abt?

francisca.cgomes he's just a jealous baguette

ynusername i can see that 👀👀

f1paddockgossip hmm, funny... all I see here is a whore using two men for a little fame and attention

user5 my fav throuple ❤️❤️❤️

lilymhe yn it's so pretty 😍😍😍

ynusername thank u bbyyyy grlll

ynusername

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tagged charles_leclerc, georgerussell63

ynusername summer break looking like heaven on earth this year ❤️🩵💋 (pd: this was not the way we wanted to hard launch, but we had to do it anyway)

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lilymhe omg i love itttt gurlll 💗💗💗

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charles_leclerc no lando, no

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ynusername yup, we are

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ynusername very soon, I promise 🤞🏻🤞🏻

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leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️ mes amours (my loves)

ynusername je t'aime maman! 🥺❤️❤️ (i love you mom)

georgerussell63 so so gorgeous my loves, i love you both 🤍🤍

charles_leclerc i love you too georgie 🩵🩵

ynusername aww, i love you both my baby boys 🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️ you're the best ones!!

georgerussell63 aww, darling 🥹🥹 you're making me cry 😭🤍

charles_leclerc we love you sweetie 🥰💗

lewishamilton *pretends to be shocked* 😳

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[gracieheartspedro]

an: hiii lovers! this is the first year I'm doing this! I have been compiling my favorite fics this year and wanted to list them all out for you! there's a wide variety of characters here, so I am organizing them that way. just note, I am not putting all their warnings as all these fics have their own warning lists. please don't read anything that'll make you uncomfortable.

all these fics are smutty. I am a bit of a whore.

also would love to say that these may not have been written this year, simply just ones I've read this year!

happy reading <3

Joel Miller:

bitter by @pedgito - a moment of desperation and a kind gesture leads you down an inescapable path alongside two brothers and a town with a nasty secret

cherry thrill by @hellishjoel - your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity.

Homemade by @gutsby - While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

The Hills by @honeyedmiller - drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

Dirty Laundry by @pedgito - you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?

Brat (the entire series) by @shellshocklove - joel is having a brat summer.

The Right Kind of Wrong by @myownwholewildworld - your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it?

October's End by @salingers - a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller.

that's the way road dogs do it by @joelsdagger - on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past.

wherever you stray, i'll follow by @cavillscurls - Joel resents the choice to allow an unmated omega into Jackson—until he’s the only one who can help her feel at home.

absolution (the entire series) by @pedgito - Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

positions by @hellishjoel - You and Joel mutually pleasure each other while “researching” porn. 

hook em (series) by @joeloverture - trying to get back at your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you right into the arms of his coach. you plan on staying there for a little while.

Dave York:

let them feel by @guiltyasdave

Notes On Tutoring by @honestly-shite - Mr York becomes your new classical guitar tutor in your final year at music college. A dark, mysterious man, you struggle to get a read on him but that doesn't stop you from finding many ways to push his buttons. You manage to infuriate him with your stubbornness and forced complacency but there is definitely something else too. There's a pull that you feel whenever he is near. You wonder if he feels it too.

Javier Peña:

Unscripted Desire (the entire series) by @gothcsz - you’re a camerawoman that shoots pornos. javier peña is the pornstar you can’t stand. why is it that you’re always so affected by him?

When in Positano by @honeyedmiller - honeymooning in italy with your husband is a dream, especially when he reveals he wants to start a family with you.

three's a crowd by @amanitacowboy - you hadn't been with a woman for years, but for javi? you would do anything he asked and more

helping hand by @mrsmando - you and javi take a bath together.

Marcus Acacius:

Acta Non Verba by @myownwholewildworld - scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

Shadows of the love under the laurel by @stylesispunk - In the shadows of the Roman Empire, you, a devoted servant, discover love with the honorable General Marcus Acacius. You both navigate the treacherous current of social expectations when a looming marriage comes to risk everything.

Prima Nocta by @fuckyeahdindjarin - Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

Dieter Bravo:

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk - What began as a publicity stunt turns into much more than you expected.

bouquet by @mypoisonedvine - being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

salt, shot, lime by @freelancearsonist - You meet your celebrity crush in a bar; he turns out to be a lot more fun than you expected.

Lucien Flores:

Mutual by @luxurychristmaspudding - you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.

Fortnight by @pedgito - it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

Azalea by @morallyinept - A man from your past shows up at a party and leaves you on the cusp of making a life changing choice. Do you stay, or do you leave with him?

Frankie Morales:

Listen by @luxurychristmaspudding - you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel.

End Up Here by @undrthelights - you’ve had a distaste for frankie for as long as you can remember, so how did you end up here?

Din Djarin:

New Perspective by @mellowswriting - teaching the infamous Mandalorian to slow down and enjoy life isn't easy. it takes planning, patience - and silken sheets apparently.

just can’t say goodbye by @saradika

Ellie Williams:

make a woman out of me by @pearlcigs - you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

too little too late by @elleloquently - " can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time / I can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

Infiltration by @astralnymphh - your suspicious encounter has given ellie her five minutes and her knife—but can she truly measure insincerity?

Abby Anderson:

hers only by @abbyshands - gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?

good luck, babe! by @studioghibelli - your boyfriend has been cheating on you. when you confront the woman he’s been seeing, she offers you a proposition.

don't fuck your coworkers by @untitledgf-pdf - you're a server and abby is a line cook

Eddie Munson:

please, please, please by @/keeryhours - Eddie is no stranger to the Hawkins legal system. It’s no surprise to anyone when he’s dragged in cuffs again, but it is unexpected when someone catches his eye - the police chief’s daughter.

COME AGAIN by @mediocredreams - When you go to your best friend for dating advice, his perverted ways come in handy.

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart (Are Harder to Hide Than I Thought) by @andvys - A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever.

smoke me out by @strangerstilinski - you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends?

[sainzproductions]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 ⋆ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

wherein the internet hates you for breaking poor charles's heart; so you move on to his best mate.

[charles leclerc x ex!socialite reader, carlos sainz x socialite!reader]

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 103,740 others

yourusername when in spain...💗

username oop here she comes with her daily raphael clout

username poor raphael for having you as his mother🙄🤭

username i have to laugh, she's clearly using all of charles's child support to fund her lifestyle😂

username are you on crack?? her family owns about everything in italy🙄🙄

username i think she likes being bullied on social media

username so glad charles woke up from your manipulations🥰

username probably shagged some ugly bald dude for her luxurious lifestyle

username charles doesn't want you anymore girl, stay the fuck away from him

username when all the money in the world can't buy you class...

username poor charles, having to be stuck with such a vile woman🤢🤮

username y'all in the comments ugly as fuck, as if charles would fuck you even if you threw yourself at him😒

username the matchings shoes arghhhh!!😍

username how come you never let raphael spend some time with charles?

carlossainz55 posted a story

comments

username the silhouette looking a bit too familiar...

username who is she??

username carlos come home, the kids miss you😭😭

username i will block you fr

username alexa play happier by olivia rodrigo

username shirtless pics or it didn't happen

username are you in majorca?

liked by 508,495 others

SHOWBUZZF1 The Sainz family are pictured in what looks to be, a merry family get together with a surprise addition to their group, Y/n Y/l/n. The italian heiress appeared to be in cahoots with the Sainz clan, and even more so with Carlos Jr. It is unsure wether the pair are formally seeing eachother, as both parties declined to comment on the issue.

username WHAT IN THE FUCKING HOMIE HOPPER LORE IS THIS

username carlos, look at me, this isn't you!!!

username probably just a means to have stronger backing in italy

username carlos she's a W H O R E😭😭😭

username time to delete instagram

ussrname i fucking hate all of you, y'all was hating on her for no reason, now she's giving us all a reason

username hooking up with charles AND carlos in the same life time???!! i aint even mad girly😮‍💨😮‍💨

username SHUT UP NO THEY'RE NOTHING

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username you ugly whores made this happen😭 if y'all wasn't taking your insecurities out on the poor girl🙃🙃

username he's the father that stepped up🗣️🗣️🗣️

username so carlos is a daddy??? wbk

username what is with rbr boys and why do they keep taking other people's women🤭

username it's the sebastian vettel way of life

username wait did he also steal other people's girl?

username no, i was just talking about not giving two fucks😂

yourusername posted a story

comments

username she makes me so mad for no reason omf

username stay away from carlos!!

username keep being mad, she clearly does not care😂😂

username are you fr seeing carlos??

username raphael is watching cars😍

username you're a disgusting attention seeking fame f*cker

username is that carlos?? are you with him??

[merlinssassybeard]

'Ex' husband Gojo - You and I

Part 1

Tags- Gojo x fem reader, angst, self depreciation/suicidal stuff, miscarriage centered chapter

Synopsis- a look at both of their POVs, the aftermath a month later.

Satoru is devastated but so are you but worse...

22nd October, 2016...

22nd October of 2016 was when it happened. The Legal Separation between you and Satoru Gojo.

Fortunately or not but the whole fiasco never went outside the borders of The Gojo Estate, despite it involving a few 'third parties'.

Luckily, the servants of the house were on a week off or else by now you and Satoru would have become the new gossip of the town no doubt.

Mr Ijichi, an assistant director at the Jujutsu High and a very close and trusted accomplice of your husband... or ex husband, you can't decide.

He is probably the only person who knows about it, not in detail of course since Satoru is very specific on who he wants to be close with but yes, you suspect Mr Ijichi is a bit aware of what went down because he was the one driving the car on that day.

You also suspected at first that maybe Ms Shoko is also in light of the events because she is definitely someone who gets her information one way or the other and the fact Satoru might have... no! He has infact told Shoko about all of it.

When Satoru introduced you to the World of Jujutsu Society, Ms Shoko was the first he got you to meet with and since you have had good relationship with her.

Since your legal separation happened, Shoko and Ijichi have been a mediator, set up by Gojo, for communication since, you know it and so does everybody who knows Gojo Satoru, he's too prideful to go back wagging his tail where he's not needed. Or so he thinks.

Satoru thinks because of his work schedules, he is not able to spend time with you as your husband and not able give you the life you hoped for which definitely affected your mental health (as predicted by his six eyes) and thus you decided for a divorce.

But the new information that he got on that day from you made him realize maybe he was indeed wrong thinking that you are perhaps different from other women who only fell for the looks but mostly for the money and the status of the Gojo family in general.

He never had plans to marry in the Jujutsu Society or The human World (haha as if!) be it arranged or love. He did not care. He had plans to become the wise Sage or a Monk of wisdom, a teacher/mentor like in video games. But all of it changed when he met you, a simple average human.

You were the one who taught Satoru so much. You were the one made him realize that even the strongest sorcerer has a soft heart that has the capability of falling in love.

But what made him solidify his love, making him realize that yes he has fallen in love and he is glad it is you was when you (unknowing about his past with the incident with Riko and Toji) made him realize the fact that all humans are not same.

This was the last and final straw that made the fall for you really bad and sick. He wanted to marry you. But he never said it out loud because of the repercussions you would have to go through and that is why he protested as well when you brought up the topic of marriage.

But none of it matters

None of it

Not anymore

He is done

All humans are the same.

Greed

Lust

Money

Fame

Power

All humans are indeed the same...

Satoru has no interest in any sort of relationships anymore. Everything feels sour and bitter. All he knows now is his role. His role as the strongest sorcerer, a responsible mentor, as the Head of his Clan, Face of the Jujutsu Society altogether. These are his priorities.

Gojo would very much prefer a permanent sort of freedom from you now knowing your true face.

'Ugh awful, so disgusting. A whore? Really? Is that all you thought of yourself y/n when you voluntarily got physical with me before marriage?', he said to himself in his head.

The only reason Gojo sent Separation papers instead of divorce was because it would startle both of yours and his families. The society isn't kind to divorced women and that too the ex wife of the six eyes sorcerer. Oh what a wonderful way to make him vulnerable for the curses and curse users!

He can say whatever he want against you but somewhere, inside that beautiful big and kind heart of his, he wants to talk to you, talk things out, talk about your feelings and wants to listen. But his mind refuses to let down his walls, ever gain!

Days following the 22nd October, you mostly stayed locked up in your room while Mr Ijichi packed all of your husband's clothing and accessories.

Mr Ijichi isn't stupid, he knew it must be really hard for you that is why he tried his best to enter, collect the things and exit as quietly as he could.

'A whore? Why did you even say that you bitch. You really don't deserve ANYTHING in this world!', your days began with endless self loathing.

5th December, 2016

A lot happened in the month following the incident.

Most of your days were spent in self loathing because after your miscarriage at just 3 months, the doctor had declared that you're (uterus) not strong enough to carry a child.

These words are something a woman is most scared to ever hear in her life. And you were one of the unfortunates.

You had stopped taking your post miscarriage medications. You're mental health got worse as well due to continuous thoughts on how you acted up on impulses and ruined the only good thing you had. Days followed you couldn't even get the strength to get up from the bed every morning. Fading appetite lead to refusing food which further resulted to visible sunken cheeks.

The house staff didn't knew anything that took place during their week off and they had noticed changes around the household. From your behavior to the absence of the Head of the house. They were also worried for your health and didn't knew what to do.

The head of staff, Mr Kawaguchi, decided to make a call to the Master of the house since it is normal for him to be absent from the house due to his work.

Kawaguchi- Good morning Satoru sama. This is Kawaguchi from the house.

Gojo (a little annoyed)- I'm busy, call me later.

Kawaguchi- Sir actually there's a grave problem at the house.

Gojo (mockingly)- what? Did someone die or something? This better be important-

Kawaguchi- sir its Y/n sama. Y/n sama is not in good health.

Gojo (worried)- w- what?! What're you stupids doing? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? What did the doctors say?

Kawaguchi- uh about that sir... y/n sama didn't let us into her room and actually we had to... (nervously looks back at the the other staff, everyone nods)

Gojo- huh?

Kawaguchi- sir, we had to break into y/n sama's room. We have called the doctors and they'll-

Gojo- break into the room!? What is hap- Nevermind, I'm sending someone. You lot stay there and look after y/n till the docs arrive!

Kawaguchi- y- yes sir!

Gojo was now left worried at what the hell did he just hear on the call. 'What are you upto now y/n'. Is this some trick to bring him back out of pity and pretend nothing happened? That you, a month ago, didn't just randomly demand for a Divorce.

He was really annoyed and even if he wanted to go to the house he couldn't due to being out abroad for missions. He has been busy with overseas missions mostly after the separation.

He decided to send Shoko for a look and to inform him 'EVERY SINGLE DETAIL', verbatim.

Shoko was sitting at the morgue, smoking, when she received a call from Gojo.

'Ha? Gojo? At this hour?', she wondered.

"Yea?", Shoko said with her usual nonchalant voice.

"I need a favor"

Gojo explained her the situation to which she agreed without hesitant, knowing what has been going on between you two and now this.

When she arrived at the Gojo Estate, she was welcomed by the worried faces of the staff that guided her to your room.

She started observing every detail. She saw the entrance door, broken. The inside of the master bedroom, dim, even with long sliding doors facing the beautiful and bright gardens. There were half eaten bowls of food. A trolley with clothes overflowing.

Shoko turned to looked at you and felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of you. She was horrified and worried. She is usually a very calm and relaxed person but you, you really made her loose her calm.

She knows you and has seen you in your good days. In light yellow summer dress beside Gojo, all smiles to now? Like this. Dark circles umder eyes and slight sunken cheeks, chipped lips and several medications.... wait what medications?

There were already a doctor present in the room who declared that its just dehydration and that it'll be okay with a few medicines.

The servants thanked the doctor and ordered the medicines.

Meanwhile, Shoko was already in a shock. The medicines piled up beside you on the bed and the bedside table were... post miscarriage pills. She enquired the whole situation from the staff.

All while, the two women staff got you up in the bed and gave you water.

Eyes half open, you recognised what was happening. You passed out of dehydration and couldn't hear the knocks of the servants outside for breakfast. They were worried and tried the other doors, through the garden, but they were locked. So they broke the entrance and found still in the bed with pills surrounding you. They all got worried and one called the doctor and the head called Gojo.

Shoko noticed you were up and ordered the ladies to open the curtains and windows and leave her for a while. Afterall she's got some questioning to do in Gojo's behalf.

She extended her hand to hold your left hand. It seemed cold to touch. "Hello y/n. Remember me?"

You struggled to open your eyes and look.

"Don't worry i won't ask you how you're doing", she joked.

"But i will ask about the medications y/n. Do not lie. I'm a doctor too", Shoko knew now is not the time but she also knew that if you were pregnant then why didn't you tell Gojo because he obviously didn't know.

Your ears started ringing. And eyes welled up. You were reminded of it again. You wanted to just lay back down and bury yourself in the warmth of the blankets.

But the cat was out of the bag. Shoko is a doctor. She knows medicines. You cannot lie. You cannot hide. You have to be strong, you have to show her that everything is okay and Satoru needn't be worried, not like as if he is anyway.

"Please.", you mumbled, she had leaned in and caressed your knuckles. "Shoko, do not let anyone know of this, i beg of you."

"Shhh", she shushed you, "Don't say that. I won't. I promise"

She continued, "... but what about Satoru? You can't hide it from him. The child was his as much as it was yours-"

You cut her in, "Shoko i wanted to tell him! I wanted him and only HIM to be the first to get the news of the...", you struggled but continued, "...of the pregnancy. I got to know myself in the 2nd month and he was coming back home just next month, it was all perfectly going... until it wasn't".

Shoko was visibly upset. She didn't knew what to say. All she was aware of was the things Gojo told her...

He went home with gifts and souvenirs for you, you gave him divorce papers, he tried convince you not to, you weren't ready to listen, you said some hurtful things, he realised his place and agreed for separation over divorce.

Looking at you she can tell you would breakdown any moment.

And she was right.

You did.

You broke down in tears.

Hyperventilating you mumbled, "Shoko they said i can't have children! Can you believe that! I can't have kids! And I'm so stupid i brought out a f-fucking Divorce paper when Satoru came home."

"He was so angry with me i could feel it even if he wasn't! I'm stuck Shoko! I-i just - just want to go hide under a rock or maybe i should just kill mys-"

Shoko pulled you in for a hug. "Ah! Thats enough. That's enough. Shush now. Its okay."

"I won't tell Satoru, don't worry"

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[madwomansapologist]

living as shan yu's prisioner/bride would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: After the initial fear and distrust, you undertood that you only had one choice: adapt. And, going against everything you knew about yourself and the world, you discovered that it weren't that hard. That Shan Yu wasn't that horrible.

warnings: female!reader. shan yu (that's my wife. yeah, i decided that 30 seconds after meeting her. she's my soulmate, idiot) x reader (slow down, big boy, i have standarts. oh. you gave me a horse. you're kinda of reaching them). mentruation because i'm a whore for domesticity in moments of vulnerability. violence. not that dark. it's kinda about the first steps of falling in love when your logic says you're not supossed to. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

note: that happened right before the end of this. hope y'all like it!

• You felt guilty. So dirty. How could you feel that way about it? But it didn't matter how many times you told yourself that you shouldn't feel that way, you did it anyway. A heart feels whatever it wants. And yours feel free.

• That's something special about feeling the air against your body, the speed of your horse, the world moving on with you. Not despise you, not without, but with you. And it felt so good. Like it was supossed to be that way.

• When Shan Yu gave you a sorrel, he knew you wouldn't try to run away. Quickly after meeting him you knew you couldn't. It would be impossible for you to escape the Huns. And even if you did: then what would you do? Who would be able to help you? You knew that you couldn't, but Shan Yu also didn't gave you a reason to try.

• Yes, he kidnapped you. That is reason enough for you to at least try. But Shan Yu said he would make you his Empress. Endless times. He talked about how you'll reign beside him. You have classes about war, history, economy. The other Huns treat you like you had spend your lifetime with them. He'll make you his Empress. If he win the war, of course. And he promissed that you'll see your family again after the war.

• Shan Yu made clear that he wants your heart. He won't touch you, not without your consent first, but you're his bride. He made sure everyone knew that. You're his. His bride, his future wife, his mate. You don't know how anyone could fall in love that quickly. You believe him, Shan Yu have no reason to lie, you just don't get it. It may be that easy to him, but it isn't for you.

• You would never chose to be close to him if things were normal. The leader of the Hun army, an enemy of the Emperor, his fame precedes him. But things aren't normal, are they? You don't love Shan Yu, but you certainly don't hate him. And sometimes you think that he would be nice as a friend. Someone that would be easy to be around.

You were freaking out. You woke up in pain, and it took you a second to figure out what was that warm feeling in between your tights. Tears were rolling down your face when Shan Yu suddenly moved on his bed.

"Are you hurt?" You don't know how he did it that quickly, but when you looked at him Shan Yu had his sword on his hand. That man was ready to kill someone. The moonlit made it easy for you to see him, which means he could also see you. That made you feel so embarrassed. "Why are you crying?"

"Look away!" You shouted. Shan Yu almost did as you demanded, but he couldn't just ignore your tears. You tried to grab the bed sheets, but your sleep weaked your movements. "Just go back to your bed and leave me alone."

Shan Yu approached, and then he understood. He's experienced in the battlefield. Shan Yu would be able to recognized blood even if blind. "I will prepare a bath for you. It will help cease the pain."

"Stop", you could feel your body getting so warm. "Just leave me alone. I'm embarrassed enough."

Shan Yu sighed. "Embarrassed of what?" You pointed to the sheets. "Do you think that's the first time I see blood? Are you afraid I will faint?"

That made you chuckle. "No."

"I will prepare a bath for you." Shan Yu walked towards the bathroom. "Just sit down and wait."

That's what you did.

• Shan Yu isn't violent. Not to you. You fought his men, screamed at him, called him a liar: he never reacted. And he can be somehow kind when he wants to. You can sense that he's always checking if everything is okay with you. And he can be fun. In a weird, little bit off, kinda of way.

• Like how Shan Yu knows when he's better than someone and just let them dig their own graves. It isn't him being patient, coward or anything else: this is Shan Yu having fun. He likes the chase. You heard countless people calling him a monster, but you disagree. He's a predator.

• Fun. In a way that you don't really understand. And you would never say this out loud, not even under torture, but you feel that life would be easier with him. Or at least it wouldn't be the worst thing ever to stay beside him.

• Shan Yu isn't violent, has a good sense of humor, somehow respects you. Money would never be a problem. Even during a war, Shan Yu gave you clothes to fill countless wardrobes. And with him you're safe. You knew his fame, and now you know it fits him.

• It's nice to not worry about marriage. There is no family talking about how you should've already married to someone. There is no such a thing as spending sleepless nights thinking about what would happen to you if your father die before you can find someone. You don't worry about this anymore.

• So, yeah, somehow you enjoy that situation. Not love, and you certainly didn't dream with having that type of life, but you found yourself enjoying your time with the Huns. Your time with Shan Yu.

"You know that you don't need to run everytime, do you?" Shan Yu asked, scaring you. You didn't expect him to be behind you. You didn't even heard him approaching. Before looking at his direction, you could see that constant smirk on his face. "Horses are able to trot."

As usual, when you got the chance you ran with your sorrel, you did it. Feeling the air against you, a type of freedom you never experienced before. Exhausted, you waited for them to reach you.

For him to reach you.

Shan Yu grabbed your sorrel's rein, guiding him. You let him do it. Your body was already tired. Unlike him, you're not accustomed to ride for so long. And you could go to your carriage, Shan Yu wouldn't said no to you, but you know why he gave you that sorrel.

Before his gift, he led the army mounted on his horse while you stayed inside the carriage. Now, you can ride with him if you want to.

"Maybe I'm trying to runaway," if you know him well enough to understand the way his humor works, then he better understand yours. "Smarten up, big boy."

But you think there is another reason for that present. A thing that you noticed a while ago. The way he lighten up when someone mentions that you can fight. Or when you share your opinion, regardless if it's what he wants to hear. Shan Yu likes to see you fearless. He likes when you talk back. When you make sure everyone heard what you have to say.

"It's a joke," you told him. "I'm not planning on running away."

"Why?" Shan Yu said so calmly, but you could hear it was a honest doubt.

You also thought about it before. Why didn't you run away? Okay, using your logic you understood it wouldn't work out, but somethings aren't about logic. Humans don't usually do things only because of logic. Why your emotions didn't made you try everything you could? Why didn't you at least tried to runaway from him?

"I hope to never see a matchmaker again."

That made Shan Tu buffaw. "Alright," he nodded with his head. "It's a promise: you'll never see a matchmaker again in your life."

"Watch out," you smiled at him. "I may fall for your pretty promises."

"I'm counting on it."

• Things weren't perfect. Of course they weren't. But that feast was the last straw. There are some lines Shan Yu can't cross without you reacting. There are things that not even your logic can ignore. Things that made your heart decide to act. And of course it included him being violent. You should've know.

• All night long, you could feel his eyes on you. Those yellow eyes, following your steps like if you were a prey, would never go unnotice by you. Not even the loud music of the feast, the amounts of alcohol you drank, the way your feet were already aching because you danced for so long: you could feel Shan Yu watching you.

• You know he wants to join you. To dance with you, to hold you, to have you. You know that. But Shan Yu promised he would only touch you after you decided that you want him to do it. And you didn't say anything. You didn't try anything. You did not gave him permission, so he only watchs.

• At some moment, when it was already midnight, you fell. It wasn't anything important. It didn't hurt you. It was more embarrassing than anything else, but you were drunk enough to not care about it.

• Someone helped you getting on your feet again. Just a kind hand for you to hold on until you were sure you wouldn't fall again. For a second, you forgot about his eyes on you. You just hugged whoever helped you in a way to show your drunkness gratitude. And that was when Shan Yu made sure everyone knew he was still there.

• Shan Yu is quickly. Your mind, lacking sobriety, almost didn't record him moving towards you. You just noticed what was happening when Shan Yu hold the man by his throat, pulling him away from the floor. You knew he was scary, dangerous, cruel. You knew that. But you never saw it. You never saw how his eyes can burn others. You knew who Shan Yu was, but you never saw it.

• The poor man were turning blue on his head, barely able to struggle against the strong hold on his neck, trying to say something. Trying to say he was sorry. You were frozen in place, almost convincing yourself that it was all a nightmare, until Shan Yu dropped the man on the floor. He coughed, trying to breath again while thanking Shan Yu.

Shan Yu looked at every single person on the feast. Every single one. "No one touch what's mine."

Shan Yu wasn't only punishing him, but teaching everyone around him a lesson. And you can't deny, he was a great teacher. Everyone seem to understand. Everyone seem scared enough to never go against him.

But when Shan Yu looked at you, he didn't saw your usual challeging gaze. He didn't saw joy, or tiredness, or surprise. He didn't saw fear. When Shan Yu looked into your eyes, all he saw was disgust.

Your gaze alone made something itch inside him. But your words cut his soul in places he didn't even knew existed.

"You will never touch me," you whispered, only for him to hear. "I will never love you back. Hurt whoever you want, hurt me if you desire, you will never have me."

You told Shan Yu to smarten up. At the time it was only a joke. But now, after seeing how cruel he can be and hearing what he had to say, you changed your mind. Your heart feel smaller. You won't stay here for long.

Without giving him a chance to reply, you turned your back on him and walked towards your carriage. You stood there until you were sure no one had followed you. You put on your boots, grabbed a bag with food and water, and went to the stable.

You were lucky. Everyone was at the feast, which means no one was there to see you riding your sorrel. Which means no one was there to see you running away. Which means your carriage was empty when Shan Yu went there looking for you.

You knew the path you need to follow. Your could hear the river, you saw the birds flying north, all you need to do was to be faster than the Huns. And you're almost sure that they're all drunk.

At some point, maybe twenty minutes after you exit the stable, you heard another horse. You couldn't see it, but you knew it was Shan Yu. That scared you, made you shiver, but you didn't stop. You just went faster and faster.

Shan Yu is strong, but he's too strong. His horse wouldn't be able to compete with your sorrel. He can try, but you know for sure that your sorrel needs to worry about less weight.

He was close. But not close enough.

You don't know for how long you tried to make him struggle, but at some point it started raining. It was harder to see the path, you were shivering, and the ground turned muddy. You tried, you really tried, but nothing can control a horse's response to thunders.

You almost fell when he jumped, your hands burned holding the rein. You weren't so lucky the next time. When you collapsed on the floor, you felt like all the air in your lungs had imploded. You tried to move, the rain falling on your face kept you awake, but you couldn't stand. It burned.

And that gave Shan Yu exactly what he needed: time.

When another thunder came, you rolled to the side so your sorrel wouldn't step on you. You crawled on the ground, holding your head as if it would fall from your neck, and struggle to stand up. It hurts, it burns, but you're stronger. It felt like it was impossible, but you stand where once you fell.

It was hard to control your tears, and even harder to deal with the pain on your chest. You tried to hold your sorrel by its head, but he was so scared. You didn't stop trying to calm him down, but then you heard.

Shan Yu reached you. There he is, so close and yet so far away. Riding his own scared horse, rain dripping on his skin and marking his clothes. He wasn't wearing his usual fur. No. Shan Yu was still using the clothes for the feast.

That made you think less of him. You prepared. You have food, water, maps. And he just took a horse and went to search for you? Why would he act so unprepared?

With thunders ecchoing on your ears and pain spreading along your chest, the right answer didn't even passes through your head. Why Shan Yu was unprepared to the cold, to the rain, to the chase: because he was scared. He was scared that one second he wasted not looking for you would be the second that would separe you both forever. Because Shan Yu was scared. So scared.

"I won't stop trying," you shouted at him. It was so dificult to find strenght to say things, but you did it anyway. Screw it. Don't matter what he does, you will keep trying to flee away from him.

"Don't be stupid." Shan Yu jumped from the horse. You could hear the tiredness on his voice. He also sttrugled with his breath. "Are you trying to kill yourself? What would you do? Keep riding in the rain, waiting until the cold took your body?"

"I would rather die than live as your object!" You tried to mount your horse again, but he keep moving away from you. He was so scared. You caressed his fur, trying to make him stop. "For once, be honest with yourself. Face the truth. You don't love me. You won't have a happily ever after with me like in a old fairytail. I'm just someone you saw naked once. I'm not a person for you. I'm something that only you can consume."

Shan Yu walked towards you, but you moved away. He was trying so hard to be calm. All he wanted to do was took you on his arms, put you on his shoulder and walk you home. Home. There you could scream for how long you wanted. You could speak, he would hear, and things will change. He sighed. "That's not the truth and you know that."

"Do I? Because that is all I know. You saw me naked and now you do anything you can to make me let you fuck me. A person touch me and you almost killed him! Why won't you get over it? Find someone else!"

Then Shan Yu realized that no, you didn't know. You really didn't understand? How could you? He said to you so many times. Shan Yu made sure that you would see it, but you didn't. "I love you," Shan Yu didn't know what else could make you understand that. "I won't find someone else, because you are the one. We are meant to be. This isn't about your body. This isn't about your touch. All I do is to make you see it. To make you want to be mine."

You just glared at him, trying to understand what your mind wanted. Trying to understand him. "But why? Why do you feel this way about me?"

"Because you're like me."

"No. I'm not," you didn't move this time when he stepped closer. "I'm nothing like you."

"You want more of life," Shan Yu stood right in front of you. "You don't want to go back to a dead village, to go through the same day again and again, to no be remembered. I know you want more. You want to see the world. You want to feel free. It's your time to be honest with yourself. Face the truth. You want more."

Shan Yu wanted you to agree. He wanted you to say he was right, that you want more, that you want him. But he thought you would scream at him, push him away, declare your hate for him. He didn't imagined you would cry.

"I don't," Shan Yu stopped. He didn't knew what to say. He didn't want you to cry. He didn't want you to react this way. "Please, don't cry. Everything will be alright."

"I'm tired," you whispered. "Im in pain, I'm scared, and I don't know what I want. I don't know what to do."

"You're hurt?"

You nodded. "I fell."

Shan Yu sighed. How he wanted to just touch you. Hold you in his arms. Clean the trace of tears on your face. See where you hurted yourself. "We will come back to our carriage, we'll eat and rest. And when you're fine, you can decide If you go back home."

It was so dumb. So stupid. You could help but laugh, almost forgeting the tears. "And you would let me go if I want to?"

"I want to feel your love, not to see your disgust." Shan Yu sighed. "If you want to go, you can. But when i defeat the Emperor, when China became mine, I'll come back to you. And then I'll ask you once more if you want to be mine."

"You promise?" You didn't knew what to think about this.

"I do," Shan Yu answered. "Sadly, I do."

• That was the first night of a thunderstorm that lasted days. That was the first night of a thunderstorm that would make Shan Yu fall. That was the first night of a thunderstorm that would change your mind.

Next Part!

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[maxibroke]

ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ― underneath red lights ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ― fem sex worker yn x rich ceo seo changbin ᴇxᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ― 2.3k ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs― sex work, degradation, praise, public sex, blowjobs, infidelity, religious metaphors, religious mentions.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ―

Seo Changbin has it all - money, fame and a beautiful girlfriend. So why has he gone every Friday to the red district and paid the same hooker thousands for her to suck his dick for the past four years?

+18 MDNI. Procced with caution.

Seo Changbin is a man of many wonders. rich, handsome and incredibly lucky to still be found around even when he walks the shit covered streets of the red district to see his favorite girl.

If anyone asked, he would deny it, say that they confused him with someone else because it wouldn't make sense. Why would Changbin risk his reputation for a 20 cent whore? Why would he throw away all those years he's spent with his equally influential girlfriend for a cheap fuck? Why would he try to ruin his family name by being in a lawless zone?

He'd say it with practiced confusion in his eyes, concern and offense in his tone of voice ultimately convincing them that they were wrong and apologize to him for making such horrendous assumptions. Later, at night, he would take out a large wad of cash, tuck it within the inside of his blazer and call Yuna, saying he would be home late if at all. He will pull his car out of his company's parking garage and park it on the empty street, walking until he made it outside a neon red light hanging above a door and walking in after a nod from the bouncer.

The first time he had walked into 'District 9' was four years ago - before meeting Yuna, before becoming the CEO of his fathers company and before becoming one of the top 5 most sought out millionaire. He had come in with his friends for Jisung's bachelor party, half drunk and bitching about wanting to have fun.

It was in these glitter covered floors, red lights tinting the entire stage and obscuring patrons from onlookers, that Changbin discovered heaven and hell. Just like now, he had walked in without fear, why would he? There never is fear in sin.

The sole of his expensive dress shoes will be covered in glitter and he would have to send them to get cleaned to not raise suspicions. The poles on the stage glisten under the red lights before a song rings through the speakers with purpose. He finds Nico, the pimp, and gives him three large bills from the large stack without a word. He's been here enough times for Nico to know and walks towards the center, seating himself perfectly in the middle before watching his curse prowl out from behind the curtains.

She had bewitched him four years ago - while his friends had whistled and hollered at her, Changbin had been dead silent. She hasn't aged at all since that day, if anything has changed its her hair that is slightly shorter now but otherwise nothing, almost like as if these walls provide immortalization for those that work here.

The bass thumps harshly against the speaker, providing vibrations through the walls and the floor, matching his pulse as she comes closer to the edge of the stage. There's patrons inside, but they all look busy with other girls and, if he's honest? He prefers to have her attention on him and only him.

Red color and shines on her sweaty skin, hours of work already marking her face with exhaustion, a slight limp that only he sees because he knows her too well and knows the high heels are killing her feet, her hair brilliant red with shadows and her chest bouncing with every step. She's careful even through her exhaustion, to not let them spill out of the flimsy top that barely covers anything, only her nipples and the sides of the thong are settled high on her hips, both shimmery like the glitter underneath his foot.

She looks like a repented sinner, making her way down the aisle to ask God for forgiveness of all her sins.

Then she lifts her head and captures his gaze, a smirk filled with devilish intent as she grabs onto the pole and grinds her pelvis against it, the curve of her ass enticing him to come closer to touch. Its a game at this point for the both of them, Changbin sits in his chair watching her dance while she moves on the stage, enticing him with her body and looks, making him yearn for her soft skin underneath the palm of his hand.

Its a game that he should win, that his pastor begs every Sunday for him and his followers to win. Sin is death, it will infest and contaminate your body until there is nothing left for God to take. Changbin wishes he could follow like everyone else, but when she looks at him over her shoulder in a sultry gaze and ass on full display, how is he supposed to refuse?

He lets her have her fun for a while longer, shifting in his seat and feeling the zipper of his slacks dig into his hard length. She does a marvelous job on pulling her body up the pole, watching enchanted of the strength she has from all her years of work.

When the song ends, she cocks her hip and head to the side, a cute smile on her lips completely different from before and waits for his signal. She had already been somewhat trained when he first met her - but he finished her training and has her molded to his likes.

He tilts his head slightly to the side and lets the corner of his lips twitch before patting the inside of his thigh. She starts moving towards him at the third pat and slips off her heels as she makes her way down the stairs of the stage, leaving them to the side to pick them up when she's done since this is, he, is her last client.

Her walk is tantalizing and never fails to draw him in - she kneels in front of him, between his opened thighs and smiles up at him. He draws his right hand and cups her cheek, feeling his heart flutter as she nuzzles against it and leans her body against his leg fully trusting him.

His left hand is reaching for his zipper, unbuttoning his slacks and lowering his boxers to pull his hard length from its confinements. He holds it from the base and uses his right hand to move her head closer to his crotch. She doesn't even open her eyes nor leans away from the hand on her cheek as she opens her mouth and lets Changbin move her head to slide himself inside.

He sighs in relief, letting himself sit on top of her tongue and bask in the wet heat of her. She doesn't move, she knows that he likes it when he's cock warmed for a little before fucking her mouth, instead she comes closer until her nose is pressed against his curls and exhales through her nose, further relaxing her jaw for him.

It feels like its been an eternity since he last felt her around him - his chest warm and gooey with relief at being able to feel her tongue shift against his length, her pretty hands lightly placed on his thighs and her hair in his hands to remind her to stay still. He moves his left hand down and lays it above her own; her skin is soft and warm underneath his palm and she looks at him questioning. Its perverted, the way she can make herself look so innocent when her lips are stretched around his thick cock.

He pats her hand and shifts his hips deeper into her mouth, the sign.

She lets him guide her head off slowly, suctioning her lips in a tight circle for him as if she was trying to suck the soul out of him until she at the tip of his cock.

She lets him guide her head off slowly, suctioning her lips in a tight circle for him as if she was trying to suck the soul out of him until she at the tip of his cock to let her suck on it before pulling her off completely with a pop, hair wrapped around his fingers as he forces her to keep her eyes on him.

"Ready, baby girl?"

Chris smiles beautifully at him, flashing her cute dimples again before saying a soft 'yes' and opening her mouth for him. He's never needed more than that when he's with her.

Even though Chris has opened her mouth as big as she can, it is always a tight fit for him - sucking him in without warning or care and he's loved it since day one. Her plush lips wrap around his girth, moaning as he pushes her head further down until her nose hits his pelvis. He pants as she tries her best to wrap her tongue and massage the vein popping on the left side of his cock, eyes closed in concentration. He repeats the motion as before but he doesn't let her pop off his cock this time, instead moving her back down to swallow him whole. She doesn't gag on him, she never does when it's this slow of a pace - but in a few minutes she will have tears in her eyes and a mixture of spit and precum dripping down her chin onto her beautiful chest.

 For now he enjoys the slow drag of her mouth's walls and she sucks him deep, so accustomed to him that he can’t help but let himself imagine. In his head, she’s on her knees just like right now, but instead she’s wearing the finest of gold. Dainty necklaces adorn her neck, diamond earrings dangle from her lobes and cuff gold earrings decorate her helix ones. Gold rings with rubies and emeralds and fire opals decorate her lovely fingers, charm bracelets custom made just for her jingle with every movement of her dainty wrists as she holds his hands while he thrusts into her wet heat - dark red lipstick staining his cock. She wears nothing more than that, kneeling on a custom made cushion so that her knees don’t bruise and shift them, rubbing them together, letting him know just how desperate she is to have him inside of her pretty cunt.

He imagines that she’s just as tight and warm and inviting as her mouth. Sweet moans spilling from her pretty pink plush lips, begging for more. She’d mold herself into his shape and form, tightening around his cock and sucking him inside, holding her hands as he leans down and kisses her -

She brings him out of his fantasy humming around his cock and making it jump against her tongue. She giggles at the feeling, her eyes wide open with mirth and he sees the challenge in her eyes. He smirks down at her before tightening his hold on her curls, tips her head slightly backwards and thrusts into her mouth, making her groan. He picks up his speed, thrusting harder and faster, her hands gripping onto his slacks to hold herself stable. He watches fascinated as she finally chokes and gurgles around his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of her mouth as tears begin to cascade down her cheeks, mascara running and ruining her pretty make-up she did for him.

He feels himself pushing towards the edge, and when she opens her red rimmed eyes and an impossibly clear smirk even with her lips occupied, he pulls her off of him harshly, replacing her glorious mouth with his hand as he brings himself to completion. She already knows what she has to do: she sinks lower and pushes her chest forward, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue letting the head of his cock bump into it until he peaks.

He cums like an explosion, white streaks decorating her lovely tongue as she accepts everything he has to offer before he closes his eyes to white pleasure. His hand is replaced quickly for her own soft one, working him through his powerful orgasm until he twitches in her grasp from over stimulation. When he opens his eyes, finally, its to see her meticulously tuck him back into his boxers, buttons and zips up his slacks.

She sits there for a minute, watching him come down from his own Heaven and he thinks she's cute waiting for him like this every time.

He wishes this could last forever, but it doesn't. It never does, it never can. She notices when his demeanor has changed and pushes herself off the floor with his thighs. He sighs deeply, as he follows suit and produces the wad of cash out of his inner blazer pocket and hands it to her. Their fingers graze for just a second and he feels his skin light up in ways it never does with others, with Yuna.

"Same time next week?" She says, her voice angelic and sweet. He finally looks at her and feels his heart tear. Her eyes have always given away her inner thoughts and feelings - there's an emotion there right now, one he cannot name, one he shouldn't name but recognizes.

That same emotion reflects in her eyes from his own feelings, buried deep inside of his soul except for nights like these. Tomorrow he's going to wake up beside Yuna, dress in his Sunday clothes and drive them to church where they will sit with his parents and listen to the pastor say to repent from sin.

He wishes it where that easy, but it isn't when it looks like her.

He leans forward and presses a kiss on her forehead, sweet and filled with years of longing that he represses and she waits.

"Where else would I be if not here with you?"

[writingoddess1125]

Barefoot and Bruised

ALL ABOARD THE ANGST AND DEPRESSION TRAIN! TOOT TOOT MOTHERFUCKERS

Buggy + OOC/Reader

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Depression, Character Death, Saddness, Angst

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"You can't do this to me Captian!" You sobbed out, Rage in your eyes as you stared at who you thought was the love of your life. There standing on the tiny life boat with all your stuff that had been pulled from your quarters as the crew, once thought to be your family leered at you and cackled at your pathetic state.

You had been with Captian Buggy in what you had thought was a loving relationship. You gave him your heart, your body- and this is what he does to you... sees you experiencing what could only be morning sickness and has you thrown out like a stray.

Standing there still in his sleeping shorts that he had worn when he fell asleep next to you the night before.

"Oh? The Cabin Whore things she can tell me what to do?" He laughed, the crew joining in as you felt your skin burn with embrassment.

"Y-You were the only one I was with" You choked out, Buggy's eyes not meeting your own.

"And with how easy it was- Would be surprised if half the crew was with you at this point. A few nice words and you fell in a mattress like a slut" He sneered. Your heart shattered then and there- he had been the only man you gave yourself too.. and he called you a whore?-

"B-But it's yours!- you know this" You pleas, but the clown waves you off. Instead reaching into his pockets to pull out a necklace- payment for your services..

"Could be anyones- But I'm not heartless. This should suffice as payment" He said cruelly throwing the necklace.

You sobbed as the jewlery hit you and fell to the floor of the boat. Looking back up at Buggy as fat tears rolled down your face- His cocky persona staring back at you.

"P-Please- You'll kill us" You said softly, Buggy laughing at this as he waved you off.

"If it truly is mine then- It will live!" He said with a laugh, the crew also laughing at you as the boat was lowered into the ocean. You sitting in the tiny dingy and staring up at Red Top as you floated towards the islands that Buggy had chosen to abandon you at-

Your eyes locking onto him as he stared down at you- sailing away.

That imagine would haunt him for the rest of his days.. watching you sail off with that heart broken and shell-shocked look on your flushed face. Wearing the shirt he had worn the night before and nothing else-

Cruel heartless bastard.. That's the only thing he could call himself after that day.

His own ego had done this- His pride in wanting to be a famed heartless pirate had made him throw away the only person he loved. The only person who loved him. He had regretted his actions, knowing you couldn't have cheated on him nor were you a whore- but his own insecurities more willing to think you'd betrayed him rather then being the father of your child.

He had wanted to find you- searching the East Blue were he hand abandoned you, hoping to see your face and drag you back with him.

But for 6 years he had failed- Growing in his status as a Pirate but he hadn't cared for it... the alcohol no better then vinegar and the food like ash on his lips. The success wasn't worth it- Non of it could quench his hunger like you did..

So jovial men a hardened and angry mess- Willing to burn everything to the ground with a simple hope of feeling anything again that wasn't self-hatred.

It acted as a tradion of sorts for him- Buying something from a vendor as a token of what it once was- before burning the village to the ground and ripping away all its valuables... Wasn't like he wouldn't get his money back at the end of the day anyway-

Today was no different, having his crew stop on a random island on the East Blue. He always went first, going into the village to search for you and when he failed, buying some trinket to add to visual representation of his failures.

As he walked, the world no better then to be in Grayscale thinking of which place he will destroy first a flash of blue caught his eye, craning his head to follow it quickly.

Buggy stared at the starving child- A feeling of pain hitting his chest as he stared at the miserable little thing. Her feet cut up and bare red from exposure with tried blood on them, Her skin which reminded him so much of your own was dirty, ashy and covered in deep blue bruises that seemed to paint her whole form. Which was only being covered by what was once a dress and now a tattered patchy mess- A breeze most likely ready to rip it and leave her bare to the horrors of the world.

The Clown watching as the blue was matted hair, sticking up and dirty from lack of washing. Attacked to it, a equality dirty little girl digging through a trashcan in an alleyway and pulling out bread that even in his reasoning wouldn't be suitable for a bug to eat let alone a little girl.

"What are you looking at Mister?" The little girl said defensively snapping Buggy back to reality as he saw ger holding the bread like he was gonna take it from her- it would have been funny if she didn't look so damn awful.. he look in her feature, trying to track why they were so familiar to him. A twisted scowl that hung low on her rounded race, a normal nose buttoned and high however tinted red like she had a cold- But it was her eyes.. oh those sad little eyes that told him all he needed, Shaped just like yours but with his unique color. The mop of matted blue hair also cluing him in-

But he could see on her face, despite how thin, the perfect mix of you and him- it damn near took his breath away to see her. In most cases he would even call her the most beautiful being in this world..

How could you let them be on the street? Let them walk around half starved and beaten so terribly?

Stepping closer to the alleyway that she was standing in, he looked over to see only trash and a wooden box- which he assumed she'd been staying in. Confused and hurt at not seeing your face as well.

Was she by herself?

"Where is your mother kid?" He scoffed anger biting his tongue, staring at matching ocean eyes like his own. The little girl glaring up at him apprehensive of him rightly so, clearly his words hitting a nerve in her little body.

"Shes Dead-"

Her words knocking the wind from Buggy's lungs and his anger turned to himself once more...

"Oh.." blinking back what felt like tears in his eyes he glanced away for a few seconds. The burn of her words echoing in his brain as guilt began to fill his hallow heart.

"How?" He said a bit sharply, seeing the child's body language grow a bit hesitant and defensive as she took some steps back.

"She was robbed and murdered for her necklace" She said truthfully. Buggy staggering at hearing this- remembering the gold necklace he had tossed at you when he left you on that damn boat. He had ment for you to sell it.. why hadn't you sold it!? You could have lived- He could have apologized to you, grovel at your feet and begged for forgiveness!

The child continued to stare at him- clearly able to tell he was in his own mind. It took him a few seconds to recollect himself, meeting her eyes again as he kneeled down to be more eyelevel.

"What happened to her body?" He asked calmly.

"Why should I tell you?" She shot back, almost pulling a laugh from the man. She had his attitude it seemed.. poor thing-

"Fair enough-" He mused "You're a rough kid" He said calmly. Staring her down- part of him wanting to reach out and take her in his arms, cry into her dirty hair and beg for her to forgive him for leaving her and her mother.. Grovel before this begging child- However his fear of her running away was stronger. If he did that she could escape and would have to rip this village apart to find her.

"...H-How do you feel about working kid?" He said softly, his voice wavering at his own words. The way he eyes shined at hearing the opportunity for money reminded him of his own- hungry.

"Really?" She said loudly, Buggy reaching into his pockets and pulling out a 10000 beri note. Holding it out to her which she greedily took- the note looking massive in her tiny fingers. He could practically see her counting how much food she could get with the bill.

"There is more, If you agree to work on my ship as an apprentice" He said calmly, The little girl holding the note highly in her little fist and looked at his skeptical. "That and I feed my crew really well. We do circus shows too and wear whatever costumes we want" He pitched with his kindest and most performance voice, watching her eyes light up at the idea. A grin stretching across her face and he damn near wept- The same smile you had.

"I accept Mister!" She said loudly, Buggy giving a stiff nod and holding out the small bag he had been holding for her to carry- figuring she would be suspicious if he didnt have her do something for her new job. That and he would most likely give the trinket to her anyway- along with anything she could ever desire.

"Whats your name?" He asked, watching her proudly take the small bag to carry. As well as getting a better look at her arms- so thin he could see the joints of her elbows.

"Aoko" She said proudly, Buggy damn near rolled his eyes- 'Blue Child...very funny (Y/N)' He though, Standing back to his full height and waving her forward towards the pier.

"Alright. Aoko.. Let's head to your new home" He said calmly, watching her skip forward with the bag. Unaware of her Father staring right behind her, as tears rolled down his panted face finally.

[valkyriexo]

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 7 -Truth or Dare

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS : dirty talk, swearing, use of ' 'whore', 'Good girl' , 'Slut', unprotected P in V, teasing, fingering , oral ( f. receiving), begging, edging, Aftercare, Smut. SMUTTTY SMUT, minors do NOT interact. Smut is in between the -- if you wish to skip.

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 5.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; 1 more episodes left! Who's your guess?

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember, none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

The night had been restless, filled with uneasy dreams and fragmented thoughts. You woke with a start, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as you considered your options.

Chan was gone, that much was true. The dorm room felt emptier without his presence, the air tinged with the echoes of your heated argument from the night before. Staying here alone felt daunting, but the idea of returning home filled you with a different kind of dread.

Glancing at your phone, half-expecting a message from him, there was nothing. The silence between you was loud, laden with unresolved emotions. Sighing softly, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

The dorm was quiet, the usual sounds of morning routines absent. It was as if time had slowed down, allowing the weight of recent events to settle in. 

Deciding to freshen up, you made your way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face. The coolness was refreshing, a brief respite from the turmoil swirling inside you. Staring at your reflection, you wondered how everything had spiraled so quickly. The award, the mysterious gifts, the confessions, and the loss—all seemed like an overwhelming blur.

All the events were reminders that trust was a luxury you couldn't afford right now.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, you decided to head out, feeling slightly more composed. Standing in the doorway, hesitating before locking up, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. It was a message from Aera, your assistant, whose concern warmed your heart amidst the chaos.

"Hey, how are you doing? Do you need anything done today?" Her message read.

You smiled faintly at her concern, typing out a quick reply. "I'm okay. I will let you know if anything comes up."

Leaving the dorm behind, you stepped out into the crisp morning air, the city awakening around you. People hurried past, lost in their own worlds, unaware of the turmoil churning inside you. You walked aimlessly for a while, seeking solace in the familiar streets of Seoul.

Seungmin remained in the hospital, his condition stable but unconscious. 

As you walked through the bustling streets of Seoul, you found yourself drawn towards the hospital where he lay, a silent figure in a sterile room.

Arriving at the hospital, you navigated the familiar halls with a heavy heart. Nurses bustled about, doctors exchanged quiet words, and families sat in waiting rooms, their faces etched with concern. The atmosphere was one of subdued tension, a stark contrast to the vibrant city outside.

Finding Seungmin's room, you paused at the doorway, hesitating before stepping inside. His pale form lay still on the hospital bed, machines softly beeping in the background. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable and fragile, brought a lump to your throat.

Pulling up a chair beside his bed, you took his hand gently in yours. It felt warm, reassuring in its familiarity. Memories of happier times flooded your mind – his infectious laughter, his unwavering support during difficult moments, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"You're going to be okay," you whispered softly, more to reassure yourself than anything else.

As hours passed in the hospital room, you remained by Seungmin's side, lost in your thoughts. Aera's messages occasionally buzzed in your pocket, but you couldn't bring yourself to reply just yet.

The hospital had become a refuge of sorts, a place where time seemed suspended, allowing you to confront the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Lost in your contemplation, a familiar voice broke through the quiet. Minho, stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and reassurance.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside. "How are you holding up?"

You looked up, grateful for his presence but feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over you. Minho had always been a good friend, someone you could rely on, but the recent events had left everything feeling strained and uncertain.

"I... I don't know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Seungmin. "It's just... a lot."

Minho nodded understandingly, pulling up a chair beside you. His usually easygoing demeanor seemed tempered with a sense of solemnity, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

"Seungmin's doing okay. The doctors say he could be out soon," Minho offered, trying to provide some comfort.

"That's good to hear," you replied with a breath of relief, grateful for the positive update on Seungmin's condition.

After a moment of silence, Minho spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "I... heard about what happened between you and Chan."

Your breath caught in your throat, surprised. "You did?"

He nodded, briefly glancing at you before returning his gaze to Seungmin. "Yeah. He came to the hospital late last night. Looked like he hadn't slept."

Guilt washed over you, not knowing that your argument with Chan had affected him deeply. "I didn't mean for things to get so... heated."

Minho sighed softly, his expression sympathetic. "Chan... he cares about you a lot. Sometimes that passion can come out in ways that surprise us."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know. I just... I didn't handle it well."

"He'll come around," Minho reassured, his voice gentle. "Give him some time."

"I hope so.."

Minho nodded understandingly, standing up and stretching slightly after hours spent in the hospital room.

"We've been here a while," he said, glancing back at you. "Changbin will be here soon to replace me. I can take you home, if you're ready."

"Yeah," you replied gratefully, giving Seungmin a final glance. "I think I'm ready."

Minho nodded, standing up and stretching slightly. "Let me grab a few things, and we can head out."

As you both gathered your things and prepared to leave, Minho glanced back at Seungmin, his expression softening with empathy.

Together, you walked through the quiet halls of the hospital. The city seemed to hold its breath, the usual chaos muted.

As he drove you home, the atmosphere inside the car was tinged with a somber calm. The streetlights flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across his face as he focused on the road ahead. The silence between you was companionable, yet heavy.

As the silence lingered, your thoughts drifted to the unease of returning home alone. The recent events had left you feeling vulnerable, the safety of your own space compromised. The idea of installing security cameras had crossed your mind more than once, a desperate attempt to regain a sense of control.

Chan had taken the initiative to install security cameras for you the day he found out, a gesture that had should have eased the anxiety of being alone at home. His thoughtful act had provided a layer of reassurance during times when the presence of 'Stay' seemed to infiltrate even your most private moments.

"You sure you're going to be okay here on your own?" Minho asked softly, his voice filled the quiet space.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I have security cameras installed."

he glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Cameras?"

"Yeah," you continued, feeling a bit self-conscious. "With everything that's been happening... I just... I don't feel safe anymore."

He nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his expression. "I get that. But wouldn't that be a bit... paranoid?"

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. "Maybe. But... I don't know what else to do."

Lee Know sighed, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It's your call. Just... be careful not to let fear consume you."

You nodded, grateful for his honesty, even if it wasn't the encouragement you had hoped for. "I'll think about it."

As you arrived at your house, he pulled up to the curb, the engine humming softly. You hesitated before stepping out, silently thanking him before making your way into your house.

The days had passed in a haze of tension and uncertainty since your argument with Chan. Despite the passage of time, his absence weighed heavily on your heart, the echoes of his words and your own lingering in the quiet corners of your mind. Each day felt like a struggle to maintain normalcy, the absence of his presence a constant reminder of the rift between you.

Each night, you find yourself waking with a start, heart racing from nightmares that seem all too real. Normally, Chan would be there to comfort you, to reassure you that you're safe. But now, with him gone and no word of his whereabouts, you feel different.

Alone.

The days blur together, filled with a mix of worry for Seungmin, guilt over Chan, and the unsettling presence of 'Stay' lingering in the background. You've tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, focusing on work and keeping up appearances, but the fear of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, is ever-present.

One evening, as you sat alone in your living room, the soft glow of the security monitors casting flickering shadows on the walls, there came a hesitant knock at your door. Startled, you glanced at the clock

—late enough that unexpected visitors were unusual.

With cautious steps, you approached the door, heart racing with apprehension.

Opening it cautiously, you were met with Chan's familiar figure standing on your doorstep. His expression was a mix of apprehension, exhaustion, and remorse, his usual confidence replaced by vulnerability.

You stood there for a moment, stunned into silence as you processed the sight of Chan standing before you.

"Chan," you breathed, the name escaping your lips in a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly. You hesitated, unsure whether to let him in, but something in his eyes—perhaps a glimpse of the hurt you knew mirrored your own—changed your mind. Nodding silently, you stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

Chan stood awkwardly in the center of the room. You waited, arms folded defensively across your chest, unsure of what to expect.

"I'm sorry," he finally began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have left like that."

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of his words. "I don't blame you. But... I invaded Hyunjin's privacy."

Chan looked at you, his expression softening with understanding. "But you had your reasons. You felt unsafe. I can't be mad at you for that."

You nodded slowly, grateful for his understanding yet still grappling with the guilt of crossing that line. "I know, but it wasn't right."

"I know," Chan replied gently. "We all make mistakes, especially when we're scared."

"but I... I shouldn't have said those what I said to you." he continued. " I was... I was scared. Scared of losing you."

His admission took you aback, the raw honesty in his words catching you off guard. Despite your own hurt, you couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I was upset," you confessed softly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "When you left... it felt like you were abandoning me when I needed you the most."

Chan's expression softened further, regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the words heavy with remorse. "I never meant to make you feel that way."

You sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air between you. "I know you didn't... but it still hurt."

"I never meant to hurt you," he continued, his gaze pleading. "I just... I let my emotions get the better of me. And I know that's no excuse."

You watched him carefully, the walls around your heart beginning to soften in the face of his vulnerability. His apology was genuine, his regret palpable in the air between you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "But I want you to know... I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll give you space if you need it. I'll... I'll grovel if that's what it takes. I want to be here for you, no matter what."

He took a deep breath. "Can we... move past this?" he asked hesitantly, searching your eyes for reassurance.

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and determination etched in every line of his face. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the weight of your own conflicting feelings. The road ahead seemed daunting, filled with uncertainties and the scars of recent wounds. But in Chan's earnest plea, you found a glimmer of possibility—a chance to rebuild what had been fractured.

"I want to," you admitted softly, your voice trembling with both fear and longing.

Chan's eyes softened with relief, his own hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise. The air around you seemed to shift, charged and electric as you leaned in, hesitantly closing the gap between your lips.

The kiss was tender, tentative at first, a gentle exploration of shared forgiveness and connection. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if afraid to let go. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the both of you.

--

Chan's hands began to roam over your body, teasing and caressing you, pulling you even closer to him.

"God I love you so much." He said between kisses. You hands mad their wayt o his face, cupping his cheeks softly.

" Y/N.... I want you so bad," he growled.

 "Then take me," you replied, your lips never leaving his. "I'm all yours." 

Chan didn't need any further encouragement. He picked you up and carried you to your bed, kissing you all the way there as you straddled him, until he laid you down gently on the bed.

You removed your shirt and pants, laying before him in nothing but your cute red underwear, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Chan's eyes roamed over your body, a look of pure lust on his face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "God im so lucky."

You reached out and took off his shirt, eager to feel his muscular body against yours. He kissed you harder, more intensely, as his kisses slowly made his way down your neck and chest. 

His mouth found your nipple, and he began to suck and nibble on it. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased and teased you with his tongue. As you writhed in pleasure, Chan's hand moved between your legs, his fingers gently rubbing your pussy through the fabric. You moaned louder, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please, Chan," you begged, your voice ragged. "I need you."

Chan didn't reply. He simply smirked at you and began to remove your underwear, exposing your bare body to him.

"So wet.. And so pretty." he growled, his fingers sliding between your folds to find your clit. You cried out as he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles, his other hand gently massaging your breasts. You could feel your orgasm slowly building. 

Chan's fingers were working their magic on you, and you were close to cumming. But you wanted more, you wanted to feel his hard cock inside you.

"Chan..." You whined," Please fuck me." You gripped his hair tighter.

"Hmm? What was that?" he said. His fingers going faster in you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Fuck... Please… please Chan," You cry out. "Fuck me.... please. I need you," you say, whining to his touch.

Chan chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. "What a whore… Look at you.. Whining for my cock. Are my fingers not enough for you?" He inserted another finger, the stretch becoming almost too much to bear.

"Fe-feel so good." You managed to say. You moaned as Chan pushed his fingers deeper into you, hitting your g spot.

"Oh-Oh my God, I'm so close, Chan.." You said, your voice a soft whisper. Your hips bucked against his hands.

"Not yet, baby. I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. "I want you to cum in my mouth instead."

His head found its way between your legs, his tongue finding your clit as his fingers plunged deeper and harder into your pussy. 

You were close, so close, and Chan's tongue and fingers were bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He hummed against your clit as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair.

"Chan, please...I'm going to... "

Chan smiled, as he continued his actions. His tongue teased your tight hole as you reached your orgasm and your cum oozed out of you and down your thigh.

"Good girl," he purred, cleaning you up with his tounge. He pressed sweet, soft kisses to your clit and you whined.

Chan's lips trailed back up your body, kissing and nibbling their way to your mouth. He finally kissed your lips and you could taste yourself on his tounge. Your hands found their way to his clothed cock and you rubbed his hard member.

He quickly grabbed your hand to stop you. "Tsk.. Tsk ..Tsk..." he said. "This is about you. I want to make you feel good."

"No.." You said, trying to stroke him. "I want to make you feel good too."

Chan groaned and his hands went to his pants, unbuttoning and removing them, along with his boxers.

"You do make me feel good.." he said as his hands gripped your hips, lifting you and teasing his cock at your entrance. You took this opportinity to surprise him by flipping you both over, putting yourself on top.

You began to grind against him, mixing your cum with his pre cum.

"Oh?" he purred, his hands cupping your ass. "My baby wants to be on top?"

You leaned down and kissed him, as you slowly sank down onto his cock. You gasped, his length filling you completely.

"Fuck," he moaned, his eyes closing and his face contorting in pleasure.

You started moving up and down, your hips grinding into his as his cock slid in and out of you. Chan's hands roamed over your body, caressing and teasing you as you rode him.

You saw the bulge of his cock in your stomach with every bounce. "Mmm. That's it baby. That-Thats it. Good girl. Good Fucking girl." He said as you bounced faster and faster on his cock.

You began to clench around him, a tell tale sign of your coming orgasm. Groans leave his lips, dick throbbing deep inside you. Chan cursed lowly under his breath as he watched you look down at him.

You continue to grind your hips down against him, loving the look of desperation on his fucked out face as his leaking tip twitched in your warmth.

“Fuck” he said, feeling you clench more and more around him. "Fuckkkk. Fuck.. oh-" He said as he closed his eyes. Chan's hands remained on your hips, holding you as you moved. 

Suddenly he presses his hands down on your waist forcing you to stop.

You whined from the sudden stop, on the edge of cumming. Chan was so thick. So big.

SO big.

Cockwarming him was almost painful. You wanted to keep moving, to keep feeling him hit your cervix over and over and over again.

"Get off" he said sharply. "Get-get… get off. Please" he whimpered. His hips bucked against you, contradicting what his words were saying. "Please.. I-I can't take it. I'm gonna cum if you dont- fuck.....If you dont get off i'll cum inside you."

"You don't wanna cum in me?" you purred, looking him straight in the eyes with a pout. He gulped and looked away, his breathing laboured.

"Tell me how bad you want to fill me up, Channie."

"Baby..please," he begged, his voice low and needy. "We have no protection and-"

"Cum inside Channie" you said, interrupting him. You slowly moved your hips, making sure he stayed deep inside you. And GOD did he feel good.

"Baby…Please," Chan said, his eyes pleading. "Please. You feel so good, and tight and warm and - arrgh.. If you keep going I won't be able to stop myself. "

He looked at you, his face filled with desperation. "You want me to cum inside you? Are- are you sure?"

"Please, Channie." You said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his lips and your hips moved a little faster. "I need you.." You begged him.

Chan moaned loudly and he pulled your hips onto his, his cock fully twitching inside you.

"Oka-Okay, baby." he said as he began to thruste up into you, harder than ever before, hitting your g-spot and cervix at the same time.

"Oh-oh-Ohhh.. oh my god" You said with every thrust.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." Chan cursed, his pace speeding up. "You're a slut you know that? wanting me to fill you up? Cum inside you huh? Such a fucking whore"

"yes! yes! YES!!" you scream, his dirty talk making you even more wet.

"You want it inside? Beg for it." He said, his voice strained.

"Channie..Please...I need your cum in me." you said, looking him straight in the eye.

Chan moaned loudly and his thrusts became erratic.

"Please" you whined, your walls clenching around him.

"Baby..Baby" he moaned, his hips snapping into yours.

Chan cursed again, his thrusts becoming erratic and wild, losing control.

"Chan.. I'm-I'm."

"I know baby. I can feel it. Cum with me." You came first, unable to fight it any longer. "That's it good girl.. good-mmh good fucking girl."

He followed quickly after, burying his cock inside you, his cum painting your walls..

"Fuuuucckkk" He whined. He kept pumping inside you, making sure you took every last drop. You collapsed on top of him, his cock still twitching inside you.

Chan's arms wrap around you, his hands caressing your back as you both try to catch your breath. Chan kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you more" you said, content.

Chan’s arms pulled you close against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, His breath slowing down. His hands moved slowly and soothingly up and down your back, each touch gentle and reassuring.

He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice a soft murmur.

You sighed contentedly, feeling his fingers on your body. You both stayed like that for a while, the silence between you filled with unspoken words of comfort and love. Chan's hands continued their gentle caresses, tracing small, soothing circles on your back. His touch was tender, each movement conveying his care and affection.

Your legs tangled together under the covers, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. He held you with a strength that was both protective and gentle, making you feel safe and cherished.

--

As you nuzzled closer, you felt his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Let me get you some water and a snack," he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you. "Thank you, baby."

He kissed your forehead again before carefully untangling himself from you. "I'll be right back," he assured you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he got up and walked to the kitchen.

The quietness of the room was soothing, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to bask in the afterglow of the comforting moment you had just shared.

Suddenly, your phone dinged, breaking the tranquility. You furrowed your brow in confusion, reaching over to the bedside table to grab it. It was a notification from the new security cameras you had installed recently, informing you that there was someone at the door. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the alert. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Curiosity and a hint of anxiety swirled within you as you opened the app to check the live feed. The screen loaded, revealing the figure standing at your doorstep.

In the dim light, their silhouette seemed familiar. The person shifted slightly, adjusting their stance. You saw distinct features—strong jawline, and calm demeanor.

His profile was momentarily illuminated by a passing car’s headlights, casting a shadow across his face. He stood there, unaware of the camera, his expression unreadable in the ambient light. But as he shifted you could see his face.It was...

....Minho?

Your mind raced. Why was he here? What did he want? 

You watched intently as Minho lingered for a moment, then bent down to place something on the doorstep. You tried to zoom in on your phone hoping to provide a clearer picture.

It was a gift box, or at least you thought from what you could make out.

Without ringing the doorbell or making any attempt to announce his presence, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.

Confusion and curiosity mingled as you watched him leave. What could be in that box? Why didn't he want to speak to you directly? Why was he here at 2 am?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Chan's return with a glass of water and a plate of snacks, his face lighting up with a gentle smile as he approached. “Here you go,” he said, placing the items on the bedside table.

He noticed the change in your expression and the phone in your hand. “Is everything okay?”

You quickly composed yourself, hiding the unease. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you placed your phone face down on the table.

Chan handed you the glass of water. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

You took the glass and sipped, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. “Thanks, Channie.”

He sat down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, managing a smile. “Yes, just a little tired.”

He looked at you with a sleepy yet sincere smile. " Okay sweetheart." He said as he crawled into bed with you.

You nestled closer to Chan, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence. "I missed this," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "Me too," he murmured. “I was thinking... how about we go on a date tomorrow? Just the two of us. We could use some time alone together.”

Your heart warmed at his suggestion, and you smiled back at him. “That sounds wonderful, Chan. Where do you want to go?”

" What about dinner? Just you and me, dressed up, enjoying a meal at that new French restaurant downtown."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of an elegant evening together. "That sounds amazing, Chan. I'd love that."

He grinned, his fingers now gently caressing your cheek. "I thought you might." He pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Chan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “Let’s get some rest yeah? We both need it.”

You leaned into him, grateful for his comforting presence.

In the quiet of the room, you let yourself relax fully for the first time in what felt like ages. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear was a steady rhythm that soothed your mind. You thought about tomorrow night's dinner, imagining the elegance of the French restaurant and the joy of sharing such an intimate moment with Chan.

A small smile played on your lips as you realized how much you trusted him, how much you leaned on him for support. Tonight, there were no nightmares, no fears—just the comfort of his presence, wrapping around you like a shield.

But as you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, your mind kept drifting back to the box at the door. You knew you would have to see what Minho left, but you decided to wait until Chan was asleep.

As the night wore on, you found yourself thinking more and more about the contents of the box, The image returning again and again to your mind. Finally, you decided to sneak out of bed, careful not to wake Chan. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room and to the front door.

The box sat on the floor in front of the door, its presence casting a silent, haunting aura. It was a simple but elegantly wrapped package, tied with a deep crimson ribbon.

The weight of its contents beckoned to you, stirring a mix of curiosity and apprehension within your heart. You picked up the box and brought it inside to the living room.

The lamplight cast shadows across the room, dancing around the edges of the box as you set it down on the coffee table. For a moment, you simply stood there, hands resting lightly on the lid, grappling with your thoughts.

You carefully untied the ribbon, setting it aside with deliberate care. The soft rustle of paper and the faint scent of memories stirred as you lifted the lid. Your eyes widened in surprise and awe at what lay nestled within its depths.

Resting on a bed of delicate tissue paper, you discovered a beautifully crafted dress made with a corset. The fabric was luxurious, and the design was intricate, a perfect blend of elegance and sophistication.

As you examined the corset, a sense of familiarity washed over you. You recognized the craftsmanship, but you couldn’t quite place where you had seen it before. The more you stared at it, the more confused you became.

Why would Minho drop this off?

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Why now? Why in this way?

You sat back, the dress draped across your lap, and took a deep breath. This wasn’t just a random gesture. There had to be a reason, something you were missing. The corset felt like a key to a memory just out of reach.

You knew you needed to get some answers, but it was very late into the night. You carefully folded the dress back into the box and returned it to its place. With a final glance at the mysterious gift, you headed back to bed.

On your way back, your phone buzzed again, breaking the silence of the night. The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number:

...What?

Could Minho be the stalker? The thought was almost too much to bear, given your complicated history with him.

Confusion swirled within you. You had been so convinced it was Hyunjin—the unsettling letters, the feeling of being watched, the inexplicable incidents that seemed to point in his direction.

Wait.

Wait. Wait.

The letters. You never opened them. You hid them and ran out so quickly that you completely forgot about them.

They were still in your jacket pocket, where you had left them. With Quick steps, you returned to the front door and reached into the pocket and retrieved the unopened envelopes.

Sitting back down on the couch, you carefully unfolded the first letter. The handwriting was elegant and precise. But instead of being addressed to you…

it was addressed to someone else?

Hyunjin had feelings for you? You knew that but that was a long time ago.. right? Why was STAY bringing it up now.? Unless.....

Unless the feelings never left like he told you they did.

You had believed that Hyunjin's feelings for you were a fleeting crush, something that he had supposedly gotten over quickly, according to what he had told you.

The letter realved that it wasnt just a crush.

Hyunjin was in love with you, and Chan didnt know.

As you re-examined the letters and their ominous contents, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. Each letter not only threatened to expose Hyunjin's feelings but also outlined specific actions STAY wanted him to take to keep his secret hidden. Among them were references to Hyunjin's sketches, songs he's written about you, paintings, and selca's together, indicating that STAY had been leveraging these to coerce him into compliance. This oviously meant that this wasn't Hyunjin's doing. Why would he write such threatening letters to himself?

The realization hit you like a weight. The cameras and sketches found at the scenes were likely part of Hyunjin's desperate attempts to appease STAY, to protect his secret at any cost.

You felt a surge of empathy for Hyunjin, realizing the depth of his predicament. He wasn't the stalker you had feared; he was a victim, like you, ensnared by STAY's cruel machinations.

More important than ever. you needed to figure out who STAY was and put an end to their manipulative games. Not only were they messing with you but now with the boys as well. Who knew which others had also recived letters?

You carefully gathered the letters and placed them into the box, and put the box in the closet away from view.

Quietly, you made your way back to bed, slipping under the covers next to Chan. His presence brought you a sense of security, a reminder that you weren't alone. As you closed your eyes, you knew that tomorrow would bring difficult conversations and revelations, but for now, you allowed yourself a moment of peace.

Ep.8 if the shoe fits..

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[ahappydnp]

this is an actual question- i know dnp were kids when the internet came out but back in the early days was internet safety not taught? yes i know dan graduated hs in 2009 but was that not standard curriculum (or at least a shitty assembly?) ik you didnt go through the british school system but im just curious (for reference i was in kindergarten in 2009) (also considering this is the piss on the poor site no i am not victim blaming him for creeps im just wondering)

absolutely not lmao there was zero awareness for internet safety especially for mine and dan's age group. we were old enough to be left alone on the family computer but too young to think critically about how we engage with strangers online and the concept of that specific brand of 00s social media was so foreign to most adults it wouldn't cross their minds to make a PSA (specifically sites like myspace where you'd display your real name, photos, and personal information and then ADD AS MANY STRANGERS AS YOU COULD TO YOUR FRIENDS LIST VIA WHORE TRAINS)

we just treated our online life like an extension of our real lives except you'd get to befriend people who were like you but nothing was necessarily off the table in a way that's common sense now (like posting your home and school and where you hung out etc). and of course no one could have predicted what internet fame would turn into

[outsidersstuff16]

the outsiders preference

In which! your family body shames you in front of them.

TW: Alcohol, Smoking, Mental Abuse, and Fighting

this preference includes Ponyboy, Johnny, Dallas, Soda, and Darry. (In that order.)

I hope you enjoy!

Ponyboy-

it was a casual Tuesday in school, passing period. You were walking to Algebra with Ponyboy Curtis, a close friend and classmate. You two were talking casually when you were shoulder checked by your rude, snobby, and obnoxious older sister.

"sorry about that! I mean if you weren't so fat you wouldn't clog up the hallway and I wouldn't have run into you." your older sister said in an obnoxious tone. She was an attention whore, and everybody already knew. Pony looked at you with a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He however knew you weren't offended and knew she was saying what she said for attention.

"How can you be that much of an attention whore? You'd rather insult your little sister for your own fame? It's sad that you peaked in middle school." you said and walked away from the situation. You let out a relieved sigh and enters Mrs. B's room. Ponyboy spoke up.

"Are you ok? What she said was wrong and untrue, but I know that it can hurt you." You nodded and sat down preparing for class to start. Pony, however, knew better and hugged you and said to meet him at his locker after class since it was the end of the day.

(class is over)

You packed up your things in your bag and went to meet Ponyboy at his locker. He greeted you with a smile and hug. You two decided to go to the DX to see Soda and Steve.

Johnny-

You and Johnny were chillin out on a Saturday and you were meeting up with your dad so he could meet Johnny. Little did you know your dad was drunk. You and Johnny arrived at the dingo where you saw your dad with a beer bottle in both hands. You though oh shit. He's been double fisting. Your dad pulled you down to sit by your arm and he started the tell Johnny all about himself. Your dad started laughing.

"Now, Johnny how did you end up with my stick of a daughter? She's so small and petite and ugly. I don't see your attraction to her." Your dad said Johnny, however, had a quick comeback.

"It's good you don't see any attraction to her considering you 26 years older than her as well as her father. As for the comments on her body, I think she's the prettiest girl in the world and my opinion as well as hers are the only ones that matter. If you don't got nothin' nice to say, then don't say it. Good day, Asshole." Johnny finished and left with you, hand in hand. He turned to you and bent down to you slightly to give you a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry about him, baby. He's just a lowlife who's jealous because you found the love he's been missing. I love you." he said

"I love you too, thanks for sticking up for me back there."

Dallas-

You and Dallas were on your way to bucks house from the dingo. It was Friday night and Dallas wanted to go to Bucks house for his party, and of course you had to be there to since you were Dallas's new girlfriend. It wasn't all that exciting to you, an anti-social however Dallas couldn't wait to get there early. You had arrived to Bucks early to help set up for the party. For some reason Dallas couldn't keep his hands off of you. A couple hours flew by, and the house started to flood with people. One of those people being you Dick headed Cousin Tyler. You kept to Dallas' side and Tyler walked up to the bar, where you and Dallas was sitting. Tyler walked up to you

"Y/n? god I haven't seen your ugly twig Ish ass in a hot minute, who's this guy you got with you?" he asked in a bitchy tone. You looked down starting to feel insecure of what he said. You couldn't respond because you didn't know how to. Dallas whipped his head around and shot a glare to Tyler.

"Hey man watch how you're talkin to my girl man leave her alone. Who do you think you are?" Dallas said looking down to you and your disappointed face. "Hey honey, you'll be okay he's nothin. How'd he know you though?" You shook your head gently.

"he's my cousin Dal..." you said in a soft tone. "Excuse me." you excused yourself to go up to Dal's room. you walked upstairs and reached his room and opened the door and walked to his bed. You paused for a moment before sitting down. You looked to the floor and asked yourself why you had to be as small as you were and remembered all of the things Tyler said to you growing up; Go eat a burger, stupid stick, twig, you look like a crack addict with those thighs. It always mentally hurt you, but he did it in front of Dallas of all people. There was no way Dallas would love you after he heard your own cousin say that. Or so you thought. You stepped outside of your thoughts for more than just a moment to hear a man say "oh yeah Dallas! get 'em. It scared the shit out of you. You thought for sure the fuzz was gonna end up coming around by the end of the night tonight. A few moments later, Dallas entered the room with a bruised cheek. He let a few little laughs escape.

"Sorry, Sweetheart. I beat up your cousin for what he said... I hope you don't mind..." Dallas said, grabbing his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket along with his lighter. You pulled him closer and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks baby.." you say quietly

Sodapop-

It was a warm Tuesday summer morning, and you were with your boyfriend, Sodapop Curtis. It was a long night last night. You woke up next to your boyfriend in your bed. you turned to face him, admiring his features. You couldn't help but adore over his beauty. He was so beautiful. Soda then woke up.

"take a picture baby, it will last a whole lot longer." he said in a snarky tone. Your creepy Uncle walked in.

"hey Y/n. You wanna get a drink with me? I'll have lots of fun with ya hunny." he tried to pry himself between your legs.

"no, sorry I'm staying with my boyfriend right now." You replied gently. He got mad and punched a nearby wall.

"Damnit Y/n! You whore! Ever since your stupid fat ass started to date him you uh-uh-uh started um-" he paused and sighed "you've become more distant from me, you've gotten fatter and uglier sweetheart..." he tried this trick before with you. He was trying to sweet talk his way into you and Soda's down fall, however soda was not having it.

"What the hell do you mean uglier, bitch? Have you looked into the mirror lately, ogre? I don't care if she gains weight, she still will look pretty. Unlike you, you big, backed bitch." Soda spat in a hateful tone. You uncle attempted to come over and rip him from the bed spread but Soda got up and put your uncle into a head lock. "aww are you feelin' regret? I sure as hell hope so, talkin' about my girl like that." Soda let him go and pushed him out of your room. You uncle looked back in fear. Soda held a glare towards him and your uncle ran out of the house.

"Thanks Soda... I don't know what would have happened if you didn't do anything..." Soda climbed back in bed right next to you and gave you a passionate kiss.

Darry-

You and Darry just got done at a date and he had your smaller hand n his bigger one. You smiled warmly at him and continued to walk down the street to your home.

"Alright so this is me." you said and kissed him goodbye. You walked up on to your front porch. You mother threw a beer bottle and almost hit you. "Mom! Are you drunk again?" You yelled hoping Darry heard you, he did and ran back to you.

"Y/n! You fat obese whore! I wish you fuckin death you're my biggest mistake! " Your mother yelled, tears started to come to your eyes, and you stumbled back.

"Shut up, bitch you shouldn't be a parent. Burn in hell." Darry said calmly as he walked over to you giving you a huge hug and picking you up. "See hunny, you're not fat or obese I can carry you easily, baby.

"Darry, do you think I'm a mistake?" You ask, letting your mothers' words infiltrate your thoughts.

"No baby, you're not a mistake. Even if you where it would be the only good mistake she made, sweetheart." you snuggle yourself into his shoulder and find comfort in his scent. "I love you" he said gently.

"I love you too." You say with passion.

The END

[stripetucker-tweak]

The mischaracteization of Kenny McCormick is my roman empire. I know it is mainly because he is the most complicated of the main four to describe.

Of course you often see him characterized as a drug addict whore who will sleep with anyone man or women which while it does not come out of nowhere is complete flanderization. Kenny's sexual knowledge and desires I think come from the place of a child, he is that one kid who is obsessed with sex before all his friends but he has also no more expirence than anyone else and while I see him expirmenting sexually earlier than most I don't think that would translate into him being a slut as a teenager, at most a boob obsessed teen age boy. His desire comes from a welth of knowledge with a lack of experience. He is fundamentally a loser in most people's eyes, the weird poor kid, he would most likely strike out most of the time.

The next big mistake that people make in characterizing kenny is assuming that Mysterion is his base personality. This is obviously because it is the only form where we can hear him talk. Rather Mysterion is who Kenny wishes he could be. His fake voice is not just to hide his identity or the play alnog but rather to separate himself from Kenny. For example he uses Mysterion to look after Karen because Kenny himself can't. Kenny is just as much so a scared kid as she is, but through Mysterion he can separate himself from his family life to be who he wishes he could be for his siblings. He is able to threaten his parents to treat him and Kevin better brcause he separates himself from being their son. He is Kenny's guardian angel too. Mysterion also has a moral compass that kenny notability lacks. He is second to cartman is the main group when it comes to moral depravity. He would willing join the side of evil for a dollar or a chance to be noticed. He is typically cartman's sidekick and while he'll antagonize him as much as anyone else, he tends to go along with his plans whether it be joining the confederate army or not giving a fuck about whales until he can have his 15 minutes of fame. We see this with princess kenny joining the nazi zombies in tsot. However he does care deeply about his friends and where this comes through is self-sacrifce. The most genuine kenny moment in all of south park to me is at the end of bigger longer and uncut when he wishes for everything to go back to normal and takes his hood down, kenny making it to heaven shows that he is a good person deep down. His opertunism comes from that fact that he frequently sees the worst in world and his youth.

While Mysterion represents Kenny's heroistic desires, Princess Kenny represents a more selfish desire to be doted on. The two are near opposites Mysterion cares for Karen without Kenny's own needs but the Princess has everyone to care for her. Kenny, as I previously mentioned, is a loser. He is south park's punching bag and yet no one not even his closest friends seem to care. This is where Mysterion's righteous anger comes from, but when he is Princess Kenny everyone cares about him. All the boys who laugh at him are now enchanted by his cuteness. He is gaurded and doted on by his friends as if he is the most important person of all. It is a fantasy, an escape. He doesn't desire to have the responsibility of a king or prince or even a queen, but rather the effortless power of a magical girl. Kenny is a no one but while they are in Zaron he is the Princess, that is why he was so hurt when cartman would let him be royal and I think why he played as a girl in the first place, the lone damsel for all the boys to fight over.

He is defined by his poorness, although in the way that is the thing the cartman has chosen to rip into him about like kyle being jewish or stan being gay for being in love with wendy. Outside of his friends and butters he is seen as the weird dirty poor kid which he is a little self conscious of, often trying to deny it. Because he is so poor, he is very relient on his friends for things like food, videogames, and activities he can not afford himself. It also allows him to be easily minupulated for money or food. This has also made him a hardworker as he has expirence doing manual labor for cartman and employers such as lu kim. He is also willing to entertain or humiliate himself for money including prostitution.

The last important piece of Kenny is, of course, his many deaths. This is what makes him fundamentally different from every other character. He is constantly trying to avoid these extremely painful and gruesome deaths and lives in fear of the pain but does not take death even remotely seriously, not just his own temporary ones but other people dying as well. He is resentful of his friends for forgeting his deaths and this comes out especially as Mysterion as they acknowledge his immortallly as a made power akin to their own made up heroes This causes Kenny to be severely jaded at the worle. However, despite this, he is still able to find joy in little things, remaining generally happy. This also leads him to escapism such as getting high through 'cheesing' and his eagerness to try auto-erotic asphyxiation. Considering he can survive an overdose and therefore avoid typical addiction issues, I can see him abusing this as he gets older. There is also a part of him that hopes it is permanent every time he dies and a part of him that is relieved every time he wakes back up.

Kenny McCormick is multifaceted. He is selfish and self-less, brave and a coward, mature and childish, mean and kind-hearted. He would die for his friends, and he would sell them out for a dollar. He is a great brother, and he is sexually perverse. It just hurts to see people get him so wrong.

[hockeybabe]

So I did recently ask for a Quinn fanfic. And you did amazing like always!!

Could I maybe get an Auston Matthews one with smut and angst? I’m not really picky on the story as long as it involves me going from tears, to jumping for joy, to smirking. THANK YOU BESTIE!!

Am I Yours?||𝘈. 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴

*gif not mine*

Pairings: Auston Matthews x gf!reader

Summary: Auston makes sure you know who you belong to after having doubts.

Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), handjob, penetration (p in v), dirty talk, angst with a smut ending, Auston being an asshole, slut shaming, morning sex, squirting.

Word count: 1.2k

Requested: yes

Note: The urge I had to just make this an angst story but this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written

Being in a fairly new relationship with Auston was nerve-racking. You weren't going to lie, but when Auston first posted you on Instagram for Valentine's fans reactions were mixed. Many people didn't like you; frankly; most people didn't like the fact that Auston was off the roster for single men.

Auston constantly tried to reassure you that everything was okay and that they were just fans who didn't know either of us. It got harder when you showed up to games, fans would find you and interrogate you, asking you questions like "When will you break up?" "Are you using him?" Or "You're just another whore who wants him."

Tonight the Leafs will play the Blackhawks and Auston was just getting back into playing after a three-week injury. You've told Auston the fans were becoming too much and that you wouldn't be attending them anymore and just stayed in your apartment and watched.

Auston wasn't thrilled with the idea, but also knew that the fans were getting the best of you. You had many doubts on whether on not you two being together was a good idea. Reluctantly, Auston agreed not without arguing first.

He left for the game angry and said "We'll talk about the when the games over." and walked out the door. The Leafs lost by two, and when Auston got home it was clear the tension in the air was thick.

"Auston?" You call from the couch in your family room, pausing the tv. "What do you want?" He glares, walking into the room. You feel yourself confidence shrinking with the tone in his voice. Auston always brings happy/uplifting spirits when he talks.

"Look I know you're upset-"

"Upset, I'm more than upset, I'm fucking livid!" He shouts, throwing his hat to the side. Flinching, you pull your knees up to your chest. "First you're worried about the fans! Then, its not wanting to go to my games! I need my fucking girlfriend!"

"And I need you to understand!" You scream, tears welding in your eyes. "You need to understand how fucking hard it is hear your fans tell me all the time how I'm not good enough or that I'm a slut and just using you for fame!" You shout, getting up from the couch, facing Auston.

Auston runs his hands through his hair grunting. "Well you know what they say, start believing what people say and you become it." He mutters, not looking at you. "Fuck you." You whisper out, sobbing. "Fuck you! How dare you slut shame me! You know what? You're sleeping on the fucking couch." You shout, wiping the fallen tears, stomping upstairs to bed.

While lying on yours and Auston's bed you hear bangs coming from downstairs. As time passes, sleep becomes. practically impossible without Auston. Rolling over, you lay on Auston's pillow, inhaling his scent for comfort, feeling yourself slowly drift off to sleep.

꧁꧂

Getting out of bed was the last thing you wanted to do; part of you expected to see Auston lying right beside you when you woke up, but he must've stayed downstairs like you told him to. Grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you open instagram to see Auston posted on his story.

Feeling your heart clench and warmth devouring your body, you walk down the stairs to see Auston sleeping on the couch with a blanket barely covering him. Your panties dampen at the thought of having make-up sex with him and probably wake him up to it.

Straddling Auston's torso, you place open mouthed kisses on his face down to his jaw, then neck; you gasp at the feeling of two hands gripping your waist and a grunt leaving Auston's throat.

"What are you doing?" He mumbles huskily against your lips. Lifting your head and looking down at Auston, you smile. "I saw the post." You start, trailing your finger down his chest. "I want you to show me how much I'm yours." You smirks down at him.

Auston growls and sits up in response burying his face into your neck sucking and kissing, tilting your head as you let him take over, but not completely. Dragging your hand down his chest to the waistband of his sweats, you put your hand in reaching for his cock.

"That what your want baby, you want me to take my pants off." He whispers into your ear, peeling off your t-shirt. "Yes." You breath out, Auston obeys, taking both his sweats and boxers off at the same time. Auston, Auston's  cock springs out, pre-cum, already spewing out.  

"By the looks of it, you seem ready for me." You giggle, wrapping your hand around the tip of his cock, spreading his cum around the tip. "Fuck baby." He moans out, leaning on his elbows, leaning his head back as you rub his shaft up and down while your other hand plays with his balls.

"Baby, I'm gonna-" Before Auston can finish he bursts into your hand, smiling at him; you bring your hand to your mouth, licking it clean. Amusement and lust flash in Auston's eyes as he changes positions for you to be on the bottom of the couch.

"I'm gonna show you how much you belong to me." He growls, shimming down your body, kissing around your hips, and pulling your panties off since you weren't wearing any pants. Auston kisses on the insides of both your thighs getting closer to you pussy.

Auston blows onto your sensitive bud, watching you shudder in his hold "Auston please," you beg, gripping onto his hair. "Please what baby?" He taunts, blowing once more. "Lick me." You shudder again. Auston does as told giving you one lick and another and another, until you're coming apart in his hands.

Gripping his hair tightly, your head falls back onto the cushions as your orgasm takes over your entire body while Auston continues to rub your clit. "Auston its too much," You try to warn him, every time you and Auston have sex, he makes it his job to make you squirt since he was the first to do so.

Your ragged breath and body start to shake uncontrollably, as you try to warn Auston you're stopped as juices fly out of your pussy soaking the couch underneath you and Auston. "Fuck, that was so fucking hot." He mutters, kissing his way up your stomach to your face. "Look at you, you're practically cock starved. You want my cock?" He mocks playing with the buds of your nipples.

“Y-yes.” You answer out of breath, grinding your naked body against Auston’s. Auston runs his cock up and down your swollen slit, entering with no warning. You gasp as he thrusts once again. Auston leans over your body, burying his head into your neck, whispering comforting words.

You can tell Auston's as close as you are as his thrusts get sloppier and rougher. "Auston I'm-" "I know baby, I know." He mumbles, as he then commands you to cum. Auston collapses right beside you, pulling you closer to his naked chest. You both have small talk as Auston cleans you up and takes you upstairs back to bed.

[warnersister]

Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

Summary: you and Paul have fertility issues, the three men with a thing for you see this as a great opportunity to lend a helping hand. -> hate this one didn’t write it well🤧

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy, filthy smut, five-some, degrading (slut, whore, etc), hand-jobs, oral (f+m receiving), just a lot.

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

You and Paul had met in the early 50’s. Your family had moved in just down the street from him and the 10 year old McCartney was awestruck from the moment he laid eyes on you. The next day, he’d showed up at your house, to which your less-than-pleased father had answered the door, with a bow-tie and bouquets of flowers he’d taken from your mother’s new garden, to ask you to accompany him to the local youth centre for disco night.

He’d bought you a sherbet straw while he puffed on candy cigarettes before pecking your lips with tight-shut eyes mid way through you dining along to The Andrews Sisters’ song your mother had on vinyl.

When you were each a bit older, you’d accompanied Paul to the cavern club sitting in the front row as you’d hummed along with him, his eyes never drawing away from your own. Then he’d take you for dinner, a real fancy restaurant that his uncle owned, and he said that he’d pay - but it was always on the house.

Eventually, another three boys had somehow weaselled their way into your life and the product was an up and coming band: The Beatles. John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete- (scratch that) Richard Starkey and your boy Paul McCartney. And it was no secret that the three also had a thing for you - between the constant bickering and playful flirtations, Paul brushed it off because he always knew in the end that you were always his, and he was always yours.

Especially when he proposed on your twentieth birthday in 1962. Beatlemania crazed the nation and it wasn’t long before scandalous magazines began to accuse the boys of unruly acts and Paul was no different. And realistically, Paul saw the only way fit to prove his innocence to you was to ask for your hand in marriage. With your father’s approval of course… (?)

The fame never concerned you, nor did it necessarily appeal to you either - so you’d had a small ceremony in the local church, doors locked for a healthy gathering of your closest family and friends and an after party conjoined with a reception in the Cavern Club into the early hours of the morning.

“Y’know love, I never read a rule that said your first night had to be with your actual husband.” George had whispered into your ear, smirking at you after seeing the look on your face. “Not her first night.” Paul responded, hints of jealously in his tone as he threw you over his shoulder and off to his car.

That was also the night you’d discovered Paul’s intense breeding kink. His hips pushing into you at a bruising rate, lips failing him as he stuttered out his desire to see you full with his children.

But that was the problem.

“Am I the problem?” You’d asked Paul as you buried your face in his neck, crying after umpteen times, you still weren’t pregnant. “No, no, not at all dove.” He caressed your back gently. “We’re just going to have to be moved patient and keep trying. You’re perfect.” He said softy, cupping your puffy face between his hands, looking you over with a concerned gaze.

“Hey, woah woah woah what’s up lovey?” John asked as the other band members entered the room. They all ran to your side, helplessly watching the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t get pregnant.” You sniffed, hiccuping as the tears continued to flow. Ringo’s hands cupped yours as his sad eyes looked into yours. “Maybe there’s just not enough.” He said and your brows creased.

“Y’know our offer is always on the table.” George’s continued. “What offer?” You asked, confused. “Y’ mean you never told her, paulie boy?” John cocked his head. “No, cause I know what you lot are like.” “What y’ on about?” You ask again. “All of us.” George said. “Y’ mean-” “all of us at once.” John took your chin between his fingers and squatted down to where you were sat. “Wrecking y’ can handle us, dovey?” Shocked, you look from John to Paul who had a knowing smirk frowning on his lips. Without thinking, you nod at them. Suddenly, you were swept off of your feet and into the arms of John. “Let’s make you a baby.”

A king size bed was certainly not big enough to support the five of you, but in the boys’ desperation, you certainly managed. You were placed down gently on the bed, soft covers enveloping you as the four starved men looked down at you with lustful eyes. Your clothes were practically torn from your body, apparently them being to impatient to allow you to get undressed properly.

Paul caressed your hair gently before leaning into kiss you, as you begin to feel light kisses and licks on your breasts. You look down to see John staring back at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. He bit your nipple harshly and you hissed, screwing your eyes tight and throwing your head back. “Better get used to that if y’ want a baby.” George said, tracing his hand up and down the sensitive skin on your inner thigh.

Then all the delicious contact went again and you groaned, searching for the friction they were giving you. “Y’ want a baby? Y’ gonna have to let us get undressed first.” George chuckled. When they were undressed, John situated himself between your legs. “Oi, shift she’s my missus I’m having the first go.” Paul grumbled. “And the reason she can’t get pregnant.” John replied smugly, but was shoved out of the way by your husband. “Y’ gonna show em what a good slut y’ are for me, hmm?” He asked, fingers wandering down your thigh and towards your heat, beginning to pump them at an agonisingly slow pace.

George yanked your hair back and forced you to look at him, your mouth falling agape in the process. “Y’ gonna be good for us? Gonna give old Paulie a baby?” He taunted, rubbing himself a few times before forcing his length into your mouth. Gagging slightly, you tried your best to open your throat in the position you were in.

A heat built up inside of you, warmth rushing as you chased your high but it was soon stripped from you. Unable to complain, the disheartenment was soon replaced by something much larger - you and Paul groaned simultaneously, George doing the same as you sent vibrations flying through his cock.

After a while of Paul’s bruising pace, you rest his unwavering hips stutter as he released into you, you doing the same and realising all over him. George pulled out of your mouth and thrust himself into his hand a few times before also cumming. “Such a filthy whore.” Paul taunted, enamoured by the drool leaking from your lips.

“My turn now, birdie?” Ringo asked and you hummed, still dazed and coming off of your high. “He asked you a question. You being a disobedient slut for him?” John asked and you shook your head no. “Y-yes, your turn Richie.” You managed to stutter out.

His dick hardened at his routine nickname, needing no time to prepare you so without warning, sliding himself straight in. He let out a big breath of air at the feeling of your soft wall enveloping him. He began thrusting at an agonisingly slow pace, you in turn, crying out in desperation. “Patience now, doll.” Ringo told you. “Good things come to those who wait.” He took his time with you, not knowing when an opportunity like this one would come again.

Your head fell to the side and your eyes connected with John’s, who looked down at you with a small shit-eating grin. He leant down and licked your ear love, whispering gently “gonna give me a hand job while you let your husband’s friend take you?” You moaned at his question but nodded at him, raising your hand to rub up and down his hardening cock, swiping the tip a few times to use his pre-cum as some sort of lubricant. You pulled away and spat saliva into your palm, beginning to jerk him off at a faster rare. “Isn’t your first rodeo, is it dove?” John asked with a chuckle. “Got you well trained, haven’t I chick?” Paul said, leaning down to latch his lips onto yours.

Your high came excruciatingly slow, Richard building up the pace to the point he could no longer take it and took you animalistically, only stopping to release his seed deep into your womb and felt you cum over him. Waiting long enough for some of it to sink in, he slowly pulled out and kissed at the cold air attaching his sensitive member.

John released into your hand and felt his cock re-stiffen at the sight of you licking your hand clean. “Fuck. Me next.” He said, walking around the bed to your feet and positioning himself between your legs, feeling yourself being manoeuvred like some inhuman marionette. He moved you until your face was in the sheets and back arched for him, arse and sweet warmth on display for him. “Can’t let any of their cum get out, can we love?” He’d asked tauntingly, nails digging painfully rough into your hips.

He slipped in quickly, cock twitching at the sound you made, sensitive from the numerous rounds you had been put through. “Can’t believe Paul gets to keep you all to himself. A little slut all for him.” He said, staring to pepper kissed down your back while his hands found your breasts. Your arse was unquestionably bruised, as was your neck from the way Ringo and George were sucking at either side of it. John let out his load deep inside of you, full ovaries feeling themself being stuffed by the liquid trickling down into them.

George had waited so patiently for his turn, so patient with a so painful hard-on that he was going to make you regret giving him. Seeing himself torture you would be enough of a reason to make himself wait a few more moments. He spun you around and returned you into your back, kneeling down to kiss and worship the skin of your inner thighs, yet never close enough to provide the friction you so-desperately needed.

He kissed and sucked at your clit, thumb coming up to rub it as his tongue delved deep into your walls, making you cry out at the sight of their cum on his tongue. He thrust it into you a half a dozen more times before standing up and forcing his elongated cock into you. You hissed, pained by the repetitive beatings your intestines were receiving.

“Such a good little brat for us aren’t you?’ Paul asked, staring down at you as if a predator staring at its helpless pray. “Yes, ‘m good.” You repeated, doing as you were told as he tapped your chin to tell you to open it. You parted your lips and allowed your husband to force his dick into your already sore and throbbing throat.

George’s hips snapped at a consistent and quick pace, eyes not deferring from yours as he watched you take his bandmate’s cock so well. “Take him so well, don’t you dove?” He asked, praising you as you hummed and Macca moaned. George put his thumb onto your overstimulated clit and pressed down harshly. You cried out but tried your best to keep your throat open. “That’s if, keep it open.” Your husband taunted. And with a few more final thrusts, George cummed inside of you as you did the same, Paul releasing deep down your throat and you refrained from coughing - instead harshly swallowing and wiping the remaining resales from your mouth with your tongue and the back of your head.

“You were such a good girl.” John said, petting your hair gently and pecking your forehead. “Y’ alright, princess?” Ringo asked and you looked up at him and smiled with a nod. “Definitely gonna give Paulie boy a baby for being so good.” George added as he strolled your leg comfortingly. You enjoyed the praise you were receiving, letting the men manoeuvre you so you were in Paul’s lap. With your eyes shut, you felt yourself being lowered onto his cock and you hissed in both oversensitivity and surprise. You looked at your husband with tired eyes. “Don’t want any of it to go to waste.” He said with a wink and cheeky little smile. “Thank you.” You mumbled, drifting to sleep on his chest their quiet conversation turning into distant white noise.

A week or two later, your head was in the toilet bowl as Paul pulled your hair back into a make-shift pony tail and caressed your back at seven in the morning to let you be sick. “It’s alright love, think you’re coming down with something.” He said, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a fever. It was winter after all and your unreliable immune system was no match for England winters. “I’ll take you to the pharmacy, yeah?” And you’d nodded, wiping your mouth and letting him lead you out to the car.

You weren’t sick, unless your count baby fever. You were pregnant. Pregnant with a child. Pregnant with Paul’s(?) baby. The two of you were overjoyed and as were the rest of the boys when they found out, although offering if you wanted to have two in there just to ask, not minding the sight of you naked and belly swelling with a child.

And eight and a half months later, two weeks premature, your water broke at midnight. Paul sped to the hospital, mentally timing the distance between your contractions to tell the midwife when you got there. After a while of pushing, swearing, breaking Paul’s fingers, and him nearly dainton at the sight of the head coming out of such a small area, at seven minutes past 8, your son was born.

The boys all crowed around, in awe at the new baby in your arms. “He has his mother’s chin.” Paul notes, grinning from ear to ear. “And his fathers face.” The lads then piped up. “And Ringo’s droopy eyes-” George stated but was Vito off by the man himself “oi, oh yeah actually he does. And John’s nose.” John hummed. “And George’s eye colour and ears.” You all began laughing.

Whoever’s paternal child this may be, he was certainly a gift you yourself, your husband, and the three men who tagged along with you.