#gotta do a misogyny to see this one

[langernameohnebedeutung]

.

[morgana-pendragon]

[tropicalscream]

its good that people have enjoyed smaller tits and that not everyone with tits feels the need to be DDD minimum to feel worthy if attention

but this mentality needs to be more with dicks. The whole obsession with big dicks is rooted in so much bad shit from misogyny to racism and more. Its fine to have a preference but not when it excludes all others and you treat them as lesser for not having it

As a very fat trans woman i deal with this two-fold and im sure many others do as well. Our weight/size making us shoved into the DomTop corner but then mocked & belittled for having a dick thats smaller then average. Like what do expect weight gain, depression and hrt to do?

Cis dudes deal.with this too. and this mentality of what a dick is "supposed" to look like hurts our trans brothers as well

its this mentality of big = top = dom = proper

small = bttm = sub = embarrassing/gross

its fucked up and so many ppl perpetuate it. how many times do u see/hear ppl post about big dicks and etc etc but the only context for smaller ones is humiliation?

we all gotta get less fucked up about dicks

[navybrat817]

Jawbreaker

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.

He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.

But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.

Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.

Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.

“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.

The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”

Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”

You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.

Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”

A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.

“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.

The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”

You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.

You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.

And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.

Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.

Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”

“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?

“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.

The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.

The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.

And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.

A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”

He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.

The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”

Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”

“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”

“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.

Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.

“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”

You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.

And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[venus-haze]

Sick as a Dog (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Day 25 - Underwear stealing/sniffing. Soldier Boy is America's first superhero. The greatest man who ever lived. Larger than life itself. A sleazy chauvinist who's getting off on your panties in a motel bathroom. [AO3 link]

Note: Written for @cozycornerevents Kinktober! Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I think this is my first Soldier Boy fic set in modern day…anyway it was fun writing mean and gross Soldier Boy🤭

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Soldier Boy-typical misogyny. Sexually explicit content involving masturbation, panty stealing/sniffing, degradation, voyeurism.

You couldn’t relax around Soldier Boy, not when Butcher and Hughie left you alone with him in that damn motel room. It was almost impossible to focus on the TV with him so blatantly eyeing you like a piece of meat. Tried to do the arm-over-the-shoulder move so he could grope your breast, and called you a prude under his breath when you scooted further down the couch. 

Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t about to mix business with pleasure—especially not with a guy who, when introduced to you, asked Butcher if they only kept you around as “stress relief,” as if you weren’t even standing in front of him. Maybe you should have gone with MM and Annie after all.

“I gotta use the can,” he grumbled, scratching his crotch before standing up from the couch.

The tension slowly released from your body the further away he got from you. Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you saw a missed text from Hughie: Sorry to leave you on supe-sitting duty. Everything good?

You sighed, your thumbs hovering over the keys before sending back: Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.

Threw in an emoji at the end so he wouldn’t feel too bad. It was kind of your own fault, anyway. You decided to go along with Butcher and Hughie because part of you still naively believed in Soldier Boy’s heroism, his authenticity. And then you actually met him. Heard the shockingly crass way he talked, a relic of a time you had no interest in reliving.

You were just about to text Annie when you heard it.

A name. Your name. Low and gruff and mean coming from his mouth.

Putting your phone down, you glanced in the direction of the bathroom. 

You knew your best option was to just ignore it when you heard him say your name again—turn up the volume on the TV and ignore the way heat flared up between your legs at the grunts he didn’t even try to keep down. Instead, you stood up, your heart beating faster with each step you took. The motel room wasn’t all that big, didn’t take very long at all to get to the bathroom door, look in where he’d left it open a crack. 

Had he been careless? Or did he want you to watch?  

You gaped openly at him, pumping his hard cock with a pair of your used panties bunched up in his hand, sliding it up and down his length. Black, satin with a little bow, it was one of your favorite pairs you brought with you, too, and you weren’t sure how to feel about him having chosen that one to get off with, to ruin. You looked back at your duffel bag, wide open and clearly rifled through. Supposed you were trying too hard not to pay attention to him to pay any mind to his violating your privacy.

“That’s right, take it, you fucking slut,” he growled. “You might not be their stress relief, but you’re gonna be mine.”

How the hell was this the same guy whose PSAs you watched throughout your school years, telling you to pledge allegiance to the flag and say no to drugs? He was sick, hypocritical, a symbol of the worst of American debauchery. Every subsequent word that came out of his mouth was vile, objectifying—should’ve repulsed you instead of going straight to your pussy. Your brain was screaming at you to go back to the couch and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow, have to carry you over my shoulder and tell everyone what a slut you are for my cock.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He squeezed his cock harder, his pumps more punishing, frustration radiating off of him as his precum soaked through your ruined panties. Could you even bear to wear them again, knowing all the things he said and did with them bunched up in his hand, picturing you in their place, bent over the motel room sink, or anywhere else he could think of in that deviant mind of his.

“How bad do you want it? C’mon, I wanna hear you beg.”

“Please,” you whispered despite yourself.

“I know you’re out there,” he taunted, startling you. “I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat. Why don’t you come in and give me a hand?”

With a gasp, you found your legs again and ran back to the living area. Fell over yourself to get onto the couch and make the TV louder, anything to drown out the sound of his groans, your name mixed with curses as he came just a few feet away. 

Your face was on fire, and you sat with your hands folded between your legs, trying desperately to ignore the want that had overtaken you while watching him. You were better than that, better than debasing yourself for someone like him. Still, a shiver ran down your spine when you heard a gruff, drawn out “Fuck” over the sound of the stupid Vought A Burger commercial that was on.

The sink ran. Toilet flushed. Your head was pounding when he walked out of the bathroom and back to the couch. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, throwing your panties at you.

The balled up garment landed on your lap, wet and heavy with his cum. With a reluctant, trembling hand, you pushed it onto the floor.

Your voice cracked as you half-heartedly told him, “You’re disgusting.”

He scoffed, his arm draped across the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder. “You should take it as a compliment. There’s plenty of other broads I could’ve jacked off to—Hayworth, Bardot, Fawcett—”

“But none of them had their panties lying around here, did they?”

“No, they didn’t.” He was silent for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna get you to fold sooner or later. Then, I’m really gonna make you beg for it.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you mumbled.

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part One

Featuring (in the next part): Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Azriel left you in the Autumn Court border while Rhys was at a ball with Amarantha and the other High Lords, leaving you trapped outside of Velaris with the enemy... Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of wings and skin burning, misogyny, alludes to SA, let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

You stood in your black and navy dress, feeling ridiculously out of place next to the maroons, dark greens, and golds of the Autumn Court. While Azriel, one of your best friends and your brother's Spymaster, escorted you to the Court, he quickly forgot his guard duty and winnowed away to find Mor.

"Mor's upset. I gotta go." Was his excuse, leaving you alone and outcast in the Forest House. According to Azriel, taking care of a safe female in Velaris (that he had puppy dog eyes for) was more important than guarding of the Lady of the Night Court in enemy territory. You were sure Rhys would be pissed if you decided to tell him about Azriel's disappearance.

You were starting to feel tired and bored as you stood on the wall, so you decided to leave. If you could get out of the Forest House bounds and cross the wards, you could winnow back to the town home. You really wanted to get out of this dress and take a nice bath. The Autumn chill wasn’t terrible, but you missed the summer breeze in your city.

You walked out of the court, watching as most of the Autumn Court guards paid you no attention. As you made your way out of the Forest House, you took in the fresh air. It was always too stuffy and crowded in ballrooms for you. You were glad to be outside. At least you could stretch your wings out here.

You tested your winnowing abilities as you made way through the wards. However, just as you made to winnow back home, your magic stuttered. You let out a small gasp, trying to reach down to that deep pool of darkness, but just a small puddle was left. You took another breath, trying to recall what you drank. You came up empty, literally, as you didn’t take any drink offered throughout the night.

You heard Rhys’s voice ring through your head. “Keep Velaris safe. Don’t tell anyone. Amarantha has taken our magic. Be careful. Protect the city. Protect each other.” And then he went silent. Your mind… you tried reaching out to him but nothing happened.

You started to panic, looking around to see if somehow Azriel came back for you. But from what you could tell, you were alone. You almost turned back to enter the Forest House. But, with Autumn being nothing short of an enemy, you decided to chance your luck with the forest in front of you. It was too wooded to take off from your current spot, so maybe you could find a clearing ahead.

Taking a deep breath, keeping calm, you started to walk north. If you could make it to Winter, maybe Kallias would allow you to cross into Night uninterrupted. Winter was normally your closest ally, and you quite liked the High Lord when you met him.

You walked for a few minutes, taking deep, calming breaths as you made your way deeper into the woods. Every sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you were just waiting to see that clearing of trees.

Instead, three males approached from the right. You took a deep breath, tucking in your wings as you pressed against a tree. The males appeared drunk, but stable. They weren’t stumbling just yet, but you could smell the alcohol from where you stood. Which meant they would catch your scent as soon as the wind turned.

You took another deep breath, walking forward. They couldn't touch a member of the Night Court. They would be butchered for it. You kept your head high as you continued to walk, only pausing when one of the males called out to you.

"Hey! What are you doing out in these woods?" Sentinels. That's the kind of clothing they wore. They were guards for the forest.

"I'm going home. Can't winnow." You said, tucking in your wings in hope they wouldn't see them in the shadows of the night. You tried to will the darkness to you as you normally would, as Rhys taught you to, but only a little bit of it budged. Amarantha took the High Lords powers... meaning each and every other power tied to their court would be restricted even more.

"Unfortunate. You look like you're a long way from home, as an Illyrian." He said, stalking over to you. It seemed they had no problem provoking a member of the Night Court.

"I am lady of the Night Court. I need to get to my people." You said.

"Ahh, the Night Court." Another one said in a mocking tone. "Lady? You look little more than a whore to me." He said and walked from behind his friend, backing you into a tree. "Shall we see what the Night Court thinks of us when we burn its lady's wings to ashes?" He asked, fire flickering on his finger tips.

Of course. They were in their home Court. No matter how little magic the High Lord had, the land would provide more of it. "My brother will incinerate you if you do."

"My brother." The male teased in a high pitched voice. "Who? Rhysand? That little bastard?" He asked, hand nearing your wing. "He won't even care when we're done with you." He said.

You tried to side step, but two sets of arms restrained you. And then came the pain.

You let out a blood curdling scream as hot, burning flames enveloped your wings. Along with the bark of the tree behind you cutting into your tendons. You fought as hard as you could, pulling away from the males as best you could. The males dug deeper, surely drawing blood from your arms but you didn't know as the fire tore through your wings. Over your pain and screams, you heard a belt unbuckle.

"Never fucked an Illyrian before. Let's see if what they say is true." The male in front of you said. You continued to struggle, but the pain of your wings burning was too much. The smell of the membrane and, gods... the skin of your back, was enough to make you pass out. But you stayed conscious, willed the little magic in you to cast a net of darkness around your wings. You prayed to the Mother that the darkness would snuff out just one tendril of the flames.

Your screams must have alerted the guards of the Forest House, because next thing you knew, a familiar voice was commanding the males to step away. You fell to the ground as the males released you. As quickly as the flames enveloped your wings, the were snuffed out. That didn't mean your wings were repaired. They were completely in ruins. Torn in almost every place, tendons burnt to a crisp that the most important ones had snapped. Your back was raw, blisters forming on the skin. Even the braid that cascaded down your back was burnt, leaving your hair singed and ragged against your shoulders.

You whimpered, the small ounces of your magic working to heal whatever it could.

"Lady (Y/N)," You heard that familiar voice again. You couldn't move. You couldn't look up. Who was talking to you? "It's Eris... we need to get you to a healer before this gets worse." The High Lord's heir said.

"Worse?" You rasped, your voice nearly inaudible because of your screams. You couldn't bring yourself to keep talking. Only thinking in your head as your body sagged further into the ground, nothing is worse than this.

Azriel's back seized in pain, a terrible, yet amazing feeling snapping in his gut.

Rhys had spoken to them mind to mind just minutes ago, telling them what happened. And leaving Amren in charge of them.

Azriel couldn't leave Velaris. Whatever magic Rhys threw out completely shut the wards and borders. He couldn't winnow to his High Lord. And more importantly, he couldn't winnow to you. He asked Mor to try and get out, but she was stuck as well. Rhys trapped them inside the city, effectively trapping you outside as well.

Only thing is, Rhys expected Azriel to be with you. To protect you and get you home safely from Autumn. Instead, he went to Mor because she was upset about something. And left you stranded.

He was just about to tell the others that they needed to find a way out when the pain and the snap hit. In a few blinks, his entire world shifted.

The others went silent as Azriel jerked where he stood, his wings fluttering behind him.

"Azriel?" Cassian asked, frowning as his brother jerked again.

Azriel took a few deep breaths as the pain died down, and then came to the horrible realization of what snapped in his gut.

"(Y/N)-" He paused and stared at his family. The ones that might just kill him when he said what he was about to. "(Y/N) is in the Autumn Court."

"What? I thought she came back with you?" Mor said.

"She's in the Autumn Court," Azriel stated again, ignoring Mor, "and she is my mate."

Part Two

A/N: Oof... this was so fun to write!

Main Masterlist

[gor3-hound]

WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE - NAOYA ZENIN

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

a/n: commission for the very lovely @nexysworld !! naoya is so very pretty and i was scared to write him BUT !! he was actually very fun to write. i love my asshole nepo baby :3 hope you guys enjoy, fb and reblogs are always appreciated <3

cw: 18+ content, dead dove-ish, pussy inspection, mistreatment of hybrids, forced cosmetic procedures, dub-con bcs power dynamics, praise, degradation, use of shock collars, caging, mentions of filing teeth, ear cropping, touching unhealed wounds, tail play, misogyny, spit, mean naoya, dehumanisation, orgasm denial, forced spaying, p in v, creampie, dacryphilia, neglect

word count: 3.2k words

Naoya’s bored.

It might’ve made you feel better if he had a secret soft spot - that the pressures of his clan have left him lonely and desperate for companionship, but that’s simply not the case. There’s no profound self-realization that comes with his actions, no sense of guilt when he pays one of the maids to suck him off before he kicks her to the curb.

He’s just bored. He’s always found the best cure for his boredom was to find a pretty little plaything that was willing to put up with him. But there’s only so much you can do to a human girl before she’s skittering off. Women value their life more than their job these days, a thought that has him scowling and breaking the shit in his room as soon as his latest slut cuts him off.

He needed something more permanent. A pretty thing that he can use to get his dick wet. One that isn’t crying for a relationship or money when he’s finished. He’s always found those hybrids pretty cute, and it seemed like the perfect thing to keep him entertained. A girl that knew she was lesser than him. A pet he could play with that would forgive him after a couple of head scratches and a new toy.

It’s that thought that has him dragging his ass to the nearest adoption center, his eyes scanning the kennels until he spots you.

You seem like a shy little thing, but he doesn’t see an issue with that. He’s always had more fun breaking girls in, and you’d be no exception. He hums thoughtfully for a moment, his head cocking to the side as he looks you over. He doesn’t address you or ask you any questions, but he doesn’t need to. You were cute, and that’s all he really cared about, anyway. He calls a worker over, asking to get some time alone with you.

“Well, we don't really have any private rooms for you to-”

“How much?” Naoya cuts him off without even gazing his way, his eyes locked onto your form. No point buying the goods if he doesn’t get a trial run, first.

“I'm sorry?” The worker stutters out. Naoya hates that shit. Pisses him off more than anything, acting like he doesn’t want the Zen’in’s money. Naoya knows better.

“You heard me. How much? Doesn't need to be a fancy room. Shit, I'll take a storage room. I gotta check she's worth the money, y'know?” He says with a sigh, his brows twitching slightly as he fights back a scowl.

Seems to work well enough, because the worker leads him to a staff room, telling him to wait right there. He crosses his arms over his chest, making him sigh in annoyance. He waits impatiently, but he lights up when you come padding into the room, looking all nervous.

”No need to be scared, girl.” He tells you, but his words come out in a grunt. He doesn’t really care if you’re scared of him or not, as long as you let him get a good look at you. He moves towards you when you don’t budge, gripping your chin between his fingers.

His gaze is sharp, his dark brown eyes narrowed as he looks over your features. He reaches a free hand up to your floppy ears, giving them a flick. A frown crosses over his features as he gives you an appraising gaze , clicking his tongue. “They’ll have to get done. Don’t like ‘em.”

His fingers and thumb dig into your cheeks, forcing a gap between your teeth so you open your mouth. He shoves his fingers down your throat, sighing when you gag and splutter. “Gonna have to train that outta ya. Those canines are gonna have to get fixed, too. Bet they’d fuckin’ hurt if they caught my dick.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your spit off on your cheek, smirking when your nose wrinkles. He reaches down, tugging on your fluffy tail with a thoughtful expression. “That can stay, though. Cute.”

”Bend over the table, pup. Spread your legs, lemme see your cunt.” He orders, releasing your tail and taking a step back. Your hesitance irritates him, and his hand comes out to smack you across your face so hard that your head snaps to the side, your ears ringing. “Don’t make me say it again. I fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Your tail is tucked between your legs as you shift to lean over the table, those fluffy ears pressed down firmly against your head. Doesn’t bother Naoya. He kicks your feet apart, pulling your pants and underwear down in one tug. The tail is a little bit of an obstacle still, so he sighs and scratches behind your ears.

”C’mon now, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He coos, making sure he finds the spot behind your ear that has you pushing back against his hand. His tone is condescending, but that dumb puppy brain of yours can’t register that. He grins as your tail perks up and wags, showing you off to him. “That’s better. Lemme get a look at that pretty pussy.”

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect.

He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door.

”Hey! I’ll take her.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Naoya’s unpredictable.

It’s hard to settle into a routine with him. He can be easy to handle one moment, only to switch up at the next second. He’s never kind - that’s not the right word for him - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments. If you’re good, he’ll let you curl up at the foot of his bed. Sometimes he’ll even let you sit at his feet when he’s relaxing, petting your head absentmindedly.

Those moments are few and far between. For the most part, he’s cold. He doesn’t pay much attention to you unless he’s feeding you or if it’s play time.

He shows you the most attention when he wants to play. He’ll praise you, scratch behind those freshly cropped ears standing tall on your head and run his fingertips through the fur of your tail until it’s wagging fast enough that he knows you’ll be pliant and eager for anything he wants to do to you. You’d tried whining, begging, pleading… Anything just to get him to look at you and show you some affection, but you quickly learned that the only way you could guarantee something from him was to paw at the front of his pants until he’s twitching against your hand.

His choice of affection has a bit of a side effect, and you’re unlucky enough that Naoya notices it. All it takes is one little ‘good girl’ or a scratch on your head for you to be soaked, whining and rutting against any part of him you could reach. He loves feeling you wrapped around him, but he loves teasing you even more. So, naturally, as soon as realizes how desperate his touch makes you, he decides it would be a fun little game for him to see just how needy you could get.

He’s leaning back against the couch when he spots you padding over, that fluffy tail slowly picking up speed the closer he gets to you. He can’t help but chuckle when he spots you settling on the floor by his feet, a smirk spreading across his face when you rest your chin on his thigh. Your gaze flicks up to his face, a longing expression on your features. His hand comes down to pet your head, fingers scratching your scalp gently.

”You need something, girl?” He coos, tugging on one of your bandaged ears until you whimper, biting back a laugh when you lean into the touch regardless of the pain that comes with it. You’re always so eager to please, it drives him crazy.

“Need you, please.” You whine, your ears tilting back slightly, unable to press flat against your head due to the wrapping keeping them up so they heal pointed. He grins wolfishly at your words, yanking you by the collar until you’re straddling his thigh, a mischievous going in his eyes.

”Go on then, pup. I’m too tired to deal with you myself. You can handle it, can’t you?” He hums, giving your head a pat before crossing his arms behind his head as he leans back on the couch. You give him a curious little head tilt, confusion twisting your cute little face. He loves it when you give him that look - you’re just a dumb puppy, nothing more than entertainment for him. He can’t help but feel amused, shifting his leg so he can press his thigh more firmly against your core.

”You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure it out, puppy.” You seem to get the picture, a soft, needy sound rising in your throat as the hard muscle of his thigh presses against your cunt through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips start shifting on their own, rutting against him desperately. Your mouth falls open, artificially rounded canines digging into the flesh of your bottom lip.

Your hands come down to rest on your own thighs - you know better than to touch Naoya without asking, and you don’t want this to end so soon. Your nails press into your flesh, leaving indents on the surface of the skin. Naoya’s face is a mask of indifference. There’s no sign of enjoyment from him, the only hint that he isn’t completely unaffected by your actions is the tent forming beneath the fabric of his pants. You whine when you realize he isn’t even looking at you, staring over your shoulder to look over one of the paintings on the wall.

You want him inside of you, want his strong hands to grasp your thighs as he fucks into you. The thought alone has you panting, your head hanging as your tail starts to wag again, steady behind you as you grind against his thigh more harshly. Your breaths come out heavier, your cunt soaking through the fabric of your shorts to coat his own pants.

You’re so overwhelmed with your rapidly approaching orgasm, how good it feels to finally be this close to your owner that you don’t see his hand reaching for his phone until it’s too late. You yelp as your collar zaps you, the fur on your tail standing on end as the shock makes you spasm, your hips quickly pulling away from his thigh.

”I didn’t say you could cum, did I? Bad girl.” He hisses, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you across the floor, forcing you into your crate with a swift kick. He slams the door behind you, locking it before stepping back. “You can stay there for the rest of the night. If I hear you so much as fuckin’ squeak, you’re not getting let out for the rest of the week. Got it?”

You nod quickly, but that’s clearly not good enough for him. He taps at the screen of his phone a few times before pressing his thumb down for a longer period. The voltage is higher, and he doesn’t let up on shocking you until you drop against the blanket in your crate, your fingers twitching. He scoffs at the sight, letting go of the button.

”Pathetic. If I’m talking to you, I expect an answer. Surely you’re not so stupid you’ve forgotten how to use your words?”

”N-no. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll be quiet.” You whisper, your voice shaking slightly with the effort it takes you to hold back tears.

”Stupid mutt.” He grunts, fiddling with his trousers until he can free his cock. His jaw tenses in slight annoyance at how quickly that has you perking up, your eyes wide with interest like he’s holding a damn treat up for you. He steps closer to your crate, pressing his length down against the bars above your head. Naoya can’t help but laugh as you try to crane your head to get a taste of him, his eyes shining with amusement as your tongue laps between the gaps to catch his skin.

”Look at you. You were crying a second ago, and now you’re drooling like a bitch in heat? You are the single most pitiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.” He muses, letting out another chuckle at the whine that spills from your lips when he pulls away from the crate.

”Go to sleep.” He grunts as he tucks himself back into his trousers, his eyes trained on your as he takes a step back. “If you’re good enough, I might let you out for breakfast.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Naoya is wordless as he approaches your cage.You can tell from his narrowed, fox-like gaze that he hasn’t forgiven you from last night, his jaw set tight as if you hadn’t just made a small mistake. Naoya expected nothing but perfection from his pet, and it was something he made abundantly clear. He opens the door, his eyes narrowed in on your slumped over figure.

”Out.” The words are short and clipped, but firm, leaving no room to argue. It wasn’t a request, but a command. You weren’t stupid enough to ignore it.

He watches you crawl out of the cage, kneeling at his feet on the cold floor. You keep your gaze trained downwards, unable to meet his eyes. You look so pathetic it almost angers him, a crease forming between his brows as looks down at you. He slowly strips his clothes, his eyes locked onto you the entire time.

“Strip.” You listen, pulling your clothes off and adding them to his own pile on the floor. There’s no praise now, no attempts to get you wet enough to take him. He just pushes you down onto all fours before spitting directly onto your cunt as he forces his cock into your tight heat. It’s meant to be a punishment, but all it takes for you to get wet is the feeling of him stretching you out, your tail swaying side to side as his tip presses up against your cervix.

”Such a slut… Dripping as soon as you see cock. Bet it doesn’t even have to be mine, hmm? Could pass you around the whole clan and you’d gladly let each and every one of ‘em mount you until you were sore and dripping cum.” He spat, his hips rocking forward harshly. He builds up a steady pace, pounding into you brutally.

”Wouldn’t…” You manage to force out, brows furrowing as you try to rock back against his hips, your walls pulsing around his length. “Just you… want your pups.”

”Aww, that’s cute. You want me to breed you, girl? Is that it?” He lets out a cruel laugh, tugging on your tail to pull you back against him with each thrust, his cock brutally pounding into your tight cunt. “You think I’d let you carry my seed? That your bastard children could be sufficient heirs for the Zen’in clan? I’d never let you have puppies. Stupid fuckin’ bitch. Didn’t even realize I got you spayed? You just believe every little thing I tell you, huh?”

Fuck, he really likes the look of your tears. Nearly has him cumming from the way you look sobbing on his dick, the way you clench around him like you're trying to milk him dry despite how upset you are. It doesn't matter what he does to you, not when you're so forgiving. He knows he can say whatever he pleases and you'd still come running back to him, tail tucked between your legs like you were the one in the wrong.

He presses down between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest flat against the hard-wood floor as he keeps your ass in the air with his grip on your tail. With your back arched, the new angle allows him to fuck into you deeper, bullying himself into you without any regard for your pleasure. You were nothing more than something to use to him - a glorified fleshlight, at best. He only let you cum because of how tight you squeezed him when you did, how hot it was to see your dripping down his length.

This wasn’t about you right now - it was meant to be a punishment. You'd be lucky if he decided to let you cum in the following weeks, let alone today when he's still pissed off at you for almost breaking one of his rules.

His hips smack the fat of your ass with every thrust, low grunts spilling past his lips as he wraps your tail around his hand, smacking your thigh in frustration when you yelp at the discomfort that comes with it. He's increasingly glad with every pained whimper as his grip tightens that he decided not to dock your tail. It's so much better than a leash could ever be, forcing you back onto his imposing length everytime it gets too much for you and you try to crawl away.

“M'gonna cum.” He groans, harshly forcing your upper body further against the floor as he leans his weight on the hand pushing you down, slick sounds filling the room as he thrusts himself brutally in and out of your twitching pussy. He yanks on your tail, pulling you back against him as he cums with a grunt, his cock twitching inside of your abused cunt. He ruts his hips into you shallowly as he rides out his high before pulling out, smacking your ass once before standing up, ignoring your pleas to let you cum.

“Stupid mutt.” He spits out, rolling you onto your back with his foot, pressing it down against your stomach to hold you down. He spits on your face, a huff of laughter leaving him as your nose wrinkles. “I've been too good to you. Made you think you have a say.”

“You are a toy.” He continues, pulling his foot away with you before moving to gather his clothes. He pulls them on, leaving you panting and leaking his cum on the floor. “Something for me to use when I get bored.”

He makes his way to the door, shooting one last glance at you over his shoulder. “The quicker you learn that, the better.”

[scuderia-hamilton]

most of the drivers' reactions to the whole Horner situation is so disappointing tbh. what do you mean someone in the paddock, an employee gets harassed by one of the top figures in the sport and your reaction is either "it has nothing to do with me", or "no comment", "i just like cars and i want to drive", "it's noise and distraction", "i'm here to race", and "it's a good thing for the media", "it doesn't affect me", "i don't really have an interest".

why is it so hard to care about something other than your racing career? you gotta have some morals, dude. not caring about women's safety in your oh so beloved sport is some fucked up behaviour. in situations like this it really shows how fucking privileged they are and it's honestly repulsive.

this is precisely why Lewis is always the one being asked about any non-sport related topic. because he's the only one who cares and gives honest and nuanced answers. genuinely terrified of what this sport will become when he retires, cause no one will speak out on anything.

and then people wonder why we say that f1 is not a safe place for women and that misogyny is still very much a thing in the sport? men don't care, including the president of the fia and f1, the other team principals and most of the drivers as well. when the faces of the sport clearly don't give a shit about women, what kind of hope is there?

they can talk about equality and progressive values and promoting women in motorsports, when this is the reality of how they actually treat the women working in the sport. imagine how that poor woman is feeling, seeing how much the drivers care about what she's going through. utterly disrespectful, with no compassion or empathy.

f1 needs to do so much better.

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

3.

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

thump.

thump.

[uc1wa]

*heavy sigh* possessive frat boy Dick Grayson getting increasingly more deranged about how he lays his claim on you as the semester wears on, finals week breaking point where he loses it on you like you're a stress ball, etc.

even though he'd never cave and make you his gf, nope no sir

tags: fem reader, toxic relationship, yanderish, misogyny, mentions of rough sex, penetrative sex, choking, manipulation, fucked up frat boy dick

dick fucked a different girl every weekend, y'know, before his drunk self stumbled to your door. but who cares about the smell of perfume that's clung to his half-buttoned top? the top that has buttons in places they aren't supposed to be. who cares? because he's still going to come home to you, and you'll be his last fuck of every weekend.

but you? the first load he spilled on your stomach should've said enough, no? dick doesn't just fuck everybody, at least that's what he thinks. you're his and his only.

the first time he smelt another guy's cologne on you, saw a shirt that was surely not yours, a product of your own one-night stand, dick grayson lost his shit. fucked you like you were a sleeve for his cock rather than a person.

"then... are we dating?" the condescending laugh that left dick's lips was your answer. dating? the word made him gag, why would he lock himself down when he was at his prime? are you stupid? do you know who he is?

no, you weren't dating. you were fucking, but you obviously had a problem understanding your place, didn't you?

it started with hickies. an embarrassing amount that no number of necklaces or turtleneck tops could cover in their entirety. hickies that started at your jaw, dark splotches moving down your body. did you want to wear a crop top? dick's taking note to leave one on either side of your hips. where there's skin, there are remnants of the man to whom you belonged.

it wasn't hard to stake his claim on you, but he also knew you were hot. do you think dick grayson, the commodity that he was, would fuck somebody ugly? he's not that low. he has priorities for himself.

hickies weren't enough, though. did you think you were slick when he saw a video of you at another frat house, one outside of his own, grinding on a man who was plenty of social levels below dick? you thought he wouldn't find out that you're even more of a slut than he thought?

rather than a hand wrapped around your throat, he used manipulation to his advantage. with a sickeningly sweet voice, he bought you a necklace with his initials since you needed a tag like a puppy; now you know not to run away, right?

"marking your territory, huh?" his brother, wally laughs when he sees you sporting the chain with a prideful chest, gold falling between your tits. don't look too hard, that's dick's property now!

"had to," dick replies, unfazed. "nothing too serious, though." he reminds his brother from his seat in their shared house. but it's still not enough.

he wants you all to himself and it eats away at him. hickies continuing, sucking your face in public, it's not enough because you're still giving guys attention. 'just friends' his ass.

that's why, overtop of the gold chain, his hand covers your throat and pushes down hard. between hickey-covered thighs, his cock is stuffing you full with painfully slow movements.

"i gotta remind you?" he asks, long past acknowledging the fact that you can't speak from the force his hand holds around your windpipe. "whose cunt is this?" a strangled whine, and dick squeezes harder, a satisfied smile pulling his lips when he finally feels your pussy squeeze around his length.

he doesn't care about words; he cares about your cunt being carved into the shape of his cock. he cares about sculpting you like clay 'till any guy you wanna talk to can only smell dick on you. can only smell the expensive cologne he wears, can only smell the scent of his musk. 'till you're limping to all your finals, and there's not a second thought from your classmates who put you in that state; the infamous "DG" that's still hanging between your tits, that's who!

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 05

We're finally getting into some drama in this one (Yes i know it took forever) please enjoy!

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter warnings: Suggestive, ABO, reader in heat, cursing, pet names, manipulation?

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 

There was an intense warmth covering your back when you awoke the next morning. It was so comforting you almost lulled back to sleep. That is until you heard a raspy voice in your ear,

“Good morning, Omega.” 

Chan 

“Mmm” you grumbled, too caught up in his warmth. 

He smiled into your hair and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. You felt tingles all over your body at his affection. 

It was still hard to believe yesterday even happened. It feels like a fever dream, one you never wanted to wake from. You dug yourself further into the alpha's embrace, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 

You feel weird today. Still so, so happy, but there's an oddness you can’t quite place your finger on. All you know is that Chan being here is so comforting to you.  

“How did you sleep, baby?” He kept his voice low, he himself still riddled with sleep. 

You yawned, “Wonderful, Chan. I don’t think I have ever slept that good in my life.”

He hummed, “I’m so glad, omega. You needed your rest after all the stress you’ve been through the last few days.” He brushes the hair from you face and turns your body over to be underneath him now. “And you’ll need your energy for what's in store for you today.”  He smirked at seeing your face turn full red with blush. Did he mean we are gonna…

He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he spoke again “We’re going into town today to get you new clothes and toiletries.” He rolled off the bed. 

‘Oh, get your mind out of the gutter y/n.’ You scolded yourself mentally. Propping yourself up on your elbows you admired your alpha as he slipped his pj pants back over his hips. He must have taken them off to be more comfortable in the night. The thought of being in bed with him, when he has no clothes on, makes you wanna drool. Made you wish you knew, then maybe you could have done something about it. ‘Y/N what the fuck calm down’

Chan could feel your eyes on him, so he pulled up his bottoms extra slowly, being sure to give you a good look at his ass. He smirked when he turned around to you staring right at him. 

“Come on, Baby. You gotta get ready, I’m sure the boys are almost ready to head out.” He walked to the door, opening it to find your clothes from yesterday neatly folded and waiting. “Seungmin washed these for you last night, so you had something to wear today.” He set them on the bed for you. 

“Wow, that was so thoughtful of him!” You beamed. 

If only you knew how many times Seungmin pressed your dirty underwear to his nose, drinking in the pure scent of you. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Chan left you to get ready for the day while he went and did the same. After you fell asleep last night him and the pack texted about today's agenda. A few of them needed to go to town so it was the perfect time to take you shopping. Chan was confident no one in their small town would try anything with you, especially if they saw the pack around. 

There was a stack of bagels on the table waiting for you when you walked down the stairs about 15 minutes later. Jisung was seated there munching on his own when he noticed you and pulled out the chair next to him. “Hey my Baby! Wanna bagel?” 

“Good morning Jisung,” You giggled. It was literal music to his ears. “I would love one, thank you. “ 

You took a seat next to him as he plated one up for you, with a side of cream cheese and butter. 

“Are you ready to go shopping?” He asked with cheeks full of food. 

You took your own bite, “Yes! Are you coming with us today?” 

It was at that moment Chan entered the room, “Ah yes, actually Hannie is going to be the one to take you to get clothes. I have a few other matters to attend to in town.” He pressed a kiss to your head and lowered his voice when he sensed your anxiety “Alpha has some important things he needs to do, you’ll be a good omega and go shopping with Jisung, right?” He was pumping out pheromones to appease you and make you listen. It was certainly working. 

You nodded along with his words “Yes alpha.” 

He gave you a devilish grin “That's a good omega.” His words sent a deep shiver down your spine. 

Jisung watched your interaction with interest. So far you were everything he’d heard about omegas. Sweet, respectful, beautiful. You really were a good omega. It made him want to take care of you. 

“Who are we waiting on, Channie-hyung?” The beta asked after gulping down his bagel. 

Chan pulled out your chair for you when you were finished, “Seungmin and Felix, they are probably already in the car waiting for us. Bin and Hyun are already in town, they took Changbins car. Bin wanted to get some gym time and Hyunjin is teaching his weekly art class.” 

‘Aww Hyunjin really couldn’t get any more attractive’ You signed dreamily. 

“Are Minho and Jeongin not coming with us?” You asked Chan. 

“Nah Jeongin wasn’t feelin’ to well and Minho wants to get some house work in” You nodded. 

“Seungmin will yell at me if we make him wait any longer so let’s go!” Jisung bolted for the door and you both followed right behind him hand in hand. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

The ride to town took about 20 minutes, but it felt like it went by much quicker. You were sat shotgun while Chan drove, his hand resting on your thigh the entire time. His touch calmed the nerves you felt, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You still can’t shake this odd feeling. 

The 3 betas sat in the back, Seungmin bullying Jisung about making him wait and Felix laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. 

“It’s not my fault Seung! Channie is the one who came down last, Baby and i were ready!” His eyes found yours when you looked back at him, “right baby?!” 

“Hmmmmm” you pretended to think, Chan giving you an amused side eye, Jisung pleading with you to agree. “I don’t remember.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “Oh wait , I remember now! It’s all Alphas fault!” You pointed at Chan and Jisung let out a cheer. 

Seungmin was not as amused, “Don’t cover for him y/n, he’s always the late one.” 

A loud “Hey!” then a thumping sound was barely heard over all the laughter in the car. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

In town Chan had Jisung change spots with him to take you to the boutique, while Chan and the other two boys attended to their own business. Your alpha gave you a deep kiss before departing, his smirk on display at your flustered state. 

You and Jisung arrived a few minutes later at this small but very fashionable clothing store. 

The door chimed as you opened it, a voice from behind a counter calling to you “Be right with you dearies!”

Jisung held onto your hand as you walked a little further in. 

‘Wow there are so many options here!’ you thought, mouth wide open at the gorgeous selections. 

“What can I help you -“ an older woman approached but paused at the sight of you. 

You gave her a polite wave “Hello. I need some new

clothes please.” 

She was an old beta woman, probably around late 60s, with graying hair and a green boho dress. She was a very pretty woman. 

“Eun, this is y/n.” The woman only then seemed to notice Jisung with you. “She’s Chans mate.” 

That seemed to snap her out of her daze, a bright smile gracing her features, “That sly dog went and got himself an omega huh? And a gorgeous one at that!” She approached you and grabbed your face, getting a good look at you. The blush returned to your face and you made eyes at Jisung next to you. 

Jisung laughed and released your hand pulling you back slightly. “ Yes Eun, she’s new in our pack and needs a whole new wardrobe!” 

The elder beta clapped her hands excitedly. “You’ve come to the right place then! I’ve got quite the collection for you to try my dear.” She disappeared into the back once again. 

Jisung put both hands on your shoulders, giving them a rub to calm you. 

“Don’t mind Eun, Baby. She’s a little eccentric. She’s an old friend Chans family. Watched him and his family grow up, so she’s a little excited.” Ah that makes sense. 

Eun came rushing out with her arms full of clothes. She set them on a moving rack before shuffling it over to the fitting room in the corner. “I picked out a few things that I think you’ll love!” 

She grabbed your hand and hurried you to the fitting room, chucking a few outfits into the room with you, then taking a seat outside with Jisung, both waiting for you to model all the clothes for them. 

It took about 2 hours before you decided you had enough to last a lifetime. Actually you were done after picking one outfit, but Jisung just waved a credit card at you and told you to keep shopping. That he knew if you didn’t buy a lot then Chan would be mad at both of you. That made it easier to pick out stuff, knowing your alpha would be pleased. 

It was when you were checking out with Eun that you started to feel the ache in your lower belly. And the fire in your veins. You clutched your stomach with one arm, the other holding onto Jisung so you didn’t collapse. 

When Jisung went to ask you what was wrong, the most incredible scent he had ever smelled wafted out of you. His pupils were blown and his body went rigid. 

He used both hands to ground you and keep you from falling. “y/n.. w-what is happening?” He managed to get out. 

“She’s going into heat! You have to get her home now!” Eun had seen this before, she grew up with omegas. 

“Me?! Shouldn’t we go pick up Channie-hyung first?” The boy asked in pure panic. 

“No you need to take her straight home there is no time, don’t forget you're in a town with other alphas that can smell her just as well as you can.” 

That seemed to snap him out of it, hauling you up and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Eun, can you call Chan for me please? Just tell him I'm taking her straight home.”

Eun opened the door and helped Jisung load you into the car. “Will do! I’ll have someone fetch these clothes for her later. Be safe.” She shut you in and watched you drive off. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

Chan had paid a visit to the police station to speak with the sheriff while you were out shopping. Now was the perfect time to see what could be done about your missing persons status. 

He was assured by the sheriff that if you made a report that you're not missing, they can send the information over to the original sector and have you filed as not missing and end the investigation. Plus your current location would legally remain anonymous. 

Chan felt relieved by that, one less thing to worry about. That is, he was feeling relief until he received a very panicked call from Eun. 

“You need to get home right now Christopher!” She hollered as he answered the phone. 

He winced at her loud voice, “Ah, Eun what's going on?” 

“Your omega is in heat, that’s what the fuck is going on. She started right in the middle of checking out! Had to leave all the bags here!” 

Chan felt his heart stop and gut wrench. His omega was in heat . “Where is she now?”

“Han took her home, I told him not to stop for you and go straight there to avoid any trouble.” 

 “Thanks for letting me know. I gotta make a call.” With that he hung up on her. He would apologize later. First he had to get a ride home. 

The line rang a few times before Changbins voice answered, sounding out of breath. 

“What’s up bro? Finally wanna come join me in a workout?” His voice was teasing. 

“Changbin” Chans voice was hard, Alpha mode activated. “I need you to come get me from the police department right now. It’s y/n, she's in heat.” 

----------------------------------------------------------------

Your senses were on overload. You could smell everything. Every trace of the boy’s previously in the car, every trace of Chan. And you could especially smell Jisung. Your hands kept finding his shirt, trying to tug him closer as he drove but he (regretfully) had to keep pushing you away. You’re gonna be the death of me he had said to you when the tugging began. 

You hadn’t had a heat in years, not since you presented as an omega for the first time. After that you had been on high quality suppressants, causing you to not have a heat while taking them. That must be why this one came on so quickly. It had been days since you’ve taken any. Being in a house full of men, with your alpha, your body is going into overdrive. It was so bad, you felt as though you had no control over your body or urges. It was acting on its own at this point.  It was making you delirious and feral.

Jisung sped as quickly as possible, while still keeping you safe, to get home. He made it there in record time, tires screeching to a stop outside the door. Even with you grabbing at him he managed to slip out of the driver's seat, bolting around the vehicle to open your door and gently guide you out. When his hands made contact with the skin on your waist when you shirt rode up, you let out a whimpering moan. You would be humiliated about that later. 

Jisung felt his boner grow in his pants. 

‘what the fuck what the fuck’ He was screaming internally, wanting to just take you there on the ground outside. He knew he couldn’t do that though. You were Chans first and foremost. His alpha. He would never disrespect him or you that way. 

“Come on my baby, we gotta get you to your room.” At the mention of him taking you to your room you found your footing and let him lead you inside. 

Stepping through the threshold the first thing you could sense was an alpha. 

Jeongin made his way into the entry to see what the commotion was about , when he stopped right in his tracks. He didn’t know what was happening to him but he raced to your side. 

“No no no no!” Jisung saw the young alpha coming at you and tried to stop him. “Jeongin wait, don’t!” 

He didn’t hear a word though, pushing Jisung off of you and cornering you into the wall beside him. 

At the presence of the alpha in front of you, you let out a long whine, hands reaching out and grasping his shirt. 

Jeongin presses his nose into the gland on your neck where your aroma was emanating from the heaviest. 

“Innie! You have to stop!!” Jisung yelled in his panic, but was only answered by the younger man’s deep growl. 

“Omega….” Jeongin inhaled you, wanting to devour you whole. Never in his life had he wanted something more. He could almost taste you on his tongue.

“Jeongin!” Jisung screamed out again, “You have to st-“ 

“Stop!” Came a loud bellow, then strong hands ripped Jeongin from your body, tossing him to Changbin. 

It was Chan. It was your Alpha. 

Tears leaked from you at the sight of him. He was furious, not at you, but at the situation. At the sight of your dizzy appearance he hoisted you over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. Just in time for Minho to come running from his room upstairs. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He demanded, but one look at the situation told him all he needed to know. 

Chan yelled back to Minho “Help changbin get Jeongin out of here! In fact all of you need to stay out for a few days! We can’t have any repeats of what just happened.” 

Minho nodded in agreement, “You're right. I'll make sure everyone stays away.”  

Changbin was trying to force the younger alpha outside, into the fresh air away from you. It took all his will power to resist you himself, so it was a real struggle to try and reel in Jeongin. Changbin was lucky he had the self control he had, or he would be just like Jeongin. That's not to say it was easy for the alpha, no no, his body was aching for a taste of you.

Minho was herding them both along, Jisung following behind. “Come on guys, it’s alright. Let’s just get out of here and clear our minds huh?” He won’t deny he was affected by you as well. The tastiest thing he had ever experienced. It pissed him off that this ordeal was even happening, though. ‘I knew she would cause fucking problems’ he thought bitterly. Being the ever so responsible one, Min loaded everyone in the van and went to fetch the other remaining members. Time to find a place to crash for a few days. This blows.

A/N; Finallllyyy a little bit of drama! As always, I would love to hear what yall think!

Please do not copy or steal my writing and content! Reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated tho!

doitforbangchan©

TAGLIST-

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[korkorali]

The Misogyny of It All

So a lot of Della Duck Discourse is rehashed all the time, points are made again and again, but one thing that I almost never see people defend -and conversely, see people attack all the time- is The Line.

You know what I'm talking about. The Line from Glomtales.

"Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you want to be a part of this family, you've gotta stop."

That one.

Now, what exactly Della was trying to get across with that line is a whole other can of worms that deserves its own post (basically she -and also the writers- horribly failed her Speech check).

What we're going over here is how that mimics a certain line from the last season, said by a parental figure to a child, that gets so much less flack. That, in fact, often gets paraded around as 'an interesting twist on a character.'

"You are not family!"

I have never seen people attack this line with the same amount of vitriol as they attack Della's, which is funny when they're the exact same line.

Actually, not even that- Scrooge's is worse.

It's more direct, it's literally yelled at Webby, it doesn't even attempt to address the issue Scrooge had (Webby blaming him for what happened to Della) and instead just straight-up attacks her as a person.

Now, to be fully honest- I like this line! I do genuinely think it's an interesting route for Scrooge to take, and is quite realistic to the grumpy old bastard. It's just funny that nobody ever comes to Webby's defense the same way they do for Louie.

Because the thing is- between Webby and Louie, one of these two has genuine, canonical issues with feeling like they're not a part of the family, like they're an outsider amongst those they love the most, like they don't belong.

And it's not Louie.

It is a consistent part of Webby's characterization that she feels like she doesn't belong. This gets touched on in all three seasons (and honestly, it could be argued that it gets worse after this moment).

Conversely, that just is not a part of Louie's canonical characterization. Even in the first episode of season 2, the one where Louie gets the closest to an 'I don't belong in this family' moment, it's less 'I don't belong here' and more 'fuck me I am terrible at adventuring'. And! It gets resolved in that episode!

(Of course, there is absolutely something to be said for how it's resolved- specifically by Scrooge encouraging him to be a scheming little bastard, which then thusly becomes the thing that threatens his family the most. Which would, logically, be a pretty big blow to his self-esteem. This isn't what I'm here to discuss right now but it is genuinely interesting.)

Louie never really shows an issue with feeling like he doesn't belong in his family. He shows a disconnect with his family at times, but in canon that never really evolves into a full-blown feeling of displacement. It does get close in Glomtales, but never quite reaches it.

So it's 'interesting' (read: not interesting) that Scrooge's fuckup here gets brushed away pretty easily. A lot of the time the line just straight-up isn't addressed, and when it is, often times it's about how "Oh he apologized to Webby offscreen, obviously."

Which.

Not he did not.

I mean, let me be clear: I don't mind it when that's the answer. It works for me to just brush it away if it's not meant to be the focus...

But Scrooge almost certainly didn't apologize for it.

As 'New Gods on the Block!' Showed us, Scrooge is downright awful at realizing when his actions have hurt people.

More likely than not, Scrooge would just assume that everything is fine and would avoid bringing it up at all costs because he'd feel awkward about it. Because he is, very importantly, not good at talking about things he doesn't want to talk about.

So why is it that Louie is always the one feeling like he doesn't belong? Why is it Della who is always a terrible parent for what she's said? Why are Webby's feelings of disconnect never really given the same gravity as Louie's? Why is Scrooge's blunder let off the hook super easily?

It just feels silly to me.

And, well.

Kinda like the fact that, since Scrooge is a guy and Webby's a girl, and Della is a woman and Louie's a boy, has something to do with it.

I'll happily give the benefit of the doubt and assume it's not deliberate, but quite frankly it is a double standard.

I think that people would be less upset with the Della Duck Discourse if Scrooge was held in a similarly critical position over what he's said and done. If it was acknowledged that Della isn't uniquely awful in what she says and does, and that a lot of the others have fucked up in extremely similar ways.

(I mean for fuck's sake, everybody goes on and on about how Della left her kids for ten years -which, for the record, wasn't what she wanted to do- but nobody ever criticizes Donald for taking the kids away from their family and never talking to them about Della- which is something he actively and deliberately chose to do)

TL;DR: The fact that Della gets intensely criticized for what she's said and done, but Donald and Scrooge are conversely celebrated as 'interesting' and 'complex' for what they've said and done, even when it brings harm to the kids, is a blatant double-standard. And if you don't think that this double-standard is bad or wrong for existing (or even that it Doesn't Actually Exist), instead of immediately claiming that it's a non-issue, maybe try to look inward and figure out why you really think that is.

[just-antithings]

To all the people yelling about people "not writing enough f/f or even just women in general": Trying to write female canon characters is exhausting af. There's often so much baked in misogyny that one has to try to either write around or avoid or worse: actively choose to keep. And that means doing emotional labor of plunging yourself into that, for free, for people who will scream at you that you did it wrong anyways. Most slash fans are women, or people otherwise affected by misogyny. Women who don't want to try to wrangle a character out of a mess of misogynistic tropes. Especially when they're almost certainly going to be yelled at about how they're doing it wrong. (If they get feedback at all). People demanding more people write female characters and femslash (for free) are demanding some pretty damn intense emotional labor from, most often, other women. Of wading into the characters and trying to navigate the misogyny baked into a lot of them. Try to extract Kairi Kingdom Hearts from the misogyny baked into her character: actually really think about it. And then think about what parts you need to keep in order for the story you're writing to still work. Or think about what parts you need to remove and how that will affect what you're writing. Say you're writing a canon-compliant Kindgom Hearts fic. If you remove the misogyny to the best of your ability: will that change things in a way that means your fic is no longer canon compliant? Do you expect someone to think about that and do it for you? For free? When they are writing for fun in their spare time and could instead grab Saix or Sora and NOT have to dive into misogyny?

And even when people DO take the time to perform the emotional labor and time and energy to wade through the misogyny baked into some of these characters? Chances are they'll see a much lower viewer turnout. Readers don't want to risk tripping over bad writing or misogynistic tropes, either. And if they do get a turnout... chances are it's going to be someone telling them they Did it Wrong. When people give one-note female characters actual nuance, readers throw fits. If they don't write pure soft and tender uwu f/f people (especially antis) throw fits. Write a villain AU? People lose their shit. Write a toxic relationship between women? People lose their shit. Explore a dynamic that is anything beside perfect sweet innocent sexless uwu and you're likely to get eaten alive for being "fetishistic". And frankly, even the perfect sweet innocent sexless uwu is likely to get you accused of some shit.

If you want more femslash or just female characters to be explored more in general, you guys have GOT to start being real fucking normal about people who DO write it, and also writing more of it all yourselves. You have to start letting people do badly at it. You have to start letting people be fucked up about it. You have to start actually helping others write sex between two women. You have to start being normal about female characters, yourselves.

And you gotta accept that if you're not willing to do the work yourself, you can't get upset that no one else is willing to, either.

👆👆👆👆

[why4anne]

Daylight

Part: 7/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2022

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, ellenpompeo and 645 943 others

theathletesgala:

Musical guest and award presenter Y/N L/N is in the building. She's wearing a stunning Versace gown and a killer cat eye.

view comments:

yourusername: 🫶🫶

y/nenjoyer: she looks STUNNING!!

girlypopy/n: Dare I say... Revenge dress?

vintagel/n: Oh, definitely!

holyleclerc: It's giving Princess Diana

lonely4lifer: Charles, look at what you lost

havemyleclerc: She is the one who fumbled

summery/n: Y/N lost a second tier F1 driver, Charles lost global pop icon, highest streamed female artist, the woman, the myth, the legend Y/N L/N

leclerctingzz: He's not a second tier F1 driver, he's the future of Ferrari

ubery/n: How many WDC?

childofdivorce: Auntie Blake pick me up I'm scared

lewishamilton: @/donatella_versace you outdid yourself with this dress

donatella_versace: Donatella VERSACE💜

theathletesgala:

liked by lewishamilton, simonebiles and 426 392 others

theathletesgala:

It's a star-studded event here tonight. Multiple athletes have now made their way onto the red carpet including:

Formula 1 drivers Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, Footballers Neymar and Alex Morgan, Gymnast Simone Biles, Figure-skater Tessa Virtue and NFL Quarterback Joe Burrow

Keep your eyes open for your favorite athlete to arrive!

view comments:

joeyb_9: Such a well organized event!

lewishamilton: Blessed to be here🙏

charles_leclerc: Happy to be included❤️

alexmorgan13: This will be so much fun

moreleclerc: Putting Neymar and Charles beside each other is CRAZY

lilttley/n: Okay but can we talk about how both Lewis Hamilton AND Joe Burrow interacted on the post about Y/N earlier??

gemmal/n: Y/N now has the chance to do the funniest thing ever and get with Max Verstappen

home4l/n: STOP- that would be too iconic

justleclerc: The world is not ready for that sort of chaos

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, badgalriri and 742 674 others

theathletesgala:

Miss Y/N L/N what a performance!🙌👏

view comments:

heavenlyy/n: Mother did not come to play tonight!

realy/nfan: fr! She saw that both of her exes were in attendance and said "hold my wine glass"

unifiedy/n: Singing ATW and you're loosing me back to back while STARING at table number 12 (Charles and Neymar's table) is absolutely FOUL!

justl/nthingz: She's so cunty, I love it!

l/ny/nfavorite: Okay but why is no one talking about how she literally sang silver springs by Fleetwood Mac and in true Stevie Nicks fashion was glaring daggers into Charles while doing so!!!!!???

bluey/n: next level balls frfr!

bobbiey/n: Okay but that outfit??? Mother ATE!🔥

holyl/n: Ass out and everything for Charles to see🤭

justy/nfans: I just know that that man will go home and cry himself to sleep tonight

celebritynews

Liked by 202 392 people

celebritynews:

After receiving an anonymous tip from a reliable source, it seems as if Y/N L/N left the athletes gala after party with one of the guests of the night. Who it was is still unclear but stay tuned on celebritynews for more information!

view comments:

summery/n: This girl is a wag at heart

flowersbyl/n: That's so true! She does love her athletes😭

y/nleftpinkynail: Honestly she's so real for that😍

l/nbyy/n: Just like me fr!

chad.larsen: She's such a slut!🙄

leclerc_l/n: Bro GTFO with your musty ass comments!!🤢

brianyoung: Watch out whoever it is. She's gonna write a song about you😵‍💫

littley/n: It's almost like THAT'S HER FUCKING JOB???🤯

greenflowers: misogyny☕️

l/nhouse: Okay but who was it???!!!!

justagirl: I think it was Joe Burrow, did you see how he was looking at her while she was performing??😍

godlyy/n: I hope with my entire being that it's Max Verstappen💀

slayvettel: That would be too iconic!!

icemanfan: Y'all tripping, it's gotta be Lewis!

heavenlyy/n: HOLD UP! What if it was Neymar??

yourusername

liked by blakelively, nicorosberg and 6 582 194 others

yourusername:

cellphone on silent📱❌

comments are disabled:

Tag-list: @mindflay3r @karmabyfernando @lightdragonrayne @ilove-tswizzle @sadg3 @sassyheroneckgiant @c-losur3 @spideybv28 @boiohboii @charizznorizz @amel1ee @loloekie @sunny44 @janeholt3 @berrnuu

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Eijiro Kirishima - I Could Kiss You

Summary: When you finally get offered a new work study under your first pick, Fat Gum, you know exactly who is responsible.

Warnings: Pure fluff, mentions of a toxic work relationship, mentions of misogyny, short/rushed, possibly OOC Shishido

You sighed, gripping the letter tightly in between your fingers. A part of you was relieved to read the words 'Employment Contract Termination Notice' at the head of the page, but something about the implications brewed something awful in your gut. The few months you'd spent under Shishido had been hellish and were were happy it was over but this also meant that, not only were you out of a job, you were out of a way to earn the work study credits you needed to pass the semester.

"Ah, nice," A familiar, chipper voice called from behind you. "About time!" Kirishima cheered, a hand on your shoulder as he read the letter over your shoulder.

"I guess so," you shugged his hand away dismissively.

"What do you mean?" He asked, growing more concerned at your lack of joy. "That guy's an ass, aren't you happy Nezu was able to terminate your contract?"

"I am, really," you answered with a sigh, plopping down on the common room couch. "Maybe it wasn't that bad..."

"Not that bad?" He snorted, sitting down with you, knees far apart as he leaned forward. "He treated you like a secretary. He took Ojiro and Sato out on patrols and made you stay at the office, that's not fair at all."

Kirishima wasn't wrong. It was an open secret at Shishido Agency that you were a diversity hire. The hero tended to avoid hiring interns who didn't fit a specific archetype, and he rarely ever hired women. But his contract with the school came under scrutiny when it was realized that he hadn't hired a single female student since the year after his agency opened. You were the only one who had applied to work for him, thus your employment began.

Your days after school were spent checking his emails, getting him coffee, answering his fanmail, and the like. Your classmates who worked under him would always flash you apologetic smiles as they headed out for patrol with him. "I'm sure you'll go with us next time, (Y/N)..." Ojiro would offer sheepishly on his way out the door. "Yeah, plus you're lucky, now you can get paid to just chill!" Sato would add, much to your chagrin.

"Well, in any case," Kirishima grinned, hoping to lift your spirits a bit. "Now you can start looking for a new hero to intern under!"

"Shishido was the only one who accepted me," you groaned, throwing your head back against the backboard of the couch. "I applied to like everyone I could think of."

"And nobody sent you any offers?" He asked, grimacing at your plite.

"Nope," you answered, exhausted. "Some of them never even replied." You admitted, repositioning on the couch, throwing your legs over his as you settled in. "God, 'Shima, your so lucky to get to work with Fat Gum. He was my first choice." You casually mention, cracking open a textbook to start on some homework.

"Oh yeah?" He askes with a smirk, interest piqued.

"Yeah," you smile softly. "He's always been my favorite pro, ever since I was a kid."

"Did you apply to him?" He suddenly asked, resting his hands on your shins.

"Obviously," you answered snarkily. "He was the first one I applied to."

"And?" He leaned in curiously, as if the answer wasn't glaringly obvious.

"He didn't ever respond." you sighed, turning the page of your book, a sadness gleaming in your eyes.

"Maybe you should reapply." He suggested, oddly excited as the conversation continued. "You never know! Maybe he'd take you this time around!"

"I doubt it," you rolled your eyes as you peered up at him. "I'll have to reapply to everyone though, so I might as well."

"Listen, I gotta go get ready for work." He suddenly jumped up, throwing your legs off him, earning a glare from you. "S-Sorry'bout that, but hey, I'll see you later, okay?"

-----

Once again, you stood there, tightly gripping a letter, the paper crinkling under your trembling fingers. In disbelief, you held it tightly to your chest, repeating it's contents over and over in your head. Finally gathering your bearings, you darted for the door, drifting into the hallway towards the common space.

"Kirishima!" You squealed, prompting the redhead to poke his head out of the kitchen in a panic, puffed cheeks full of half-chewed banana.

"(Y/N)! What's up?" he worried, setting the rest of his snack on the counter, looking you over for possible injury. "You good? You're shaking."

"I got in!" you shrieked, joyous tears pricking your eyes.

His face scrunched in confusion as he tilted his head before suddenly realizing. "Oh my God!" He hollered, sweeping you up into a laugher-filled hug, spinning you as your feet left the ground. "Fat Gum offered you a position?! I told you he would, hell yeah!"

You snickered as he raved with you, setting you back down on the floor, arms still wrapped securely around you. "Oh stop, I know you talked to him."

"W-What?" He paled, pulling away slightly. "N-No, of course not!" He laughed nervously. "I-I mean, you applied to Fat Gum? I didn't even know! I-"

"Eijrio," you stopped him dead in his tracks with a soft smile and the uttering of his given name. "You're a terrible liar..."

"I-I know..." he finally relented with a sheepish smile. "Are you mad at me?"

You couldn't stifle your laugh. "Mad at you? 'Shima, I'm overjoyed." You reassured beaming. "I'm literally so happy I could kiss you!"

You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, frozen in his grasp, watching rouge crawl up his throat and across his cheeks. His dumbstruck expression made your heart sink and you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

"Y-You mean that?" He finally asked, face never changing. You nodded hesitantly before shaking it furiously.

"I-It's just an expression, I-I didn't-" You were silenced by his calloused hand reaching up to cup your cheek and the pad of his thumb brushing across your lip.

"If you're too nervous to do it, I can kiss you..." he suggested lowly, already leaning in, crimson eyes half-lidded and flickering from yours to your pouty lips. You nodded wordlessly, also closing the distance.

"Y-You can kiss me, if you want." you whispered against his lips, simply earning a nod from him as your lips met at last, briefly and sweetly.

After a moment, Kirishima pulled away, forehead pressed to yours and he murmured to you softly, still cradling your face. "If this is my reward, just tell me what else I can do to make you happy..." he said with a toothy grin.

"It's not a reward," you confessed with an equally saccharine tone. "I would have taken any excuse to kiss you..."

"Is that right?" he laughed, pulling you flush against him, head dipping down to catch your lips again, this time for much longer. "Guess I'll have to keep giving you excuses then, huh?" he teased in between kisses.

Suddenly, a grumpy voice boomed from behind the pair of you, causing you to both jump, holding each other tightly, as if caught with your hands in the cookie jar. "Can you two take this shit elsewhere? You're literally right in front of the fucking fridge."

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 6/12)

HIII this ones a bit spicy, but buckle in, decided to take a little turn in this part so don't hate me <3

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie realizes his true feelings for you just a little too late

contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, more jealous!eddie, masturbation (m), mentions of oral (f receiving), and eddie being a dick <3

word count: 4.2k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

A 4/4 kick drum is beating in Eddie’s head when he wakes up.

Eddie still hasn’t learned his lesson when trying to outdrink Jeff, so he fails every time, no matter what, because Jeff is a fucking canteen of a human. Eddie does stupid things when he gets as drunk as last night, but the good thing about being blackout drunk is you remember nothing, so there’s not much to regret and cringe about.

There’s a show tonight, and Eddie has to take Wayne to the airport, so unfortunately, Eddie can’t spend the day recovering in his bed, and he’s forced to drag himself out of bed and rinse off the sour smell of alcohol and sex from his skin.

Breakfast has definitely passed, and Eddie curses the crew for not waking him up because his stomach growls as he turns the shower on. As Eddie prepares to hop in the shower, he thinks over what little events he can remember from yesterday because why not torture himself with the embarrassment?

A particular memory doesn’t hit Eddie until he’s halfway through his shower, but god, when it does, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Kissing you and pressing into you so close he could’ve sworn he felt the racing beat of your heart against his chest. The feeling of you beneath his fingertips, your hips grinding down onto his with those sinful and pretty sounds falling from your lips and onto his. The taste of your skin bursting in every inch of Eddie’s mouth and the overwhelming desire for more, more, more.

Eddie can’t help it with his head pounding and spinning with the lustful memory of you. He can’t help it when his hands stop doing the job of washing his body and start roaming instead. Can’t help it when his mind starts making up all these different scenarios of him fucking you as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, stroking up once and running his thumb over the head.

He hisses at the sensitive touch, eyes fluttering as he adjusts his grip and begins stroking himself. The shower wall is cool against his back when he shifts to lean against it, the sharp contrast of the cold wall and steaming hot water hitting his chest and rolling onto his cock, sending shivers up his spine.

Eddie lets his mind wander. He thinks about you and how he wants to pull more of those pretty sounds from you. He wants to lick into your mouth and sink his fingers into you so he can taste your moans as he plays with you. He wants to see how wet he can get you with just his fingers before you’re asking for more. He wants to unwrap you like a present and lay you down to part your thighs and sink to his knees, part your folds, and marvel at the way you drip and throb for him. And Eddie wonders if you would let him taste you. He wonders if you would let him suck pretty marks into your thighs until you’re whining and begging him to give you something. 

“What do you want, princess? Gotta tell me what you want first.” 

Eddie doesn’t even get far enough to think about sinking his cock into you before he’s cumming in spurts, white sticky ropes of cum splattering onto the shower floor as he curses and moans, chest heaving and wet hair sticking to his flushed cheeks. And Eddie’s cock is always sensitive in the morning, but he can’t seem to stop stroking himself with the image of you in his mind because fuck, he wants you, even if it’s almost painful.

And he hates that.

He hates that he wants you. Hates that he thinks about you all the way through his second orgasm— hates that he doesn’t stop thinking about you even after the fact. He hates that he thinks about you as he finishes showering and gets dressed for the day. He hates Jeff for barging in and ruining whatever could’ve happened between you two yesterday. He hates that he remembers thinking about you when he was fucking Lany into his hotel bed last night. And he hates that he can still smell her on his sheets because all Eddie wants to smell, see, hear, and touch is you. And he fucking hates it.

Yet, his chest blooms when he sees you at rehearsal. He gets that weird feeling in his chest where warmth spreads like a firework and bounces around his insides— and he gets so distracted that he fucks up a chord on the riff he was playing. No one seems to notice, so he pays no mind and keeps watching you.

And Eddie thinks about what Wayne told him this morning as they shared a quick hug before final departure, “Don’t chase that girl away, son. She’s good.”

Eddie chose not to think too hard about what Wayne meant by that.

He’s thankful he decided to wear sunglasses today because Eddie can’t seem to take his eyes off you. You look good, the way you styled your hair is different, and you’re wearing flared jeans that wrap around your ass and thighs perfectly with a fitted white top that hugs you in all the right places; Eddie, for some selfish reason, wants to believe you wore that to grab his attention. Mission accomplished.

You wander off somewhere near the end, and Eddie tries not to seem too eager when rehearsal wraps up, but he makes a beeline toward Richie and asks where you went.

Richie is too busy to ask why Eddie’s asking about you, but his questioning tone isn’t hidden when he tells Eddie you went to the snack room.

Eddie’s chest does that weird thing again when he walks into the room, fingers itching at the memory of how it felt to hold your hand. You’re standing over the snack table with your back facing Eddie when he walks up, clearing his throat to grab your attention. He frowns when you don’t turn around, but then Eddie realizes you have headphones covering your ears, so he gently taps your shoulder.

You seem startled when you turn to him, wide and pretty eyes blinking in realization as you remove your headset. “Were you saying something?” You ask.

Eddie says the first thing that comes to mind, “What are you listening to?” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Um, Cass Elliot.”

Hippie shit.

You turn around to grab water from the table, and Eddie thinks this may be a bad idea because he doesn’t even know what he wants to say to you. Usually, Eddie is the one to give short and dead responses because he can’t stand you, but for the first time since he’s met you, the roles are reversed.

“Think we can finish that interview? Before the show, maybe?” Eddie asks. And god, this is embarrassing— he needs a smoke.

You turn to him again and shrug, “Nah, I think I've got enough on everyone now. I really only need the group interview now. See you tonight!”

And then you’re gone.

And Eddie thinks, what the fuck?

This isn’t how things are supposed to go. Eddie is the snippy one, and you’re the sweet one that’s way too nice to Eddie despite his disgusting attitude and bitchy personality. 

Eddie’s bothered for the entire day, catching glimpses of you talking to band and crew members and James— fucking James. 

Eddie wants to believe what you said yesterday, “No, nothing is going on between me and James.” but does James know nothing is going on between the two of you? Because it doesn’t fucking look like he does. Not when he keeps leaning in to talk to you, or when he shares a bag of chips with you, or when he’s practically attached to your hip for the entire day.

It’s pathetic, really, the way James is fiending for every second of your attention, and it pisses Eddie off that you’re buying into it. Showtime rolls around, and Eddie does a few lines with the band to get himself amped up before stepping on stage and playing like hell. Eddie keeps his eye on you throughout the show, and he pays the price when he sees James teaching you how to use his camera, wrapping his arms around your frame and whispering instructions in your ear as you test out taking pictures of the stage. Eddie’s chest stirs with something he doesn’t quite enjoy, and it only intensifies when he sees James drop a hand to gently rest against your hip, watching as a smile stretches across your lips in excitement when you show him the picture you’d captured. 

Eddie pops a string when he sees it happen, cursing into his mic, shoving his guitar pick between his lips, and angrily removing the guitar to quickly swap it out with the spare one handed to him from the side stage. Eddie plays the rest of the show with an angry heat running through his body, and he thinks you might be doing this on purpose. Flirting around with James right in his face to make him jealous, and Eddie swears he won’t fall for whatever shitty plan this is, but fuck, do you play dirty.

You never join the band in their post-show shenanigans, but tonight, you decide to tag along for some reason— or rather, someone. 

Fucking James.

Eddie thinks he should just fire him at this rate. Get rid of the problem at the root and burn the stem so it never returns because fuck James. He makes you laugh, he’s gentle with you, and he can sweet talk like a motherfucker, and Eddie knows that because he’s been on the receiving end before— he’s well aware of James and his undeniable charm. And he can’t believe you’re falling for it.

Eddie takes endless shots, trying to blur out the distasteful sight of you pressed against James’ side in the booth, talking about god knows what. The night ends relatively early since everyone is a bit tired from the day and the longer day they have planned for tomorrow, so everybody is in their respective rooms by the time the clock strikes one in the morning. But Eddie can’t seem to fall asleep— especially not with the knowledge that James definitely didn’t go to his room but instead followed you into your room. Eddie doesn’t like that.

Eddie paces his room for some time before he breaks and finds himself knocking on your door. You don’t answer for a moment, and Eddie suddenly thinks he might be strong enough to knock down a heavy oak wood door. Maybe Eddie shouldn’t have smoked before coming here. He always swears the weed will take the edge off, but in reality, it makes him dumber and more impulsive than before, as seen a few days ago when he was right in the same position— knocking on your door at an ungodly hour of the night.

Eddie raises a hand to knock again, but he’s relieved of the job when you swing the door open in nothing but a white robe, drops of water running down the sides of your neck and dripping between the valley of your chest. Eddie wants to drink up every last drop.

“Is James in here?” Eddie asks.

And maybe Eddie shouldn’t have started with that because now you look like you want to punch him in the throat. Your eyebrows furrow as your face twists in a look of annoyance, “You seriously have a fucking problem, Eddie.” You snap. 

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you always come here in the middle of the night to ask me stupid questions?” You ask.

Eddie glances over your shoulder, scanning the room for any signs of a dark-haired and tattooed man, but he finds none and seems to find some ease in that. You step into his line of sight, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and Eddie blinks. “I thought you two weren’t a thing.” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“This again? Honestly, why do you care, Eddie?” Your tone teeters on the edge of impatience, and Eddie steps closer, the clean scent of your body wash invading his senses. “Are you?”

“No. I already told you, again, not that it’s any of your business—” “Does James know that?” He cuts you off.

You blink at Eddie in confusion, “What?”

Eddie’s getting tired of repeating himself because he knows you can hear him loud and clear, and you’re just avoiding giving him an answer. Eddie steps closer, practically inside your room and towering over you, and he can’t help it when his eyes dart to your lips and the clear view of your damp chest. “Does James know that you’re not into him?” He repeats.

You gaze up at Eddie, eyes narrowing as you repeat your question from earlier, “Why do you care?”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Eddie grumbles, fingers curling into the palms of his hands to restrain from reaching out and touching you. And you’re making it so hard, standing there and gazing up at him with these eyes that dare him to do something— reach out, touch me, feel me.

You tilt your head as you speak, a sly grin dancing across your lips, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” You mock.

Eddie laughs softly and humorlessly, “Why would I be jealous of him, princess?” He hums, stepping closer once again, forcing you to step back into the entryway of your room to make room for Eddie to step in fully. His gaze falls again, and you run the tip of your tongue along your bottom lip, “Does he know what you feel like?” Eddie asks. “What I feel like?”

Eddie mindlessly shuts the door behind him, the air thickening with tension in the room as he inches a little closer. So close and yet not close enough. “Yeah. Does he know what your pretty moans sound like? Does he know how you taste, hm?”

You’re sharing breaths now, so close to one another that your lips are brushing against his as you speak, “Do you know how I taste?” You tease. Eddie hums, “Not the best part.”

He presses his lips to yours, soft moans leaving you both at the sudden contact as he finally reaches out and lets his hands roam your body. The robe you have on is thick and soft, but it’s not what Eddie wants to touch. He wants to feel the warmth of your skin and squeeze and grab at the soft and thick parts of you until you moan for more. 

You blindly stumble further into your room, lips busy moving against one another with tongues fighting for dominance. And Eddie thinks you give the most addicting kisses he’s ever had; every movement is right and sends bursts of colors behind his eyelids, sloppy and wet but so fucking good to the point where he wishes he could kiss you forever. 

“The best part?” You manage to say between kisses. Eddie hums in distracted confusion, advancing to kiss you harder as you drop onto your bed. Eddie towers over you, palms sinking into the plush material of the comforter. “What’s the best part?” You ask.

Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk, smattering kisses down your neck as his fingers dance across your robe to the loose knot holding it closed. He moves back to kiss you as he tugs on the fluffy, thick string, and you gasp against his lips when his cool fingers sneak into the open robe and skim across your warm stomach. “The best part,” Eddie begins, leaning down to nip at your jaw as his hands roam your bare skin. “The best part is what’s sitting between these pretty thighs of yours, sweetheart.” He sucks at the skin of your neck, and you mewl as his fingers squeeze at your thigh, pushing your knees apart to open you up for him.

And Eddie has every intention to fuck you right now. He’s been dreaming about what it’d be like to lick into your sweet cunt, to sink his cock in you and watch as every coherent thought melts from your brain, to make you cum over and over until you’re begging him to stop.

But suddenly, you’re pushing Eddie away, a shaky palm pressing into his chest as your thighs squeeze shut, “I-I can’t,” you shake your head, “You have a girlfriend.”

And well, this is news to Eddie. “I have a what now?”

Your lips are pouty and cute, and Eddie wants to go back to kissing you, but you’re wriggling your way out from beneath him and padding across the floor to your desk. Eddie sits on the edge of your messy bed, palming his neglected cock as he watches you grab a newspaper and walk back over to him. He tries his best not to stare at the sway of your breasts beneath your open robe or the cute little panties he gets a glimpse of, but he fails and throbs beneath the palm of his hand. You stand in front of him with a frown, handing the paper to Eddie as he gazes up at you with wide eyes and swollen lips.

Eddie isn’t sure what this is, and the only thing running through his mind is the incessant need to get off, but he humors you anyway and snatches the paper with a look of boredom. You adjust your robe back around your body and cinch it tighter than before, and Eddie mentally mourns the loss of his moment to finally see those pretty tits you’ve been teasing beneath those tight shirts of yours. He flips the newspaper upright and grazes over the page until he sees it— “Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson, new girlfriend debut!”

It’s a blown-up picture of Eddie leaving the club, a drunken and sly smirk plastered across his lips with a pretty little redhead he likes to frequently fuck wrapped around his arm— Lany.

Summer of ‘87 Corroded Coffin went on their very first tour. It was three months long, only covered about four states, and was mostly a shitshow, but the boys were just happy to have booked an actual tour— something bigger than The Hideout. 

Groupies didn’t come around until about halfway through the tour— and look, Eddie had his fair share of men and women by that time, but it was different when they were practically throwing themselves at Eddie, and he didn’t have to work for it.

Lany was Eddie’s first groupie. Sweet and pretty with a silky smooth voice and a wicked mouth that blew Eddie’s little inexperienced mind. Lany and her group of friends tagged along with Corroded Coffin for the rest of their tour, and when Eddie asked Lany where he could find her, Lany simply responded with a sweet, “I’m never where I should be, you know that. I’ll find you when you go big.” And a kiss.

And she did. Eddie didn’t see Lany for years until their second world tour and they were now on their fifth, so it’s safe to say, Lany is a fucking veteran of a groupie.

But Lany isn’t Eddie’s girlfriend. 

Far from it, actually, and Eddie’s not sure why the paparazzi are all of a sudden interested in whatever groupies he’s fucking because they usually could care less. Nothing is interesting about Eddie Munson fucking a random girl nobody knows, so who gave them the idea that they’re not only fucking, but dating?

Despite the confusion reeling through Eddie’s mind, something else overtakes and he snickers, glancing up at you with a smug grin, “You been reading up on me, sweetheart?” He teases.

Your expression switches to one of annoyance as you snatch the newspaper out of his hands, ignoring the smirk plastered across his lips as you huff, “No, I— it came with the room service I ordered.” You fold your arms over your chest.

Eddie’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he stands up and steps toward you, tilting his head tauntingly as he speaks, “And you read it, and what? Got jealous?”

Eddie has you trapped against the edge of your desk now, and his fingers skim the warmth of your fingers as he takes the paper from your hand. “This is fake news, princess.” He says with a mocking glint in his eye. He tosses the piece onto the desk and you glance at it, a frown etched deep into your lips. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Eddie assures you, leaning forward to smear kisses across your jaw. You shift beneath him, finger coming up to dig into the flexing muscle of his arms as he snakes his hands around your hips, pulling you closer. “She’s at every show. And you go out together all the time.” You point out beneath a needy breath.

“Because she’s a groupie, sweetheart. She goes everywhere I go, that’s kind of the point.”

Eddie rucks you up against him, sucking another bruise into your skin and reeling at the noise you make. “That’s mean…” You mumble, and Eddie laughs against your skin. “It’s not mean if it’s the definition.” He argues.

“So what, you got jealous of a groupie? You want a chance to be my groupie, hm? That’s why you’re upset, princess?” He noses at the skin below your ear before licking the spot and smiling when you shiver against him. Then, for the second time tonight, you’re pushing Eddie away with a disgruntled look. You shake your head, trying to collect your thoughts as your chest heaves in hidden excitement from Eddie’s teasing. “I’m not— I’m not some groupie, Eddie.”

And Eddie looks at you like you’ve just said the sky is blue, “I’m a journalist. I came here to work and you…” You pause and blink at Eddie as if thinking over your following words, “You’re just getting in the way.”

And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like the way it sounds or the way you said it or the way it makes him feel. He hates it.

“Getting in the way?”

“Yes, Eddie, you’re getting in the way,” You snap, irritation heavy within your tone. “I’ve been patient with you this entire time, but you just— you’re such a fucking asshole. I mean— none of this should be happening— this,” you gesture between the two of you, “shouldn’t be happening.”

Eddie’s face pinches in defense, “Nothing is happening here, birdie.”

And you scoff, shaking your head as you speak, “Then why are you here, Eddie?”

And this is the first time either of you has pointed out the obvious mix of feelings stirring between you both, and it makes Eddie’s skin run cold— because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know why your words are upsetting him. He doesn’t know why he hates it when James is around you. He doesn’t know why every time he thinks of you or sees you he gets that warm rush in his chest— he just knows it’s there. 

And it scares Eddie. It scares Eddie to realize that he was wrong about you, to realize that you aren’t all those mean things he said about you, to realize that maybe he likes you a lot more than he’d like to admit. It scares him.

Eddie shakes his head like the words are in there but can’t seem to say them, and he hates it. He hates feeling this way. He hates knowing that he fucked this up way worse than he’d thought because you’re looking at him like you never want to see him again. And you have every right. Because Eddie has put you through more than enough, and honestly speaking, there isn’t a single way Eddie sees this turning in his favor. He’s ruined everything before anything could even happen.

And Eddie hates that.

Your arms slink around your body to protectively shield your frame, and Eddie can visibly see you shrinking into yourself, and he can’t believe he’s the reason why. It hits Eddie like a fucking freight train. All the weeks of tormenting and mean games Eddie has played with you, it’s all bullshit. It was Eddie’s way of protecting himself, and in the end, he only ended up hurting the most delicate and kind person he thinks he’s ever met.

“I think you should go.” You softly say.

And you can’t even look Eddie in the eyes, and Eddie wants to scream. He wants to pull you in, spew out apologies, and beg for any sliver of forgiveness you can give, but you— you’re too far gone. Eddie pushed you off the ledge and watched you drift away, only to cast a rope at the last second. But Eddie’s rope is too short, and you’re gone.

Still, even though Eddie knows he’s done enough damage, his pride wins him over, and on his way out, he turns to say his last piece, “You know, everything was fine until you came along. This is exactly why I didn’t want you here.”

And you both know what he’s talking about. The mixed feelings and the drama— all of it. None of it would’ve happened if you never came along, and even if Eddie thinks he wishes you never happened, he knows he feels the opposite. You both know it.

And if Eddie sees the tiny glimpse of you wiping at your face, he doesn’t mention it. He only leaves you with his words and the slamming of the door.

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part seven

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a/n: HELLO U MADE IT TO THE END! I HOPE THE GIRLIES ARENT TOO MAD W ME, IK EVERYONE WANTED READER TO HAVE HER MOMENT SO WE GOT A LITTLE SNIPPET OF IT HERE BUT ITS ONLY THE BEGINNINGGG !! as always, thank u for making it to the end and i always love to hear how you feel about it !! <3

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