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shrenvents · 10 months ago

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Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

I’m a mutant…

That’s what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know jack-shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention?” Logan questions, his tone surprisingly soft. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again.

“I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're just begging for it princess."

Part two

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underratedbreadcrust · 1 month ago

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Chance Equals Fortune — Prologue

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: parasites. that is the only thing he thinks of when he meets the players he is meant to recruit. but what happens when he meets you and you are nothing of what he expects.

an au where the salesman lives and becomes a player.

Warnings: swearing and classist thinking. in the future there will probably be canon-typical violence and i'm still debating on smut.

a/n: happy new years! i'm sorry i couldn't upload this earlier i had to deal with some long distant relatives. however, due to popular demand here is the gong yoo fic as promised. this was originally supposed to be under 1k words...

Words: 2.1k

next part>>

Click. Click. Click

Those are the sounds of pristine perfectly polished black shoes on concrete. The soles of the shoes worn by a handsome-looking businessman echoed loudly, causing the sounds to reverberate into the jet-black sky. As he walked beneath the faint luminescence of street lights, case in hand and his head held high, his eyes searched for the next prey to fall victim to his silver tongue. The same mouth that twisted dark truths into sweet promises others couldn't dare reject. Never once has his articulate way of speaking failed to deliver the precise words necessary to provide his superiors with a new batch of fresh meat to satisfy their sadistic tendencies. To him, it was all the same. One less piece of vermin in the world, and more importantly, one less leech to drain the well-oiled machine that is society.

Today was no different as he strolled along the sidewalk of a small park near the outskirts of Seoul. While he walked, he felt indifferent towards the small details, like the light breeze swaying the tree branches above or the faint smell of dog shit wafting through the air. Having trained himself to ignore anything and everything that could be a possible distraction from his mission. What was his mission again? Ah yes, currently that would be you.

His steps immediately halted as he spotted your figure in the distance, a dark shadow looming over a bed of flowers and a trail of smoke emitting from the cigarette between your fingers. There you are. He squared his shoulders as he fixed his expression into one of casual ease. Now, all he had left to do was to convince you all of the problems that have stemmed from your pathetic life could be solved in the blink of an eye. That your worries could dissolve as quickly as skin in acid.

He began to move again, taking long strides to where you were standing. In the time he took to reach you, he jotted some quick mental notes.

One. Your relaxed stance oozed confidence and uninterest despite being a young lady positioned in one of the most crime-infested spots of the city in the dead of night. Meaning you either had a weapon on you or had sufficient defense skills, possibly both. He must tread carefully.

Two. You were positioned next to a tall fountain, atop stood a small marble figure of a gumiho. The spot infamously known for the shady transactions dealing with drugs and other nefarious crimes. Perhaps you were waiting for someone? He'd have to keep an eye out for any newcomers that could interrupt his process.

Three. Your mouth was...moving?

His steps faltered. There was no other person around within a 3-mile radius whom you could be conversing with, nor did you have a phone in hand. How odd. In his time as a recruiter, he has encountered all kinds of people. Drug addicts, the mentally ill, and one memorable case a delirious man on the brink of death, hallucinating from hunger. You, however, seemed perfectly sane. Keyword…seemed. He shook his head, quickly putting a halt to his thoughts. He had no time to ponder over whatever weird traits you may have, he came here to do one job. He resumed his trek towards you and was soon standing mere feet from you.

Show time.

“Excuse me miss, may I have a minute of your time?”

You remain standing still, making no indication that you had noticed him. Your eyes were distant while you continued to murmur but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him or if you really were that unaware of your surroundings. Now that won’t do.

“Miss?” He tried again tentatively, his head tilting curiously as he stepped in your line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Finally, your eyes shifted into focus, taking a moment to adjust. For a brief moment, it appeared as if you were lost. However, that moment soon passed and your eyes narrowed, annoyance filling your features.

“Why did you interrupt me?”

The bite in your tone was enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Perhaps you really weren’t in the right state of mind after all. “Interrupt?”

You scoffed, ignoring the question you brought the cigarette back to your lips. Taking in a long drag before you released the smoke right in his face. His mouth turned downward in displeasure.

“Do you need something?” You snapped, your jaw clenching as you slid your free hand in your pocket. He caught the way your finger twitched as you did so. Weapon it is then.

His face instantly changed back to that previous pleasant expression, his lips curving into a kind smile though with a lack of warmth in his eyes. Instead replaced by an empty, clinical look.

”I don’t mean to be a bother ma’am, but I’m here to offer you a proposal you’re sure to like,” he states in a neutral tone, having uttered a variation of those words dozens of times. “A way to better improve your current economic situation.”

Your body tenses as your eyes dart over his figure eyeing the suitcase, no doubt analyzing him as a threat. “Look I already said I’d pay him back!” He watches as you chuck the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. “If he keeps rushing me like this then don’t expect to get a single won out of me! I don’t give a shit who he is!” Your volume rises as you take a step back, ready to sprint if needed.

He raises his arm in surrender. “That’s not what I’m here for. As I’ve stated, I only want to help.” His mind is conjuring up the best way to ease the tension.

He hesitantly takes a step forward.

Your eyes immediately look back down. “What’s in the case?”

Another step.

“I work for a group of people whose only interest is to help those who are struggling. Our objective being to ease the burden of the majority.” He swiftly places the case at the base of the fountain, unlocking the latch but leaving it closed. “See for yourself.”

You were the one to take the final step, closing the gap between the two of you. You gave him one more skeptical look before you focused all of your attention on what was in front of you. Slowly, both hands reached out and flipped the top wide open. Your eyes widened as you took in the contents of what was inside, or more specifically, the big wads of cash.

You remained silent, frozen as a statue as you simply stared. In an instant, you whipped your head in his direction. You took the time to study him, your mouth slightly agape and a certain look in your eye he couldn't quite place. A couple of seconds passed, you clamped your mouth shut and swallowed thickly, licking your lips before you finally managed to whisper, "What do you want?"

His mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Got you. "I'd like to play a game."

You belted out a high-pitched, contorted laugh. A childlike glee completely overcoming you. "Ab-so-fucking-lutely," you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

It dawned on him what that look in your gaze was...

Unstable.

A jolt of thrill shoots down his spine. "I'm sure you're familiar with the game ddakji," he reaches until he grabs the two colorful squares, carefully placing the red one on the ground, "for every time your square manages to flip mine, I will pay you 100,000 won."

You nod enthusiastically, your hand shooting out as he draws his hand in at the same time. "However, if you lose...you must pay me back the same amount."

You snatched the piece from him. “Deal.” You don't waste a single moment in hurling it, the force of the impact causing the sound to ricochet like a gunshot. The square goes flying, becoming a red blur. It stays in the air for a couple of seconds, but that time is enough for the experienced recruiter to know that you've already won. By the time it hits the ground, he doesn't even have to look to know it's flipped.

You look up expectantly at him.

He glances at her, jaw clenching. Well, this isn't how it usually goes. Before he can move to pay you, your voice cuts through the silence. "From the look on your face, you didn't want me to win, correct?" The lack of response on his part encourages you to continue. "How about, instead of doing whatever the hell you were thinking, I propose a new rule," you lean forward, your eyes sparkling with mirth, "we both keep throwing until one of us loses. If I win...you give me everything that's in that case."

"And what if I win?"

Your mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, you won't."

His eyes look you up and down, scanning you. His hands twitch in anticipation at the challenge, adrenaline manifesting itself as electricity in his veins. His bruised ego from losing the first round combined with his competitive nature was enough to make him agree. This was not part of the plan. He could just give you the money, the card, and go about his day like he has so many times before. He has no reason to play along other than he just wants to beat you.

"Alright," his previously fabricated smile now becoming genuine, "my turn."

With renewed vigor, he launches his square and as expected, it flips. He lets out an arrogant chuckle as he fixes his suit and stands up straight, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

This cycle continued for multiple rounds, the money long forgotten. The need to succeed fueled the violent fire between the two of you. After a while, he lost all track of time, fixating all of his attention solely on the game.

By now, his hair was disheveled and sweat dripped down his forehead. He panted as he recovered, his arm muscles aching from the consistent use. It was taking more energy than he was willing to admit in order to keep going but like hell if he'd let exhaustion be the cause of failing.

On his turn, he prepared himself to once again launch the disc. He readied himself, drawing his arm back and—

His eyes suddenly flickered to your lips, where your tongue darted out lick them. He watches intensely at your now damp, chapped lips, mouth slightly parted as you breathe heavily from fatigue.

In his moment of distraction, the square slips from his hand. He scrambles quickly to catch it but it's too late...

He's lost.

There is a long pause of silence, before your high-pitched cackle cuts through the air. His eyes widen in shock, the realization slowly setting in.

How...

He breathes out deeply through his nose, trying his best to compose himself. What the hell was that? How on earth could he have lost? He Never. Loses. He doesn't have any longer to dwell on the fact as you practically skip in joy to the case, already counting the amount. All of this because you managed to distract him.

Your voice soon interrupts his thoughts. "Maybe the next time you want to win, you might try not to let your eyes stray so far..." you say as you wink.

How did you even notice? Wait...was that on purpose? He clenches his fists until they turn white, the thought making his blood boil. He has half the mind to kill you and call it an accident just to quell his anger.

He closes his eyes in frustration. No, I can't ruin the games.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he knows that his voice won't betray any conflict he feels, he speaks again, "you know, there are other games such as the one we just played. And for much larger prizes as well."

He's back in his element, his persuasive tone of voice exuding reliability. He hands you the card, explaining how it works, how to enlist, and so on.

By the time he finishes his speech, you look mostly convinced. After inspecting the card more closely, your stare finds his, "I appreciate what you have done and thank you for the opportunity. I will consider your offer. If I do accept know it will only be due to a singular fact," your head leans closer, voice lowering to a whisper and your breath fanning over his, "I never lose"

On that note, you step back and walk away, never once turning to glance back at him. You soon disappear into the dark Seoul night, shadows blending with that of buildings and trees.

He lets out a small huff in amusement. If that is true, then he's excited to see how you'll fare in the games.

please don't be a silent reader i love reading comments and hearing your thoughts.

#squid game #squid game 2 #the salesman x reader #the salesman #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game x reader #salesman x reader

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ms-demeanor · 2 months ago

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So there's this stucky fanfic blog (leave me alone, i hate marvel movies and like it when blonde men are bleeding; see also my recent interest in dungeon meshi) that I used to follow that had some major mod drama and basically stopped posting in 2020. I still get it as a recommended blog when I'm scrolling pretty regularly.

Here's what its archive looked like very recently:

Aaaand here's what its archive looked like starting November 3rd:

It is a compendium of the most absolutely rancid shitlib takes available and is going to be GENUINELY useful for a research project i'm working on because I periodically see these things float across my dash but I don't follow enough people who engage with these kind of posts to know what's a good source of them.

I only noticed it in the first place because it popped up as a recommended blog with a picture of trump, whereas normally when i see it recommended it's old fic or fanart.

Anyway, I'm torn between which of these two posts I scrolled past at a glance are my favorite. This one agitating about why censorship is good, actually and the government should ban tiktok (if you don't know why it's a bad thing to set a precedent that the US government bans the use of specific app I just can't help you, i'm sorry, even if you think tiktok is bad you shouldn't want the government banning apps) or this one that uses a Bill Maher quote that is explicitly about the hypocrisy of american civic religion to represent a group calling itself "The Christian Left."

First of all, Bill Maher is, essentially, a conservative and antivaxxer who thinks that Democrats keep losing because they're alienating their base by supporting things like universal healthcare (maher has cheerfully said on his show that he thinks we shouldn't charge taxpayers to make fat people healthy and that the best healthcare is a diet; he has also said a healthy diet is why people don't need vaccines, and you should skip the fast food to avoid getting the flu, and that vaccines cause alzheimers) and cancelling student debt.

Second of all:

As a very reddit-type atheist myself, I wish more people would remember that Bill Maher is not interested in christian morality, he is interested in pointing out hypocrisy as a cheap gotcha (and is absolutely uninterested in responding when people point out his own hypocrisy - he is a neat demonstration of why there is essentially no utility in pointing out when people's actions don't align with their stated beliefs).

Anyway, it's clear that the mod drama on a decade-old MCU fanblog was justified, thank you, unhinged mod, for the repository of liberal memes, and everyone, please please please accept that bill maher is a huge piece of shit and you don't want him to be the face of your movement.

#of course prismatic bell is on the censorship post

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rninies · 1 year ago

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✮ so you do like me - gojo satoru

synopsis: you and gojo confess in an unexpected situation.

warnings: fluff, chaotic reader and gojo, gn!reader, gojo is tiny bit oblivious — wc: 746

notes: i love oblivious gojo i think hes so stupid (affectionate)

gojo satoru is annoying.

you’re saying this as his best friend who’s been with him for years, and even though you’ve been friends for that long, he’s never failed to annoy the shit out of you. there’s never a day where he doesn’t bother you about the stupidest stuff ever — you remember getting a call from him at three in the morning asking if you had any spare hand soap at your place (you got mad at him for a day for that).

hearing satoru sigh for the tenth time today, you turned to look at him. “what is it? why are you so… gloomy today?”

“nothing,” he repeats the same answer he gave you two minutes ago which makes you sigh as well, giving up on asking any more questions. when he sees your uninterested eyes, he sits up straight. “okay, well, i have this problem and you’re my closest friend but-” satoru groans, leaning back against the chair and placing a hand over his face.

that piqued your interest. “but?”

“it’s hard.” satoru shakes his head in distress. “it’s so annoying i can’t talk about it.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean you can’t talk about it? you can always talk about anything with me.”

“no, see! that’s the problem here.” satoru stands up and walks towards you. “do you know how goddamn hard it is having a crush on someone and not being able to talk about it with the only person you want to talk to it about because it’s about them?” he exclaims, frustrated at himself.

you paused. “yes, i do. i absolutely do and it’s horrible. trust me, satoru, i know.”

“how do you know? i’ve never seen you look at anyone with hearts in your eyes.” satoru narrows his eyes. “i’ve never even heard you talk about crushes ever since we became friends!”

“you’re so dense.” you sighed, finally mustering up the courage to say it. “it’s you, dumbass. i’ve had a crush on you like two weeks after we became friends. i’ve never talked about crushes with you because it’s you i have a crush on. how am i supposed to talk about being in love with you to you?”

“huh?” satoru freezes in his place, brain malfunctioning with the information you just gave him. “wait- huh?”

“take all the time you need, toru.” you crossed your arms, patiently waiting for satoru to say something coherent.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME?” satoru bursts, arms flailing around. “we- why didn’t you say anything about having a crush on me? wasn’t i obvious with my feelings for you?! i thought you would’ve known about what i felt when i-”

“when you what?”

“when i gave you my last piece of chicken nugget!” he exclaims.

you paused. “seriously? you giving me your last chicken nugget is a sign of love?”

“have you never read or watched anything romantic? people would usually give up their last piece of their favorite food to their lover!” satoru asks, and you shake your head making satoru gasp. “you’re so uncultured.”

“um? i meant that i had never seen anyone do that. ever.” you replied. “you’re the one who’s watching weird “romance” movies!”

“don’t you dare call my romance movies weird! you just have to watch it with me and you’ll be in love immediately.” satoru huffs, walking closer to you so that you can smell his cologne. “so? what do we do now?”

“are you just going to stand in front of me and not ask me out on a date?” you asked, and satoru laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“so,” satoru says as soon as he removes his arms form you. “you had a crush on me, hm?”

you scoff. “as if you didn’t.”

“it is because i’m absolutely irresistible?” satoru gives you a smug smile.

“as if.” you reply. “no, it’s because you’re an idiot, and-” you paused, taking in a deep breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “and i can’t imagine life without you.”

“oh my god.” satoru gasps. “you’re such a romantic! aw, y/n!” he embraces you once more, but this time, you tripped and ended up falling on the bed, his figure crushing you.

“satoru-” you wheeze, slapping his back. “can’t breathe. let. go.”

“no way. i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” satoru smiles down at you. “i love you.”

your ears turn red and you immediately look away. “...i love you too.”

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts (send an ask to be added!) <3

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 month ago

Text

Here (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I'm sorry if I seem uninterested

Or I'm not listenin' or I'm indifferent

Truly, I ain't got no business here

But since my friends are here, I just came to kick it

But really I would rather be at home all by myself not in this room

Synopsis: Girls night quickly goes left when your safety ends up being compromised

Series Masterlist

Warnings: underage drinking, drug use

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Textbooks as well as individual pieces of paper filled with notes were scattered all around both you and Joe clearly forgotten as the makeout session that you two were currently in had taken priority.

As always, he had offered to help you study and you only had one more final to take until the semester would officially be over with. But studying led to him giving you kisses here and there and now he held your focus.

When Joe had suddenly pulled you on top of him, that's when your phone decided to go off.

“Ignore it, baby.” Joe told you as you had broken the kiss in order to grab it and he quickly pulled your face back towards his.

“But…” You started to protest, but Joe immediately cut you off.

“It can wait. I hardly saw you all day.” He told you and you leaned down once more to kiss him.

It wasn't until your phone went off a third time when he audibly groaned at the sound.

“It might be important, babe.” You said as you then let out a laugh from his reaction.

“Fine, answer it.”

“Two minutes. Stop being a grump.”

“I'm not a grump for wanting my girlfriend's attention.” Joe told you as he pouted. You gave him one last kiss before starting to look for your phone.

Finally locating it, you grabbed your phone from the other side of Joe's bed under one of your notebooks and saw it was Erin and quickly answered. But that didn't stop Joe from giving you his undivided attention.

“Yes, boo?” You answered and you could hear movement in the background.

“Uh, are you forgetting something bestie?” Erin asked and you were honestly genuinely confused.

“Forgetting what?”

Since you were still straddling your boyfriend, he took the opportunity to move your panties to the side and ran his fingers along your folds making your eyes go wide.

You gave him a warning look and mouthed ‘stop it’ but he paid you no attention as he grabbed your thighs and moved you all the way up until you were directly over his mouth.

“Me, you, and Alisha were going out tonight! You were supposed to be here getting ready with us.”

“Shit, I completely forgot.” You told her in response as you felt Joe take one long lick and you had to cover your mouth in order to suppress a moan.

“Alisha found some new spot for us to go to and I need to find a boyfriend so we have shit to do.” Erin told you as Joe's tongue was now moving in and out of you.

“Ohh, umm. Okay, I'll be there soon.” What started out as a moan was quickly suppressed by the full answer you gave her.

“Remember ladies free before eleven so hurry up. And I promise to return you to your boyfriend in one piece. I know you're with him from the sounds you're making. Being discreet was never one of your strong qualities.”

“Erin!”

“I can tell he's giving you his undivided attention! Just saying! I'm not mad at it. After he's finished putting you through the mattress, come to my apartment.”

“You get on my nerves, but I will.” Your response came out shaky as you hung up and glared down at your boyfriend who didn't do anything but smirk in response which then led to you rolling your eyes.

“You definitely could have waited until I got off the phone. She knew what you were doing.”

“No I couldn't and it's not my fault I want to make you feel good. And where are you going?” He asked as he then started kissing along your thighs.

“I forgot I promised Erin and Alisha that I would go out with them tonight. I'm sorry, baby.” You told Joe, but all he did was shrug.

“They can have you for a few hours and I'll get you the rest of the night. You promised them, so you should go.”

“I need to go back to my apartment to get something to wear and then head over there.”

“Hmm, I'll take you, but you aren't going anywhere until I'm finished. I want these off. Now.” He told you and a laugh escaped your mouth as he tugged at the waistband.

You slowly pulled them down while still straddling him and slid each leg through one by one as you threw them on the floor.

“Much better.”

It was 10:25 when Joe finally pulled up to Erin’s apartment just as he had promised and was still having a difficult time keeping his hands to himself. After he had eaten you out for close to an hour, you returned the favor and the two of you had then gotten dressed to head to your apartment.

Being there quickly led to him eating you out again before he finally allowed you to take another shower in order to get ready to go out with your best friends.

“I need another kiss before you leave.” He told you and you laughed as you pinched his cheek.

“I’m not going to be gone long, babe. The sooner you let me go, the sooner you come and pick me up.” You replied as you connected your lips to his.

“Do you know where the three of you are going?”

“No idea, Alisha chose the place. Apparently it just opened, I think that’s what she told me in the text.”

“Just let me know when you get there and what time I should come and get you. I’ll be awake, okay?” He told you as you nodded your head and fixed your bracelet that was gracing your left wrist.

“Okay, will do. Promise.” You replied as he leaned over to kiss you once more.

“I love you.” He quietly whispered against your lips and you felt his mouth turn up into a smile.

“I love you too. Be back soon.”

–

“How in the world did you get us a table in VIP?!” You asked Alisha as all three of you had now gotten settled in your section and she simply smiled at you.

“Connections, boo. I got connections.” She answered as she looked over the drink menu that was placed on the table.

“Her connections are fucking one of the bouncers.” Erin stated as she playfully rolled her eyes and Alisha shrugged.

“And…. we get all of our bottles on him tonight.” She told both you and Erin and your eyes suddenly went wide.

“Wait, what? We're not even 21….” You replied since you were now confused.

“He doesn't know that.” She said as she sent a wink your way.

“Y/N, stop acting like you've never gotten drunk before.”

“Well yeah, in your house and your sister gave us IV fluids.” You told Erin who had quickly snatched the menu from Alisha earning a pinch to her arm in response.

“It'll be fine. Just sit back and have fun. We almost made it through our first semester at LSU. We deserve to celebrate that. As well as you finally breaking up with Trevor's dumbass. Joe is literally perfect for you.”

“He is, I’m happy that I stopped being scared and finally gave him a chance.”

“And not to mention, he obviously knows how to please you from what we heard on the phone earlier.” Alisha added as she eyed you while a small smirk appeared.

“That was hilarious, you were trying so hard not to moan, but me and Alisha knew what was happening.” Erin confessed as she busted out laughing.

“And he did it again before he dropped me off at your apartment.” You told both of them and they collectively gasped.

“Oooh, yall nasty. But I love it and I do not blame you one bit. But enough about that, let’s have fun and pray that I pass my final tomorrow.”

“TOMM- ERIN?!?!?” You exclaimed and she simply shrugged.

“I don’t take it until three! I have time to sober up!”

“Isn’t your GPA like 1.7?” Alisha asked Erin before she busted out laughing.

“I will take the first bottle we get and bust it upside your head! No! It’s definitely not since I would have been kicked off the team if it was.”

“Anyway, moving on. Let’s start off with something light.”

You knew for a fact when you went out with Erin, drinking was anything but light.

“And what is your definition of light because I know for a fact mine is different.”

“Vodka shots!”

“Maybe I need to preorder the uber.”

The three of you stayed in your section at your table for a good while when Alisha decided to go with the bouncer that got the three of you in the section in the first place whose name you learned was Derek while you and Erin decided to make your way downstairs to where the dancefloor was. Not being in the mood to be around that many sweaty bodies, you told Erin that you would keep an eye on her while you sat at the bar and decided to get another drink. You knew that you would have been a lot more wasted if you weren’t drinking water in between downing the alcohol.

That was when you felt a presence next to you.

Looking over, you saw that it was Cameron, Trevor’s best friend who also played on the baseball team with him.

“Hey.” He said and you instantly felt weird.

You could never quite put your finger on it, but something about him had always rubbed you the wrong way. When you had told Trevor, he simply brushed you off and told you that you were being dramatic.

Surprise, surprise

Cameron obviously had never flat out said it at least in front of you and neither did Trevor, but you knew deep down for a fact that he didn’t like you. And he probably didn’t like you now more so because you had broken up with his best friend.

“Hi.” You quietly said as you were trying to decide what drink you wanted to order.

“Who’s here with you tonight?” He curiously asked and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“Not with my boyfriend if you must know.”

Cameron instantly held his hands up in defense.

“It’s not any of my business what happened between you and Trevor. I was just curious. He isn’t here by the way since I see you constantly looking around.”

“Hmm, that’s surprising since when I see one, I usually see the other not too far behind.”

“I just… wish you two could have worked things out. He really loved you.”

When you were quiet, he took another approach to get you to talk to him.

“But, your happiness is what matters.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You told him since he actually sounded sincere for once.

“Anyway, let’s celebrate the semester being over and new beginnings for you.” Cameron replied as he waved over the bartender.

“What are you drinking?” He politely asked and you took a second to think it over.

“Amaretto sour.”

“Good choice.”

When you were waiting for your drink to be made, you turned away from the bar in order to face the crowd to once again keep an eye on Erin as you had promised. You spotted her and was taken out of your thoughts by Cameron nudging you in order to hand you the drink he got for you.

“Cheers.” He simply said as the two of you raised your glasses. It took less than two minutes for yours to be gone as Cameron still stayed in his place next to you.

“See you around, Y/N. Enjoy your night. Wishing you and Joe the best.” He said as he winked at you before walking off.

As soon as he was out of sight, you decided that you would go to the bathroom before grabbing Erin and heading back upstairs to your table.

When you were washing your hands, you glanced up in the mirror and had to blink a few times to get your eyes to focus.

After you dried your hands and threw the paper towel in the trash can, you felt off balance and quickly leaned against the wall in the bathroom to steady yourself.

“Fuck, did I really drink that much already?” You asked yourself before taking a few minutes to clear your head.

Once you felt that it was safe to move, you headed back out to find Erin.

She happened to be in the same place that you had originally left her, but the walk back felt like it took an hour.

That was when you knew something wasn’t right.

“Y/N? Babe? You feel okay?” Erin asked you as she had pulled you over to the side away from the crowd. Your head felt fuzzy and you leaned on the wall in order to steady yourself.

“No, I… Erin I'm scared. I don't know what's wrong.”

“Okay, we'll figure this out. What did you drink? Did someone give you something?” Erin was trying to get answers out of you since her back had been turned and she had been facing away from you as you were sitting at the bar. She had peeked over at you periodically and made sure you were okay, but hadn’t seen you drink anything.

“Cameron.” Was all you could get out as you had now slid down the wall in order to sit on the floor.

“Y/N, why the FUCK would you take a drink from him out of all people!? You know he's just as unhinged as Trevor is! They're obviously best friends for a reason! Shit! No, stand up!”

“But I'm tired. Where's Joey?”

“He's not here, but you have got to stay awake.”

Alisha walked up to the two of you and instantly got a look of concern on her face and was confused about what was happening in front of her.

“Uhh? What the fuck is going on? Why is she on the floor?” She asked and Erin turned to see you had slid onto the floor anyway despite her protests.

“Help me get her outside so we can call 911.”

“Joe is about to kill us because of this, well Cameron I should say.”

“And Ja'Marr.”

The two of them helped you up as they gathered all of your belongings from VIP and made their way outside. They sat you on the curb with Alisha sitting next to you as Erin dialed 911.

As she was giving the location as to where the three of you were, a sudden wave of nausea hit you as your head was laying on Alisha’s shoulder.

“I have to throw up.” You simply told her and she immediately turned you to face away from her as you emptied what seemed like everything you ate all the way back from two weeks ago.

All she did was hold up your hair and rub your back as the three of you waited for the paramedics to arrive.

“I’m going to fucking kill that asshole.” Erin said to no one in particular as she was now pacing back and forth.

“Erin, no.”

“Y/N, stop. He did that in an attempt to hurt you for breaking up with his best friend and you cannot tell me any different.”

“I just want to feel better and I want Joey.” You quietly said as a hiccup escaped your mouth.

“I know, babe. I know. I’ll call him once we get to the hospital. We need to make sure that you’re okay, first.” Alisha said as you turned to throw up again.

That was the last thing you remembered before waking up in the emergency room of the hospital not too far from campus.

As you opened your eyes, Erin and Alisha both gave you a small smile, but you could faintly hear two voices arguing.

And it sounded like Joe and your twin brother.

“What happened? And what is happening out there?” You asked the both of them who exchanged looks with one another.

“Well, this will be the last girls night out of the apartment for a while. Okay let’s do the cliff notes version. Cameron slipped something in your drink that caused you to get all woozy. You found us and we took you outside before you threw up and passed out. You got here, they drew blood to find out what he slipped into your system, gave you an IV and fluids. Next when you were somewhat stable, each of us called Joe and Ja’Marr and we did not in fact know that Ja’Marr had no idea that you and Joe were in a relationship. Uh, apparently that uh is why they’re arguing now. Ja’Marr thinks you two hid it from him and Joe is saying that you guys didn’t. And that’s what you missed on Glee.” Erin finished and you sighed as you looked at your arm that had the fluids running through it.

“And that is actually your third bag of fluid. Once you finish that and tolerate eating something you should be able to leave.” Alisha added as the door to your room opened.

Both Joe and Ja’Marr had pissed off looks on their faces.

“Pebbles, I’m happy you’re okay, but I am mad as shit at you right now.” Ja’Marr told you as you looked at him confused.

“Why? I didn’t do anything?”

“You damn right, you didn’t do anything. Since when were you going to tell me that you two were together?!” He asked gesturing between you and Joe who simply had a neutral facial expression.

“What? I thought it was obvious? I also didn’t realize that I had to tell you every single little detail of my life.”

“Are you serious right now? You’re dating one of my friends and didn’t think that it was important to tell me? And you literally tell me EVERYTHING. So what the hell are you even talking about?”

“Ja’Marr, that is literally not even important right now. SOMEBODY DRUGGED YOUR TWIN SISTER IF YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED.” Joe finally said, but he just shook his head at him.

“I can’t believe the two of you. But you’re about to be discharged so I guess I’ll see you whenever.” He said and started to walk back out.

“Bam Bam, get back here.”

He didn’t react, but simply kept going.

“JA’MARR!”

“Just let him go, babe. He’s pissed off right now so just let him cool off.” Alisha quietly said and you couldn’t help but start to cry.

“I just need for this night to be over with.” You quietly said as Joe wiped away your tears.

“Do you know who did this?” Joe asked the three of you and all of you exchanged looks.

“Don’t all speak up at once.”

“Cameron, he’s Trevor’s best friend.” You quietly said and it was at that moment you knew that Joe had begun to see red.

“No, don’t get any ideas. We already filed a police report when we got here.” Alisha told him, but you knew for a fact that he would get his revenge in his own way. It had been happening all semester and you knew that this was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Joe took a deep sigh before saying anything else.

“You’re okay and that’s the important part. Ja’Marr will come around.” He told you as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I hope so, but from the look on his face, I don’t know.”

It was now five in the morning when you had gotten back to Joe’s apartment, took a shower, and was now simply lying down in his bed with your head on his chest as his arms were wrapped around you.

The ride home had been silent, and you were somewhat convinced that he was mad at you. So, in order to not let anything end up in an argument, you simply stayed quiet.

The television was on a low volume when you had finally asked him, not being able to take the silence any longer.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked and Joe looked down at you dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Baby, why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I was irresponsible and took a drink from someone that I probably shouldn’t have and look what ended up happening.”

“You had no idea that he was going to do that to you, and no I’m not mad at you. It would be really stupid of me if I was. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“But my twin is mad at me.”

“He’ll come around, just give him time. I honestly don’t think we hid anything from him, but we weren’t exactly screaming it from the rooftops either.”

“I’ll call him later and see if I can get him to talk to me. Usually if I bring him food, that makes everything better.”

“Just sleep on it. It’s been a long day and night for the both of us and like I said, the most important part is that you’re safe.” Joe told you as he placed a kiss on your forehead before turning off the television.

Two days had passed when Joe along with several other members of the football team made their way into the gym that was located on the southside of campus.

And there he was just like he knew he would be.

Luckily the gym was empty as Joe approached Cameron from behind and waited for him to notice him.

Cameron was looking down as he was working on his biceps, but was in for a surprise when he looked up and saw Joe.

He gave him a small smile before reracking the weight he was using and walking back over to him.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked him and instead of Joe replying with words, he immediately put his hand around his throat and backed him up against the mirror making his head hit it with a thud.

“I heard you were the one who slipped something in my girlfriend’s drink the other day, hmm?” Joe asked and Cameron frantically shook his head no.

“No, it wasn’t me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Now Cameron, let’s not lie.”

“I’m not lying, your stupid bitch of a girlfriend is.” He replied as he laughed, but of course Joe found nothing funny.

“Oh, wrong answer.” Joe replied as he motioned to Justin to punch him directly in his jaw.

“Fuck!” Cameron said as he could feel his mouth fill with blood.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet. You and your bitch ass best friend Trevor need to stay the fuck away from Y/N. You understand?”

“Or what? She’s not even…”

“Watch your mouth before I break this mirror using your face. You should know better than to disrespect her in front of me. I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. Good talk.” Joe told him as he finally let him go.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

—

Joey- All good, baby. Trevor and Cameron won’t be bothering you anymore.

You- Uh, babe…. What did you do?

Joey- Nothing 🙂

You- Baby… I told you the police would take care of it

Joey- And it’s my job to take care of you. Where did you want to go for dinner tonight?

You- JOSEPH LEE, stop dodging my question!

Joey- Not dodging it, princess. Like I said, it's my job to take care of you and protect you and make sure you’re good. I love you, see you soon.

#joe burrow #joe burrow lsu #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fanfic #nfl imagine #joe shiesty #joey burrow #Spotify

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planete777 · 1 year ago

Text

FREAK・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.

NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.

"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"

lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.

"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."

"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.

"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."

lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.

"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"

the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."

lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.

"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.

he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.

the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.

"lando, hey."

her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.

"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.

"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.

lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."

even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.

it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.

"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."

"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."

"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.

"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."

his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.

"you're gone, aren't you?"

lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.

"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."

"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"

"just this once, i'll give you my bed."

"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.

"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.

"i'm feeling nice today."

he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.

"oh mint, thank you."

receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.

"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."

his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.

he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.

the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.

he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.

he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.

"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.

"what is this, y/n?"

he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"

then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.

"oh fuck."

"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"

y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?

her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"

then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.

she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.

he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.

"you gonna suck me off?"

he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.

"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.

"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.

"you ready?"

all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.

"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.

she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.

his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.

"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.

"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.

y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.

they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.

"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"

it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.

lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."

y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

Text

A Christmas Prince (2017)- c.leclerc

₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: When a young aspiring journalist is sent abroad to cover a a coronation, she hears rumours about the 'Prince of F1' and goes undercover to investigate them.

pairing: prince! charles leclerc x fem! reader

9.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You jumped up from your desk as soon as you saw him, and trailed him through the office. “Excuse me, sorry- Ron?!”

He turned to you. “Not now.”

“This will just take a second, I just have some questions about your article? The fashion week piece that I’m editing?”

He groaned, clearly uninterested in giving you the time of day. “Go for it.”

Nevertheless, you continued on. How could someone who makes so many noticeable mistakes have a higher job than you? How could someone so self-centred and rude be in that position of power? “The main problem is that Max wanted 300 words, and you’ve written 600, and also the models and designers you quoted weren’t even at the event so…”

“Y/n,” he sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now, just go off and fix it? Yeah?” he smiled, that punchable, asshole smile, and walked off. You rolled your eyes.

Working as a journalist bitch was not your plan when you moved to New York, but alas, your rent does not magically pay itself. Categorically, you enjoyed your job. Decent pay, good co-workers (minus asshole Ron), and it was pretty cool to be in one of the high-rise offices of New York, especially around Christmas. But… the whole getting to write articles part wasn’t something you got to do. You were an editor now, not a journalist. It was… slightly infuriating to know that someone less qualified got paid more money to write shit that you always ended up rewriting for him, but as we mentioned before, bills don’t pay themselves.

“Let me guess, you’re going to completely rewrite the article and save his ass?” Damon, your best friend, asked.

You faked a smile. “It’s almost like that’s my job!”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell him to shove it,” he scoffed. “Any of us could write that better- with our eyes closed!”

You groaned as you sat down.

“How the fuck are you ever going to be taken seriously as a real journalist if you are such a good editor?” he added. “He’ll never promote you if you’re always going to stay as his bitch.”

The ding of your laptop ended the conversation

Max wants you in her office- NOW!

“Oh fuck,” you said under your breath.

“What?” Damon asked, looking over your shoulder. “Oh… good luck.”

You walked into her glass office, praying to something to make this as painless as possible. “If this is because of Ron’s article-”

“It’s not, sit down. I have something else for you,” she smiled. You followed her instructions and stared at her, unused to the kindness. “What do you know about the Royal Family of Monaco?”

“Monaco?” you wracked your brain. “The King died a few years ago, the new King just got married, and the other two are racecar drivers, right?”

“Exactly, anything about the second eldest Prince?” she mused.

You grimaced. “He’s more loyal to Ferrari than his girlfriends and he’s a royal disgrace?”

She grinned. “Yes! Exactly that! Obviously, Charles moved off from the royal duties a long time ago, but Lorenzo has decided to abdicate since his fiance has fallen ill, in Monaco there’s a rule that the throne can be uncrowned for one year and it turns out Lorenzo abdicated in December last year.”

“So Charles has to take the throne?” you asked. “But he’s a driver there’s no way he’d… what happens then?”

She smirked. “That’s exactly what you’re going to find out! His Royal Highness is due back at the Castle this weekend, but in case he also abdicates, I need someone to write on it! There’s a press conference on the 18th, and I want your boots on the ground!”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why me?” you smiled, genuinely curious.

“You’re intelligent, talented, hungry for a story- also none of my regular writers are willing to give up their Christmas,” she admitted. You nodded, knowing you were a last resort.

“Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“He’s gorgeous!” Damon fawned over the pictures of him.

You shrugged. “He’s such a douche, I cannot believe people still find him attractive after all the stuff he’s done.”

“Who wouldn't forgive a face and body like that?”

You looked at the photos. Yes, he was conventionally attractive, but his track record of scorned girlfriends, and the semi-awful fashion sense (who , over the age of 12, still wears tie dye jeans?) put you off. “He’s not my type.”

He stared at you. “He’s everyone’s type. Everyone is a Ferrari fan, and everyone is a Charles LeClerc fan.”

“I still don’t see it,” you shrugged.

“You should try to seduce him! Make him your husband and just excuse all the cheating so you can be royal and rich,” he suggested.

“I do not want that,” you scoffed. “Plus, I’m not on the market right now.”

He groaned. “You two broke up a whole year ago. Don’t let him yuck your yum 12 months on!”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked into Rudy’s, your dad’s diner, you couldn’t but feel the weight of the conversation you were just about to have. You had spent Christmas as just the two of you every year since your mom had passed, you didn’t want to just leave him alone. The regulars raved about the pies as you stepped in from the cold, snowy air.

“The usual?” your dad asked, you nodded and smiled, waving to some of the regulars you knew. “How are you doing sweetie?”

“Good, great!” You smiled, plastering on your best ‘i’m fine!’ face.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned. You deflated.

“I have good news and bad news,” you explained.

“Bad news first,” he decided.

“I won’t be here on Christmas- but, It’s because I got my first story.”

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “That’s amazing! Your first real story! This is your big break!”

“You don’t mind that I’ll miss Christmas?”

He shook his head. “This is your big break, take it. Don’t worry about me. You go over to wherever, and you make me proud.”

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, and thanked him.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The flight was long and uncomfortable, thus the joys of economy, and the dickhead that stole your cab wasn’t much nicer either.

You and the rest of the press were all then bundled into cars and brought to the palace.

“First time?” The reporter beside you questioned. You nodded your head, slightly embarrassed about the fact that they could tell, but he just chuckled. “Word to the wise, pick a new career.”

The rest of the car was an eruption of laughter, small agreements, or a scoff. You chuckled along, but you couldn’t help but feel small. You were the only woman in your car, the only new reporter, and-

Woah. Holy shit.

The Monaco Palace.

Any and all other thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as you stared in awe at the beautiful structure. The wide windows and beautiful pillars, all decorated perfectly for Christmas. Though it wasn’t snowing (like back home), you did appreciate the gesture of making it feel like Christmas. You were enchanted by the palace, it stood tall on the edge of the bay, fitting in perfectly with the rest of the gorgeous scenery.

You walked in behind the rest of the press, a nervous energy buzzing in the air. Prince Charles was an F1 favourite, a master of the sport, and now he had to give it all up for the crown. Everyone was more than excited to see if he’d actually show up, which seemed increasingly unlikely as the moments ticked away. He did every single piece of press Ferrari or the FIA asked him to do, and he seemed to enjoy the majority of them, but the second the palace asked him to do something, he was ‘too busy’. It left a bad taste in your mouth. You were exactly a patriot, but you thought that one should at least appreciate the fact that they were a part of their country, and the people deserved to hear from their Prince, not only through sports interviews. He’d been photoshopped into the palace's Christmas cards for the past 4 years, for god’s sake.

You pushed your opinion of him to the side and turned your attention to the palace. The tall white walls and arched ceilings, the beautiful and historic artwork hanging off the walls, god, you’d give anything to be allowed free reign in here with your camera. Your attention was then grabbed by the PR liaison, Penelope, standing at the panel desk looking increasingly nervous.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, the repress started getting restless. Lorenzo was never late. Hervé had never been late. Pascale was never late. Arthur was never late. Charles was the outlier. He slept with too many women, drank too much, and ‘disgraced the crown’, according to the Monegasque reporters beside you. You didn’t care much for all of the gossip pages he frequented, and only watched F1 on the occasion that your father wanted to watch it. But, it was clear that he thought that following his dreams of being a racecar driver were more important than his duties, and while you understood the push and pull of having a dream, there were also expectations to meet, and he didn’t meet them.

“We regret to inform you that this press conference has been cancelled-”

She was cut off by about 200 reporters shouting and groaning.

You politely raised your hand, and all eyes turned to you. “When can we expect the press conference to be rescheduled?” You asked and the room was alive again, this time, in agreement.

“As of right now, we won’t be rescheduling,” she offered a polite smile as everyone collectively groaned again.

“Well can we at least expect a date at which he’ll be crowned?”

“He will be crowned on Christmas Eve, at the annual Christmas Ball,” she smiled.

“Which is a private event, so what are we to tell your people? They can’t see him getting crowned as their next king? No media are allowed in, no cameras, phones are barely allowed. What will your people think?” you questioned, your voice dripping with condescension. The rest of the reporters cheered you on, no one had stood up against his behaviour before. No one.

She faltered, and then the room started being cleared by security, much to the chagrin of the rest of you. You were kicked out, a collection of grumbles and groans, knowing Christmas was ruined because of some stupid Prince and his childish antics.

You couldn’t go home empty handed. You’d never get a chance like this again, so breaking and entering into the Monaco Palace wasn’t that bad of a crime, right?

You came into a long hallway, the marble walls and floors taking your full attention, until you came across a picture. It was the royal family, a picture of the five of them, taken before Hervé passed. Charles was only 20, Arthur was only 16. Lorenzo was 29. And they lost their father. In the photo, they’re sitting at a dinner table, looking happy. It didn’t look posed, or professionally taken. It looked like it had been taken on an iphone. Charles was smiling bright, his arm around his little brother and his father. Lorenzo’s arm around Pascale as she held Arthur’s hand. Charles was truly the thing that dragged you in. His bright smile, eyes crinkled at the edges, laughing so hard he must’ve felt sick. The way everyone else’s eyes were on him. He was like a magnet. Not because of his good looks or lovably dorky personality, but because of something else. He was just… interesting.

“Can I help you?” a security guard asked, his voice booming and strong. You jumped.

“Gosh! Sorry, umm-yes-no-um-”

“American?” he asked, and you were sure you were busted. But then he smiled. “Follow me.”

You followed him through the halls until you were in front of a tall woman with brunette hair. You knew who she was, her name was Georgia, the palace coordinator. She was terrifying to stand in front of. You’d never felt so judged in your life.

“You’re the new tutor?” she questioned. You just nodded. “I thought you couldn’t come until January?”

“My last job finished up early,” you lied. A sinking pit in your stomach started growing, but you just swallowed it. You’d deal with it later.

“Oh,” she smiled. “Perfect, I’ll bring you to meet him,” she smiled.

What were you getting yourself into?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Turns out Arthur LeClerc needed a tutor to help with his engineering course. Thank god you’d dated that engineer who wanted to mansplain every single part of a car to you, and you could get by the maths with a calculator. Arthur wasn’t exactly a fan of having someone younger than him tutor him, he felt stupid, you could tell. You did everything you could to reassure him that it truly was alright to need help, and he was starting to come around, but every time you two really started talking, Charles would appear. And yes, Charles had been that asshole who’d taken your cab at the airport. Even more of a reason to hate him.

“Arthur!” Charles called up as you finished explaining a sum, which he was finally getting, but of course, Charles had to distract him. “Sim work?” he offered, popping his head in the door. You frowned. He was clean-shaven, unlike the small goatee and mustache he’d been sporting before. Objectively, he was attractive either way, but you personally preferred the facial hair.

He frowned back at you. “What?”

Arthur attempted to get up to join his brother, but you held him down to his seat with a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

“What?” you repeated. “Arthur is busy with lessons, your Royal Highness, you can come back in 2 hours, when he’s finished,” you smile politely, though your tone was less than warm.

“2 hours?” Arthur sighed, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m not the one who failed their midterm,” you said, matter-of-factly. He nodded, agreeing.

“Why did you look at me like that?” Charles smirked, walking into the study.

“Like what?” you asked, engrossed in the work, trying to decipher Arthur’s handwriting.

“Like you didn’t like what you saw,” he mused.

You scoffed. “I was just surprised by the baby face, that’s all.”

He frowned, making Arthur laugh. “Baby face?”

“You look like a 12 year old boy without facial hair, it freaks me out,” you pointed out.

Charles left the room with whatever dignity he still had intact, and you and Arthur rather enjoyed the teasing.

“Will you be my guest tonight?” he turned to you, discarding his work.

“What’s tonight?” you asked.

“Some boring drinks and dinner thing with the whole of Charles’s team, and other nobility. It’s going to be such a chore to go without you, please come?”

You smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You kind of hated the whole ‘double agent’ thing. You were getting on really well with Arthur, Charles was enough to stomach (in small intervals), and Lorenzo had been too busy to really meet. Georgia had been on you about different things, but you always had to remember that a) your name was in fact not Y/n, but Martha. And b) You still had to be a reporter. You still had to break into these people’s privacy, and make it a story. You were pretty sure what you were doing was illegal in America, so you were just hoping it wasn’t a crime here. As the night went on you snapped pictures of Pascale, Lorenzo, some of the other nobility and some of the important F1 drivers (a friend was doing an expose on one of them for cheating so… yeah). You didn’t catch a glimpse of his Royal (pain-in-the-ass) Highness all night, that was, until he made an(uncharacteristically (not)) late arrival. You also left Arthur to go hang out with his girlfriend, who had surprised him this weekend by arriving a whole week early.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Arthur smiled, walking up behind you as you tried to take photos of the nobility as secretly as possible. You quickly hid your phone.

“Very much so, thank you for inviting me,” you smiled.

“Staring at Charles?” he questioned, noticing how you’d been following him around the room.

“Trying to find something to eat,” you lied. Again, that pit in your stomach grew every single day that you were at the palace. “Not a fan of the meat-jelly.”

He grimaced. “Me neither, follow me.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Possibly the best gingerbread cookies entered your mouth soon after. “Wow,” you nodded, and he smiled back. You stared at him. “Where’s Jade?”

“She’s off with her friends,” he answered, but you knew it was a guess.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You hated me three days ago,” you chuckled.

“You’re not like everyone here,” he shrugged. “You’re normal.”

You smiled. “I know I’m, normal, btu so are you-”

“A ‘normal’ 24 year old who has a palace and a crown, as well as an affinity for racing cars. I’m so normal.”

You laughed. “No one’s perfect.”

Then a tall man, who looked a little bit like Arthur, joined you.

“Cousin Arthur,” he smiled.

“Cousin Simon,” he sighed, less than impressed with having to see him.

Simon looked at you, slightly confused. “Was your mother feeling charitable, inviting the chambermaids again?” he joked, but it wasn’t funny. Arthur didn't laugh, he groaned.

“She’s my tutor, actually. And I invited her. Mrs. Martha Whelan, meet my cousin, Simon.”

You stood up and held your hand out to be shook, but he shied away. “Nice to meet you Simon.”

“You can address me as Lord Dukesburg,” he explained, taking great offence. Ah, this was Simon Dukesburg, the man who has been after the throne since Arhtur’s father died. He said some of the most out-of-touch shit about Lorenzo, saying he couldn’t be the King because he wasn’t Herve’s blood-related son.

“I find that nobility who require someone to use their title might be compensating for something,” Charles interjected, making you stifle a laugh, whereas Arthur laughed out loud.

“And what might I be compensating for?” he scoffed.

“I wonder,” Charles smirked. Then someone else interjected the conversation and pulled the both of them away from you and Arthur.

“Simon hates Charles,” Arthur explained. “He’s ahead of him in the succession, since it goes by age, not actual blood relation, he’s ahead of me.”

“So if Charles abdicates, Simon has the throne?” you questioned.

Arthur nodded. You looked up at the two men again, and found Charles already looking back at you. You offered a small smile, which was returned, then you turned back to Arthur.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“I'm really not sure there’s any dirt here,” you sighed, explaining it for the millionth time to your boss.

She wasn’t having it. You ended the call feeling even worse than before. Honestly, you were one day away from just leaving the palace all together and admitting your crimes. It was eating you up inside, you could barely sleep, barely eat. It was all a little bit too much for you. You understood that reporters had to be cut-throat, but god, it was hard work pretending to be someone you weren't, especially to people as kind as the LeClerc’s. As you walked through the halls of the palace, unable to sleep, you heard some piano music. You followed the sound and found Prince Charles at his piano, incredibly talented. Sadly, it ended the second he noticed you, about 30 seconds of you being there.

“Sorry for interrupting, your Royal Highness,, I’ll head back-”

“Call me Charles,” he smiled.

Slightly blind-sided, you weren’t sure what to say. “That was beautiful,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” he smiled, getting up. “My father made me take lessons. It’s a great passion of mine.”

“I’ve heard your father was a great man,” you smiled.

“He was,” Charles agreed..

“Won’t be easy to replace him,” you mused, hoping he would give you something, anything worth writing the story over.

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he explained. “No one could.”

“Oh god! No, I didn’t mean it like that- just… there must be a lot of pressure on you, I didn’t mean it…” you trailed off and he smiled.

“Well, you’re under more pressure than you bargained for, right?” he smirked.

Shit. He knew. Somehow. He knew. You were bout to get arrested by the fucking Prince of Monaco. How embarrassing.

“My brother can really be a handful,” he chuckled.

You took a deep breath. He didn’t know. You were safe, for now at least. You chuckled. “He’s actually pretty great.”

“After our father died, he took it very hard,” he explained.

“I lost my mom, same age and everything,” you explained, a flat smile on your face.

He nodded. “So you know what it’s like then.”

You nodded. “Holidays are the worst.”

“I’m glad he has someone to talk to.”

“So, now that you’re back… is it for good? Arthur talks about you all the time. He misses you when you’re gone. Is all that talk about abdication just… rumors?” you questioned, feeling like the worst human being in the world for manipulating this family the way you were. They were good people. Maybe yes, they’re rich and commit tax fraud, but good people.

He sighed. “It’s very hard to know what to do.”

FUCK!

Great. So there is a story. Ideal. It’s not like if he’d just said, ‘yes, they’re all just rumors’, you could’ve gone home and never had to think about the awful things you’ve done here, but now you have to stay, to listen to him. Great.

“I heard you didn’t want to give your… lifestyle,” you asked. “Is that true?”

“What lifestyle is that?” he scoffed, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. The women, wine, and cars?”

“Is that what you think I am?” he chuckled.

“I don’t know who you are, Charles, but if your brother is any indication, I wouldn’t exactly believe everything I read. Good night.”

And with that you left the room, feeling like a terrible person, and he was more than intrigued by you.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Christmas Eve rolled closer and closer, and every night seemed to be one of celebration. You decorated the tree with the family (aka you sat in the corner not eating or drinking because of the guilt, and watched over Arthur, making sure he was alright).

“To family and friends,” Pascale smiled.

“And new friends!” Arthur called, lifting your hand. You smiled at him, thankful that you had a friend there.

“What are your traditions Martha?” Charles asked, turning attention to you.

“Well, my father and I light a candle and we bake my mothers favourite cookies,” you explained, a smile on your face. “I know how it feels to… have someone missing during traditions,” you assured Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Just then, Lady Sophia appeared in the doorway. Lady Sophia, Charles’s childhood best friend and the leading lady of the greatest will-they-won’t-they story of all time. She wore a beautiful long flowing gown with a present in hand for Pascale. She elegantly dodged cousin Simon’s advances (you applauded her for that), and went straight to Pascale and Charles.

“Sophia, it’s lovely to see you,” she smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s lovely to see you too,” she smiled, then moved on to Charles. “Charles, good to see you.”

Charles greeted her with his best flirty smirk, and Arthur turned to you, fake gagging, which made you both laugh. All eyes turned to the two of you for a moment, before you quickly shut up, and the greetings continued. Lady Sophia was staying for Christmas, how wonderful. Maybe you could get an early access to their engagement story- god you felt sick with yourself.

You turned to Arthur engrossed in the small toy car he had in his hands, a gift from his father, he spoke about it as you listened, barely noticing Charles over both of your shoulders.

“I remember when you first got that,” he chuckled, ruffling Arthur’s hair. “You were so happy with it, you wanted to be just like dad.”

“Now you are,” you smiled, squeezing Arthur;’s hand. He’d be moving up to F1 next year, in a Haas seat (Esetban Ocon shit the bed, oops), and Arthur was the next best Ferrari junior driver. Arthur beamed back at you, and Charles gave himself a moment to study you.

You were so gentle, so smart, so kind, so… you. He was entranced by you. You were some sort of enigma. He didn’t want to sound full of himself, but women did throw themselves at him, it was a simple fact, and you didn’t. You weren’t interested in him at all, in fact. It was refreshing.

“Charles!” Lady Sophie called. “Will you put my ornament on the tree?”

He (begrudgingly) took his eyes off of you and joined her at the side of the tree. Funnily enough, her ornament was a heart.

“Be gentle with it,” she told him, and he sighed, knowing it wasn’t just the ornament she was talking about.He placed it on the ree and when he looked back at you, you were already engrossed in conversation with Arthur about something else and he thought it best not to pry. You barely liked him as is, he shouldn’t push his luck.

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The day you get bossed around by Arthur LeCerc may actually be the biggest joke of your life. He found out that you were a journalist, and he didn’t even care. He just… wanted a friend, and for you to write the truth about his brother. Which you were happy to oblige.

So, instead of going over aerodynamics, you baked Christmas cookies.

“What’s with Charles and Lady Sophia?” you questioned, shovelling some of the batter into your mouth. Arthur shrugged.

“She’s had a crush on him for ages, but he’s never liked her back,” he shrugged, eating some of the icing. “She’s always trying to get with him though.”

“Simon seems to like her,” you pointed out, shooing him away from the icing (he’d eaten half of it).

Arthur groaned. “Simon has wanted everything Charles has had since they were 3. He even tried go-karting. He was shit though,” he chuckled. “But y’know, everyone wants what we have.”

You cracked a smile. “You are the royal family of one of the most beautiful countries in Europe.”

Arthur sighed. “It was different though, before my dad died, it was-” he cut himself off, trying to to cry. You pulled him into a hug.

“He’s not gone Arthur, you’ll always remember him,” you smiled, he nodded against your neck. “Come on, we need to get these in the oven before I eat all of the batter.”

He laughed, joining you beside the oven.

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The next morning was the children’s fundraiser, where everyone was expected to be a guest. You, again, were Arthur’s, Jade having left a few days earlier to spend time with her family. One of those asshole reporters came up to you, but he got them away, and you knew that by tomorrow, people would already assume you were his new girlfriend, or something along those lines, so you made sure to tell him to talk about Jade in interviews. After the wonderful carol service, Pascale came out to the stage and addressed the public, announcing Charles’s speech.

When she called his name, he didn’t show.

Arthur sighed, grabbing your hand and running you to the Orphanage. There he was, playing with the children. He looked so… happy. He was telling them about every corner in the Monaco Grand Prix, and telling them what it felt like to win it. They all sat around him, listening intently, desperate to hear from him. You took out your phone and took a photo, seeing a tiny glimpse of that same 20 year old boy from the picture.

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“Charles, help me understand why you were unable to carry out your duty today?” Pascale asked, exasperated with her son.

“I thought my duty was to those children,” his words bit through the tension in the air.

“There is much more to being kind than simply compassion,” she sighed. “You need to be strong, a leader. You need to be someone that those people can look up to and say, ‘that’s my king, and he can make the hard decisions’. Not someone who tiptoes around his duties like a schoolboy. Arthur had to give your speech instead. Now every outlet thinks your abdicating and giving the throne to him right when he’s on the cusp of his dreams-”

“I have dreams!” he shouted. “I have a life, I have a dream-”

“And we gave you 8 years to make it happen. You have to grow up now Charles,” she commanded.

“Mother I-”

“Do you seriously think you’re the only one who wants to run away?” she questioned. “The only one who has dreams, and feelings, and a weariness about everything?”

“I’m-”

“This has been the hardest year of my life,” she choked up. “Lorenzo abdicating, you off in god-knows-where racing a car that can’t win, and Arthur trying his damndest to make his dreams come true, while I deal with it all. While I ‘hold down the fort’. You have a duty to your country, but you also have a duty to your family, Charles. I have complete faith in you, and then some. You will be a brave, and compassionate King. But you need to realise that sacrifice is a part of life. One we may have shielded you from, and I am sorry for that. But you need to make a sacrifice here. Royal life isn’t the prison you make it out to be. You can be happy, and you will be. But you need to learn to be happy with what you’ve got, because you have so much Charles. You have your family, you’ll meet someone nice and then you’ll have your own. You don’t need to race cars to feel strong. You need to be yourself. The people of Monaco are looking for someone they know after a year of confusion and shock. You need to be the comforting voice. I know you can be.”

“I’m trying,” he whispered.

“I have faith in you. You need to have faith in yourself. Don’t try to be your father, be Charles. He’s just as wonderful.”

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Arthur wasn’t going to focus, it was 3 days till Christmas, and he was kind of like an over-excited child. You suggested an adventure, and that is how you ended up racing speed boats with Arthur and a few of his friends. You two won, of course, and he may or may not have accidentally shoved you overboard and made you hit your head. But you were probably fine. Probably. You two relaxed on the water for a while, enjoying the Monaco sun asn the sun began to set and all of his friends went home.

Then you felt something hit into the edge of your boat. Another speedboat. Driven by none other than Prince Charles.

“Race you?” he smirked at his brother, his eyes then landing on you. He stopped, almost doing a double take when he saw you in your swimsuit, his mouth opening slightly. You didn’t seem to notice. Arthur did and he rolled his eyes, hoping against hope that Charles and his master-manipulating ways would pass you by and go onto the next person.

“You’re on!” Arthur shouted back, reeving up the engine, and thus the great race of speedboats began. Sadly, once again, Arthur LeClerc is very much not coordinated, so he shoved you off the boat, again. Charles immediately slowed down, turning back to grab you, but he found you laughing. He reached a hand in, and pulled you up onto his boat, grabbing your waist when you almost slipped and fell. You were close, much too close. You could feel his breath on your face, his eyes staring into yours, the look of shock, but neither one of you was asking to stop. It was different, a good difference. He was right there, right in front of you, and you didn’t look at him with annoyance, or anger, or distance. One of those fleeting moments of the both of you truly just being yourselves. Well, you were Marha and he was the Prince of Monaco, soon to be King. He saw every freckle on your face, every small wrinkle line, every flutter of your eyelashes. He loved it. He loved being this close to you. He loved the way you were smiling at him, and once he’d started looking at your lips, he couldn’t stop.

Arthur threw a snorkel at the two of you, making you jump apart, you almost falling off the boat again (actually your fault that time), but you just fell into Arthur’s boat. “No fraternising with the enemy!”

And the race was back on.

Unbeknownst to you, Lady Sophia and Duke Arsehole (aka Cousin Simoin), were riding by on a perfectly sublime boat ride, and saw the three of you enjoying yourselves. You had joined Charles' side, winning against Arthur every time, and then you’d be swapped back, or Arthur would swap.

Lady Sophia didn’t like it one bit.

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When you got back to the palace, Lorenzo was standing at the top step of the stairs, his mother beside him.

“Where have you three been?” he demanded.

“Lorenzo, we were-” Charles began.

“Speedboat racing in the bay?” he finished.

The three of you stood there, silent and still, unsure of what to do next.

“I suggest next time that you ask permission, Ms. Whelan,” he addressed you, and you nodded quickly offering multiple apologies. “And next time, maybe include the other members of the family. It’s not like we've never raced in our lives,” he smiled, before walking off. You had a feeling they hadn’t seen Arthur this happy in a long time. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in you, that you had been the one to help him get himself back.

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Arthur was busy with his duties, so you were given the day off, the day before Christmas Eve. You needed to get to know Charles better, so you could right all the wrongs online about him. He was going for a bike ride, so you followed suit, clearly forgetting about the fact that you knew nothing about Monaco, and the limited cell-service was really helpful. Oh, and when you fell off your bike and cut the shit out of your knee, you really wondered whether it was you or Arthur who was clumsy.

“Are you alright?”a voice called out, a voice you couldn't quite place, until Charles was in front of you and taking a look at your knee. “This looks bad, come with me.”

He helped you up, and while Mont Agel was beautiful, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, what was he going to do?

Bring you to his secret cabin, of course.

Literally, was this dude James Bond?

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You sat outside on his patio as the sun set. He handed you a glass of water. You thanked him.

“So, now that you’re alright,” he smiled (he’d bandaged up your leg despite the thousands of times you assured him you were fine). “Why were you following me?”

You sighed. “I was curious about Monaco, and I didn’t want to bother you,” lie after lie after lie. You were continuously sick. Maybe that other reporter was right, maybe you did need a new career.

“You couldn’t bother me,” he assured you, an easy smile on his lips.

“So what is… this?” you asked, gesturing to the house. “James Bond hideout or?

He laughed. “No, nothing interesting like that. This is just my house,” he smiled.

“So you’ve lived in Monaco the entire time?” you asked.

“The Palace is a bit too much for me at times,” he explained. “So I come here.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled. “Why do you find the Palace too much?”

He sighed. “Everyone is always looking at me.”

“Everyone is away looking at you in F1 too, you have like, millions of fan-girls,” you giggled.

“That’s different,” he argued. “I’m a driver there, that’s talent and hard work, I was just… handed the throne.”

“You were born into it,” you corrected him. “And just because you came across something easily doesn’t mean you haven’t struggled. I mean yes, it’s a lot of responsibility, but why wouldn’t you want to be King of Monaco?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” he sighed, getting up and pacing the patio.

“It might be good for you to talk it through,” you told him.

“I can’t even go for dinner with my friends without it being an international scandal!” he groaned.

“Like, when you went out with Sophia?” you mused.

“That was different, she sold a story to a tabloid, and the media had a field day,” he sighed, slumping back into his chair.

“The media is what’s holding you back?” you questioned, feeling your stomach twist.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Explain it then,” you smiled gently.

He looked at you for a moment, and for a fraction of a second, you could see that boy from the picture again. The magnetic, messy, smiley boy his parents had adored. The boy who worked so hard to prove himself. Then those walls went right back up and what replaced him was the man; older, wiser, and hurt. “Why bother? You probably think I’m just a spoiled rich kid anyway.”

You scoffed. “I never said that!” you argued, getting up and turning to him. “You know what you need to do, stop worrying so much about what everyone thinks of you, or how they’re going to perceive you. You’re a good person, with good instincts, and despite being actual nobility, you have morals, good ones, the kind that makes you miss a speech because you’re helping children. The kind that makes you worry about your little brother so much that you come home when he asks you to. The kind that makes you kind. Stop trying to be your father Charles, just be, Charles.”

He sighed, standing beside you. “You make that sound so simple,” he scoffed.

“Why isn't it? You’re a smart, talented, caring person-”

“Except when I steal your taxi,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes. He paused for a moment, his eyes shining in the low light of the sun. “I want to show you something.”

You stared at him, grimacing slightly. “What is it?”

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand. He led you through his house, up to a room filled with books.

“You read?”

“After my father died,” he explained. “We kept some of the overflow of his habit here. He also kept his journals here. I found a poem, it was dated just before he died, I think he was going to give it to my mother.”

Frost a sparkle in the fields,

Twixt the frozen minarets,

Winter’s harvest, wager yields,

Heavy burden’s, the years debts,

P[out from a seed, an acorn’s gift,

Henceforth the truth will flood,

Darkness such a secret bears,

A love far greater than blood.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, reading the poem. Charles’s eyes were on you. You were so close, just like on the bat, just like he wished for every single day since you’d come into his life. He leaned in and you didn’t back away. You didn’t run, or lean in either, you were still, your eyes trained on his lips.

Then your phone rang, and off you went to find it. Part of him wanted to grab you back and kiss you, but even he, in his delirious love-filled haze, knew the moment had passed, and he would just have to wait until the next one.

As you two were getting ready to go back to the palace, he left to go grab something from his room. His father’s desk took your attention, and you obliged yourself. Hidden in plain sight was a secret drawer with a stack of documents in it. As much as you hated yourself for it, you took the documents back to the palace with you.

Within those documents you found out a truth, a truth so great, you had no idea what to say. Charles and Arthur were adopted as children.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

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As you were walking through the halls with Arthur the next day, you saw Lady Sophia and Charles… kissing. Great, barf. Anyways. You had to finish your story, get something on the page, make this torment of a trip worth something. If you broke the story today, you could be out of there before Christmas, and their lives would be a lot easier. You thought about coming clean, but the thought of it actually made you vomit in your mouth. You were lost. You had no idea what to do.

So, you called your dad. What else were you supposed to do?

“Y/n!” he smiled, it was only a phone call but you could tell. “How are you?”

“Hey dad, remember how you said I have to take chances to win?” you asked.

“They are my words to live by,” he chuckled, understanding that something was going on. “Is everything alright?”

“What if that chance is going to really hurt people who don’t deserve it?” you questioned.

“I’m going to need more than that sweetheart,” he sighed.

“My story, if I release it, it might hurt someone who’s already been through a lot. I’m just…” you trailed off

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know anything about the world of publishing and reporting, but I do know that you have to trust your gut.”

You smiled. “Thanks dad.”

“I’m better than a fortune cookie, right?” he joked and you both chuckled. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

“Bye dad-” as you hung up the phone, there was a knock on your door. You tentatively got up and opened the door, only to find Charles on the other side, dressed in a Ferrari branded suit, a small smile on his face.

“Hi, is there something I can do for you?” you asked, slightly awkward and unsure. You didn’t really want him to look in your room too much, considering the documents of his adoption were literally on your desk, but alas, what would be, would be.

“I thought we could go for a walk?” he offered. “I can actually show you around Monaco, now that I know you want a tour guide.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t know,” you sighed. The media had been stirring everything up ever since the boat, you were the ‘mystery girl’ being passed around by the LeClerc’s, and it didn’t feel great.

He looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, just give me a few minutes of your time. I would like some company.”

“Sure, let me grab my coat,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

As you two walked through the streets of Monaco, he spoke freely about the beautiful buildings and people he knew so well, while you listened. You liked it, but it broke your heart slightly, to know that you had lied to the entire family for weeks now. But another part of you was grateful that you got to meet them, because you knew you had been changed for the better. It was also nice to see Charles be less… upset than when you first came. He smiled more, laughed more, and spent more time with Arthur, it was lovely to see.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes darting around your face as you looked at the pavement. “Are you alright?”

“Do you often take the help for a walk?” you questioned, your tone soft but the words bit at him anyway.

“What?” he questioned.

“Nothing, it’s stupid. Go back to your story Charles,” you sighed, walking on.

He grabbed your hand, turning you back to him. “Please talk to me. I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

“What would Lady Sophia say if she saw us walking together?” you scoffed.

“Why would that matter?”

“I saw you two,” you said.

“Whatever you saw, trust me, there is nothing there,” he pleaded.

“It didn’t look like that to me,” you scoffed. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“She was just… taking her chance again, even after I explicitly told her not to.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “It doesn’t matter anyways. Charles.”

You were both silent for a moment. He took the opportunity to study your face. The way your eyebrows creased, the tightness of your lips, the determined stare forward. He smiled. You were so smart, and headstrong, and right all the time (which kind of drove him crazy), but he loved it all. He loved you.

“I hope you’ll come tomorrow night,” he admitted. You looked at him confused. “The Ball. My coronation.”

You couldn’t do it anymore. You had to tell him. He couldn’t keep living this lie, and neither could you. “Charles, I need to tell you something-”

But he kissed you. Of course, he fucking kissed you, because he’d been wanting to do it since the day you arrived at the palace. He was in love with you, if he hadn't made that obvious enough, and yes, he kissed you, because the fact that he hadn’t yet was driving him mad. He didn’t want Sophia, he didn’t want anyone else, he wanted you.

And it was everything he could’ve dreamed of. His arms circled your waist, pulling you close to him, while his lips explored your soft ones, the taste of cherry on them. You must use some sort of cherry lip balm, and it quickly became one of his favourite tastes. Your arms slowly crept up to wrap around his neck, and when he pulled back you just pulled him back in.

This was the real Charles. The one who loved people unabashedly and didn’t care what people thought. This was that 20 year old boy in the photo. This was the boy you had slowly fallen in love with, without even realising it.

And it was wonderful.

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Much to your chagrin, while you were off tonguing the next King of Monaco, Lady Sophia and Cousin Arsehole were busy looking through your things. Unluckily for you, they found something.

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Charles sat in the driver’s seat of his Ferrari, half willing himself to man-up, and the other half begging himself to turn around. He couldn't though, not when he was this close to finally visiting his father’s resting place for the first time in months.

He got up and out of the car, your voice in his head telling him to get over himself, with that soft, perfect, smile on your lips.

He walked up to the grave, determined to speak to his father once again.

“I’ll take the crown,” he whispered, his eyes flooding with tears. “I’ll never measure up to you, but I will take it. For you and for mom.”

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You stood in your room, wondering what the fuck one wears to a coronation.

Arthur stood in the doorway, smiling brightly. He frowned when he saw your dress.

“It’s this or pyjamas,” you dead-panned. He walked in, taking the dress out of your hands and sitting on your bed.

“How’s the story coming along?” he asked. “Nearly done?”

“Almost,” you huffed, laying beside him.

He sighed. “I’ll miss you when you go,” he admitted, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. You almost forgot how much he’d been through, his sunny demeanour always seemed to make you forget his troubles. “It was nice to have a friend.”

You turned to him. “I’ll always be your friend,” you smiled. “And I’ll be cheering you on in Haas, and in everything else you do. I think you’re brilliant Arthur, seriously.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I hope everything goes well for you back in New York.”

“I hope so too,” you teased, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“I got you something,” he smiled cheekily, handing over a small box.

“Arthur!” you scolded. “We said no gifts!”

“There was no way I was following that,” he chuckled. “Open it!”

You slowly opened the box, inside there was a beautiful necklace with a beautiful blue topaz on the end. “Oh my god Arthur, this is beautiful,” you whispered.

“To remind you of the boat day” he grinned. “So you will never forget me.”

You smiled, your eyes cloudy with unshed tears. “I could never forget you, Arthur.”

Then in walked Jade, his girlfriend, with an array of gowns on a rack.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“Oh yes!” Arthur cheered.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

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You stood at the top of the steps, terrified of what anyone would say. Arthur had styled you (aka, Jade let him pick the dress) and while you thought you looked beautiful, you were slightly worried about what the nobility in the room would think. It had been fun though, an afternoon of being pampered and becoming friends with Jade was a lot more enjoyable than it was nerve-wracking. You slowly descended the steps, looking for Arthur, when Charles caught your eye. He looked beautiful, his hair perfectly styled, his suit perfect, his face perfect. He smiled up at you, excusing himself from his mother and brother to take your hand as you left the bottom step.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, taking in your dress. IN all honesty, there wasn’t a word for how he thought you looked. Regularly, a look from you made his heart stop. This? A different level. He was enamoured. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even if he wanted to.

You felt your cheeks heat. “Thank you,” you smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I will see you in there, alright? I have to-”

“Do what you need to Charles,” you chuckled. “I’m not running away at midnight.”

He smiled. “I’m glad.”

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Despite the fact that it was a royal ball, it was quite entertaining. Different Duke’s and Duchess’s were dancing, letting loose, and getting pretty drunk, but you just sat with Arthur and Jade and laughed at them. The ballroom was magnificent, the tall ceilings and Christmas lights all around, and in the centre of the hall there was a 36 foot (yes, about the height of a telephone pole) Christmas tree, decorated perfectly. Even though you were miles and miles away from home, it was still nice to be celebrating with people you love.

As you were speaking to Jade, someone started speaking.

“Might I have the first dance, mon amour?” Charles asked, barely above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

You turned to him, your face dropping. “Seriously?”

“Well, as long as you promise not to tread on my feet, we should be alright,” he chuckled, leading you to the dance floor. You joined on, doing a simple waltz (you thanked your father mentally for making you take ballroom classes as a child), and it was very sweet. It was nice to be so open about being close to each other, no longer shying away from each other's affections. You liked having Charles so close. He liked having you in his arms.

Win-win.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said as you waltzed around the hall. “I wouldn’t be accepting the crown if it wasn’t for you, so thank you for telling me to grow up.”

You chuckled. “I think you’re giving me too much credit there.”

He shrugged. “I do not think so,” he smiled. “You make me feel comfortable, you’re the most genuine person I have met since… well probably since birth.”

Again, that nauseating feeling in your stomach urged you to run away and hide from him, even though your heart (as mad as it sounds) longed to never let him go. “I have to tell you something.”

He nodded. “You can talk to me about anything.”

As he spoke, the music stopped, and it was time. He would be crowned King.

“Tell me after,” he whispered, as all eyes went to him. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck.”

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“I dispute this claim!” Lady Sophia’s voice shocked the room and you. Charles was so close, so close to taking his rightful seat as the King, and of course, someone had to make it difficult.

“On what grounds?” the Archbishop asked.

“The grounds that he is in fact, not the rightful heir,” she smirked, smug as ever. “Prince Charles, and his brother Arthur, were in fact adopted by the late King Hervé and our Queen Pascale, therefore are not of the blood of the Royal family, as per this document.”

The certificate was taken from her, and shown to the Archbishop. “Where did you obtain this document?”

“I obtained it by uncovering a scheme by an American journalist, Ms. Martha Whelan, or should we call you Y/n Y/l/n?”

All eyes went to you as the room was full of gasps.

You knew you should've turned tail and ran, you knew you shouldn’t have stayed on when Arthur found out, and you knew you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the Prince of fucking Monaco. You were the dumbest person you’d ever met.

You didn’t dare look at Charles, knowing what his expression would be. You just looked down.

“Is that true, you are a journalist?” the Archbishop questioned.

You spoke confidently, though the regret was evident in your voice. “I am.”

The room was in upheaval. Everyone was angry, everyone was confused, and everyone needed an answer.

“And your Majesty, this certificate?”

The room went silent as Pascale began to speak. “It is legitimate.”

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You were running out as quickly as humanly possible, trailing just after Charles.

“Charles, please, just let me explain-!”

“Explain what?” he spat, turning to you.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen, and I understand that you never want to see me again. I just had to tell you I’m sorry, and the only reason I kept it up was for you and Arthur.”

“And you couldn’t have told me?!”

“Arthur made me promise I wouldn’t tell you,” you sniffled.

His face dropped. “He knew?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. This wasn’t for you to be upset about. This was your mistake, and you couldn't fix it.

“Why wouldn’t he let you tell me? Did he know he was adopted?”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me tell you. I just… he asked me not to.”

He stared at you for a moment, and it wasn’t those same, shining eyes that made your heart leap. It was the cold, dead, reserved eyes that made you want to run away and never come back, that stared back at you. “I’m glad you have your story. I suggest you stay out of our lives from now on.”

And with that he walked on.

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New York was colder than you remembered. You had decided to just go straight to your apartment, turn off your phone, and binge watch shitty reality tv shows until you could show your face in public again without wanting to sob every time you saw something that remotely reminded you of Charles and Monaco.

But something nagged at you. The acorn, the poem, ‘a love far greater than blood’. You didn’t understand it. So you spent about 12 hours working on deconstructing it, and you thought of something. Maybe it was your delusions after not sleeping for a day (or two), but maybe the acorn ornament could prove something, so you sent your findings over to Arthur, hoping they would make sense, and turned your phone back off, blocking all of their numbers and falling into a very needed sleep.

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The next few weeks were full of clearing out your office (you quit), looking for a new job, and starting off as an actual journalist, not just cleaning up some sleaze work. It was nice, peaceful. Writing articles about things that mattered to you, things that would help people, things that weren’t a certain King of Monaco.

Life was good. Getting over your heartbreak was hard, but you were starting to believe that you might actually be alright.

You sat in your dad’s diner, ready to ring in the New Year, when there was a snowball thrown on the glass, and when you looked outside, there he was.

Quickly, you ran outside. “What are you doing here?” you questioned.

He shrugged, “I never got to say goodbye, or thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me, I honestly should be apologising again and again for what I did, I am so sor-”

“You opened a door that should’ve been opened years ago. Arthur showed me what you’d done. Half because I couldn’t believe he could do it on his own, and half because… I thought it was going to be a message from you. You blocked me…”

“I didn’t want to risk bothering you anymore,” you sighed.

“You’d never bother me,” he smiled, pausing for a moment. “Arthur misses you. So do I.”

“I miss you both too,” you smiled. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Y’know, a palace is a lonely place for a king, when he has no queen,” he admitted.

“It’s a good thing you’re an eligible bachelor then,” you chuckled. “Good night Charles, thank you for coming to see me-”

“I love you,” he confessed. “You made me a better man- you make me a better man. I don’t even want to spend time without you, do you understand that?” he asked, getting down on one knee and revealing an engagement ring.

You frowned, your eyes tearing up. “Charles, I am not nobility-”

“I don’t care,” he smiled.

“My entire life is in New York-”

“We can come back as much as you want.”

“What will the people think?” you sniffled, and he stood up, wrapping his arms around you.

“They’ll think you're a kind, caring, beautiful woman with a very intelligent mind, and brilliant ideas, who is loved very much by their King,” he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“We barely know each other Charles-”

“And yet I’ve never been more certain in my life. And I’m known to be indecisive-”

He stopped talking because you’d started kissing him.

Jesus Christ, you were going to be the Queen of Monaco, what a story that was.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months ago

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The One I Want: Part 16

Jake Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: a little smut

Words: 1500

The One I Want Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

“I can’t tell you much,” Jake had told you, but you knew that. “We’re not a hundred percent in the clear, but it’s looking like four weeks, maybe five.”

“Beats fifteen,” you’d said, hearing a rewarding chuckle in return.

You were thankful no one could witness the mess you were at that moment, your face-splitting grin heavily contrasting the puffiness of your eyes from tears. But that was just the beginning of weeks of inner turmoil.

For forty-eight days, your stomach has swirled a storm that’s consistently had you on the edge of nausea, whether from anxiety regarding his safety or butterflies at the thought of Jake returning. You miss him, more than you thought yourself willing to, and regardless of what he told you, nothing guarantees he will walk through the door of your apartment. And if he doesn’t, you know exactly what will happen to you. You’ll crumble into unsalvageable pieces, and no one—not Millie, not Rooster, not anyone who has been kind to you over the last months—will be able to put you back together.

And then what? Your only choice will be to leave. Start anew. Twelfth new place. Except this time, you’ll be more numb, less human, less operable on a daily basis. It’ll be like waking from a dream to a gray environment. You fear nature will lose its color, and you will lose your light once again.

—

It’s another week before your phone rings with a name other than Millie’s plastered across the screen. Unknown Number, but the first three digits are recognizable, matching those of the number Jake has been using to call you with. What you hear on the other end of the line, however, is not Jake, but instead, a gruff voice asking you to confirm your identity.

“Yes,” you answer. “That’s me.”

The man clears his throat. “You are the emergency contact for Lieutenant Jake Seresin. We’d like you to come down to our medical facility as soon as possible,” he says before providing you directions.

You drop your phone, and then you’re running. Running to his truck, running from his truck to base, running through halls until you find someone willing to lead you to him. You’re so terrified, your arms jittery, legs barely functioning from the panic of Jake’s pending fate, so overwhelmed by nerves that when you finally do see him, it pisses you off.

That man with the voice that imbued you with dread is on your shit list for life. Maybe next time, he could lead an emergency contact call with He’s fine or Don’t worry, because his implication was severe enough that you feared lost limbs or damaged brain functioning. But there Jake is, not in a coma or with some life-threatening injury, but sitting on the edge of a bed in a room with his back to you as a nurse seals a strip of medical tape across a small patch of shaved hair on the side of his head.

When she’s done with her work, she smiles at Jake and nods at something he says before walking out of the room. She jumps at the unexpected figure lingering just outside the door, and then realization dawns.

“Oh, you must be the girlfriend,” she says. “You’re welcome to go on in.”

So you do, cautiously easing into the room, hoping that when he turns, his face won’t be covered in slashes and bruises—a sight you’re not sure you can handle with strength and maturity. You’d love him all the same, but to see him in such pain would take you to your knees. But again, he’s fine. Beautiful as ever. Not a mark on him that you can see save for the one on the mend.

Jake’s face brightens at the sight of you; he practically glows, and you’re shocked to discover yourself not running into his arms. You’re frozen for a moment as you take him in. It’s a quick moment—a brief second to recover—but then you’re stepping to him, your eyes watering, your bottom lip quivering, your fingers reaching up to brush over the stark white tape. You’re careful with your feathery touch, relieved to see that his injury is not so sensitive as to make him wince.

Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. His eyes do not break from your face. He’s patient as you scan him once more for visible injuries, verifying for your own sake.

“It’s just the one,” he tells you, his voice soft and only a few notes above a whisper. Your eyes snap to his. He lifts his hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Come here, beautiful.”

You melt when his lips gently touch yours, but the kiss doesn’t last long as innocent. There’s bites and sucking and giving and taking, and it’s perfect in its semi-sloppy neediness. Voices passing by the door is what breaks the two of you apart. Jake lightly groans before he chuckles and rests his forehead against yours.

“I missed you,” he says. He places another quick peck on your lips. “I want to take you home.”

“Then take me home.”

—

“J-Jake!”

You feel his mouth curve against your core before he licks another stripe right through you, tongue like a heated blade slicing you in two halves, spreading you open and baring you inside and out. You’re completely gone—lost in the sole way you’re willing to be lost—as Jake tethers you to this earth. He’s the only one you trust to ground you while simultaneously letting your head float amongst the clouds.

His arms curl around the thickness of your thighs, locking onto you and keeping your hips steady atop the mattress as he devours and tastes and sucks and licks some more.

“Come on, beautiful,” he mumbles into your folds, just loud enough for you to hear through the rush of blood in your ears. “Let me have it.”

As if you could hold it back.

Your whole body jerks and writhes as you sink into pleasure, back arching, head digging into the pillow. Jake reaches a hand up to intertwine your fingers and you squeeze them tightly while he continues to kiss folds and brush his nose against the overstimulated bud.

“There we go,” he coos until your body calms.

Jake crawls onto the bed, lips and tongue traveling up the soft flesh of your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, into the dip in your throat before he kisses you, demanding you taste everything you just gave him.

Jake introduced you to your taste during those weeks before his deployment. His head lived between your legs. He showed you how to perch perfectly on his face, encouraging you through your concerns of suffocating him. He begged you to relax when he backed you up against the wall, slipped your pants off, knelt, and tossed your leg over his shoulder as he dove in. And after each success of making you crumble to pieces, he sealed his lips to yours and pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You know your taste as well as you know his, and on the occasions he spills down your throat before he returns the favor, you get the satisfaction of the combination on your tongue—a mixture more intoxicating than an alcoholic binge.

“I’m never going to want anything like I want you,” he says after he slips inside of you, the intensity of the love in his eyes penetrating your soul.

“Then it's good that I’m yours,” you whisper back.

Thrusts that were paced and steady and gentle falter. With your words comes a sharp rut of his hips—unexpected to you both—that hits hard, deep. Jake chokes on the air in his lungs, his eyes snapping shut as you cry out.

“Fuck” hisses through the grit of his teeth. Then he finds his pace again.

His head falls to your neck. Nibbles make you gasp, and the image of examining claiming bruises in the mirror first thing come morning causes your walls to clench around the veiny column moving in and out of you. Your fingers fist into his hair. Nails dig into the toned muscle of his ass.

“I do love you, Jake,” you say.

He stops completely, but you don’t question it. The fingers in his hair loosen and you lightly scrape your nails along his scalp, down to the base of his neck, then back up into blond locks. Turning your head, you stamp a tender kiss onto his temple.

Jake doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t look at you. His thick breaths burn the delicate skin just under your ear. When he begins to move, he’s slow, taking his time before he picks up, working to nudge that special spot inside of you that tightens a white-hot coil in your belly.

“I love you so much, beautiful,” he whispers.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun maverick #glen powell #jake hangman seresin #top gun #tgm #jake hangman fic

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sexilene · 10 months ago

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Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it.

"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile.

"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.

"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested.

"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us.

"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj.

"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up.

"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself.

"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.

jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.

"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!"

"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened.

as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.

you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.

you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj.

"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."

"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.

"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving.

jj nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood.

the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes.

"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment.

"you're scaring me jj" you whine.

"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.

"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"

"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.

you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again.

"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now.

"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse.

he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move.

"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling your panties to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.

he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out.

part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan.

"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.

"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.

he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust.

"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more.

"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed.

"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him.

"mmnnm jay-"

"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.

"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.

"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum.

"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body. ᥫ᭡

#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#80s!slasher!jj #80s!jj #80s!jj!au #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank #obx x reader #dark!jj #slasher!jj maybank #slahser!jj #jj maybank smut

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resident-idiot-simp · 3 months ago

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X-Men putting the piece together on who Laura is

ANOTHER X-MEN POV ON THE IDIOTS

Laura who is sometimes seen around the mansion with Ellie, Yukio, and Colossus. She is usually brought by Deadpool of all people. Everyone seems to almost.. know her but they can't place it.

Ellie, Yukio, and Colossus aren't answering questions they just admit she's a mutant who they had met.

They try to get Laura to join the school but she rolls her eyes at the meer idea. She seems so extremely uninterested it's admirable. She doesn't talk to anyone besides the previously mentioned three and she seems more than happy with that.

It's a rare day where Deadpool ended up hanging out at the mansion. (They can usually manage to run him off). He seems to be hanging around Laura who actually sees to enjoy his company.

He's talking about anything and everything as he does while Laura chimes in here and there seemingly enjoying not having to fill the silence.

Eventually after a while and a phone call to Deadpool the merc gets up and tells her he has to go but she doesn't have to come with. Laura rolls her eyes before answering as she too gets up.

"Of course I'm coming with you pop."

The Mansion's inhabitants share shocked looks.

"You are just like your father Mini." Deadpool answers with a audible smile as he puts an arm around her shoulders and they head out the door.

The rumor mill goes wild with that one. Surely that's not Deadpool's biological daughter surely.

It was the next time Laura was at the mansion that they got answers. Laura had been hanging out in the library with Yukio when she got a call. She had rolled her eyes as she grabbed at her discarded jacket.

As soon as she said her goodbyes and hung up she had apologized for having to leave early, but her papá was here because something had come up. Yukio had reassure that she understood and walked her to the door.

A motorcycle could be heard outside and on almost forgotten instincts people started to make their way to the entrance waiting for a ghost. They knew Logan had died and they knew their was a new one that had appeared, but he had done his best to avoid them at all costs.

No one had done anything to reach out seeming to sense that there was something very different about this version of the man they knew. Only this time as Laura opened the door there he was. He seemed extremely uncomfortable and a moment away from fleeing but he was there.

Laura had just smiled widely and hugged him. "Hi papá." She greeted voice warbling with a purr...and...holy shit.

Logan hugged her back, "Hello kit." He warbled right back.

It felt like a baseball bat to the back of the head. It was so obvious how did they miss it? Laura looked so much like him it couldn't have been more clear.

Laura was Logan's daughter, Laura was Deadpool's daughter. That ment....oh no

#deadclaws #deadclaw #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #wade wilson #x 23 #wade x logan #logan howlett #wolverine #poolverine #laura kinney #x men #X-men #X-23 #Resi's Shorts

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kwanisms · 4 months ago

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Kinktober 「10:08」 — txt choi line

» txt menu | bg menu | yj menu | sb menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ kumiho!Beomgyu × fem!Reader (feat. kumiho!Yeonjun & kumiho! Soobin) wc: 8.3k summary: When Y/N’s best friends Yeonjun and Soobin dared her to explore an old mine shaft on the edge of town, she never expected to find anything but rock so when she stumbles across an extremely gorgeous man with bright orange glowing eyes, to say she was shocked was an understatement. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: parental death, thoughts of suicide and depression, mental illness struggles; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: we’re back baybee!!!! Sorry for skipping days 5-7 but they will be tacked on at the end, don’t worry! I don’t have much to say about this other than if you don’t like dubcon or CNC, do not read this. I’ve given you all the warnings so it’s up to you to monitor your content consumption. That being said, there’s not much else to say other than thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), dacryphilia, CNC (if this makes you uncomfortable, DO NOT READ), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), biting (f receiving), foursome (in a way. Just… you’ll see lol), use of pet names (doll, darling, sweetheart, etc.) that should be everything? Let me know if I missed some. kinks: Dacryphilia + CNC dialogue prompt: ❛❛ I love it when you cry. ❜❜ + ❛❛ What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex? ❜❜ + ❛❛ Your panties are soaked already. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

“You are so full of shit,” you laughed, pushing Yeonjun's shoulder. The tall dark-haired man looked at you in shock before turning to the blond male next to him who seemed silly uninterested in the conversation at hand.

“Soob,” he whined, sounding like a child tattling to his parents, despite being the older of the two. “She's being mean!” He glowered in your direction as Soobin, who had been twisting pieces of grass together with no goal in mind, sighed heavily. “You’re being annoying,” Soobin said softly, not even looking up.

“Will you please tell her it’s true though?!” Yeonjun said, nudging Soobin’s knee. The younger man looked down at his black pants, noticing a few specks of dirt on the material. “Yah,” he said in a low tone as he brushed them away. “Don’t touch me with your dirty feet.”

Yeonjun groaned, dramatically, throwing himself back on the grass and hitting his head with a dull thud which sounded like it hurt. Your suspicions were later confirmed when he let out a groan, lifting his head to rub the back of it. “Ow,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Soobin who exchanged looks with you.

You had learned pretty quickly that Yeonjun was often dramatic for effect and that Soobin didn’t fall victim to it which in turn made you not fall for his act. “What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked, looking at Soobin’s hands. The blond looked up at him with an uninterested look on his face.He glanced down at the blades of grass in his hands, twisted together like some early stage rope.

“Nothing,” Soobin said, tossing the grass in Yeonjun’s direction. The older man clicked his tongue as one of the blades fluttered through the air and landed on his leg. “Don’t put your grass on me,” he said in a gruff voice as he brushed it away. Soobin wordlessly reached out, grabbing a handful of grass and ripped it up from the ground before throwing it at Yeonjun.

It rained down on him like green confetti. “YAH!” Yeonjun said, sitting up quickly. You picked up a clump of dirt and flicked it at him. “Calm down,” you said in a monotonous voice. Yeonjun glared at you before settling back on his elbows. “He’s rubbing off on you too much,” he said, nodding pointedly at Soobin.

You had met the two a few years back. They were what the residents of your town called ‘drifters.’ They moved from town to town, never staying too long. Nomadic was another word you heard thrown around. Except for the fact that Yeonjun and Soobin had been living in your small mountain town for nearly three years now.

They hadn’t been able to find an apartment since your town had one apartment building and land was too expensive so they lived in the only motel in the town, sharing one room with two beds. The motel was old, outdated, and didn’t see a lot of visitors. Only the occasional drifters.

The town itself was an old mining town and from the mid 1800’s to the beginning of the twentieth century, it was a prosperous town. But just after the start of the Great War, it fell onto hard times when all the able bodied men were pulled and made to serve. When they returned at the conclusion of the war, the town had been reduced to nothing more than a shell of its former self.

You were born and raised there. It was all you knew. You had been one of the fortunate ones to leave upon graduating high school and attending college in the next town over, gaining new experiences and meeting new people. Afterwards, you landed a job in the city and moved much further away from home.

After a couple years, you returned to your hometown when your mother got sick and your father was unable to work and take care of her. Thankfully, you were able to find work in the next town over which was only an hour commute in the morning and the evening. You moved back into your childhood home, updating your old bedroom.

Just before you met, Yeonjun and Soobin, your mother’s health had taken a turn for the worse and she ended up being hospitalized and passed away. You had every intention of moving back to the city and trying to get your old job back but you found yourself unable to leave your father like that.

It was just you and your father for a while and then one night when returning home from work, you found your father unconscious on the kitchen floor. Paramedics arrived and pronounced him dead at the scene. In less than two years, you lost both your parents.

You inherited the house but you spiraled into a deep depression. Your boss and co-workers were understanding, giving you time to grieve and even allowing you to work from home as your depression worsened. It was hard to even pull yourself out of bed and oftentimes, you thought about driving out to the old quarry and ending it all.

During one of these visits that you ultimately chickened out of, you found yourself at the twenty-four hour diner in town. You walked in, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a single mug of coffee. As you sat there, behind you, in the back corner booth sat two men who were clearly annoying one another but when you looked, you could tell they were quite possibly the best of friends.

You knew you’d never seen them before and when they noticed you noticing them, it was like a lightbulb went off and an instant connection was formed. They moved from the booth to take a seat on either side of you. One of them, Yeonjun, noticed how you looked like hell. The other, Soobin, told him to knock it off and asked you the most mundane of questions.

“Are you okay?”

His inquiry made you break down in the middle of the diner and it was then they forced you to sit at the booth with them and you poured your entire soul out onto the table over ice cream, pie, and coffee until at least four in the morning. That night, your life was forever changed by these two and the three of you became as thick as thieves… whatever that meant. You always heard people say that but never knew what it actually meant.

“Earth to Y/N,” Yeonjun’s voice broke through, knocking you out of whatever trance you had been in. You looked at him staring at you with a dumbfounded look. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, hissing in pain when Soobin pinched his ankle. “Stop being such a dick,” Soobin said softly, brows furrowing as he glared at Yeonjun.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “I was just disassociating.” Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “You’re not thinking about jumping into the old quarry again, are you?” he asked, earning a slap from Yeonjun. “What?!” Yeonjun yelped, holding his arm where Soobin’s hand had made contact.

You simply laughed, drawing their attention. Yeonjun looked alarmed but Soobin’s expression softened. “I’m fine, guys,” you said, waving your hand and dismissing their concern. “I was just staring off into the void.” Yeonjun snorted. “Did it stare back?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No,” you answered. “She was polite and didn’t make eye contact.”

Yeonjun nodded before clearing his throat. “Anyway,” he said loudly. “I was trying to tell you Soobin and I know it sounds ridiculous,” he added. “But there really is something that lives in the mines.” You glanced at the taller of the two who rolled his eyes. “Rats,” he said softly. “Rats live in the mines, Jjun,” he countered. Yeonjun glared at him. There was a look there, an understanding that happened in a split second that you didn’t seem to pick up on.

“Oh, you’re talking about that,” Soobin said suddenly, making you look up, snapping your attention to him. “What?” you asked, glancing between the two. “What is he talking about? What’s that?” you asked. Yeonjun smiled slowly, turning his attention to you. “Some say it’s a monster,” he said nonchalantly. “Others say it’s a man.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “You’ve lived in this town for what? Three years?” you asked, raising a brow at him. “What would you know of our folklore?” Yeonjun pretended to look offended. “Your tiny town is famous all over the mountain,” Yeonjun said, pausing for dramatic effect. “And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you know all these mines connect to one another via the natural cave system?”

You perked up at that. “Wait,” you said softly, turning to look at Soobin. “Is that true?”

The blond man sighed, glaring at Yeonjun before turning to look at you. “Yes,” he said softly. “The mines are all connected, theoretically,” he said, emphasizing the last word and looking at Yeonjun as if to make a point. “No one has entered one mine and exited another from a different system.” You relaxed back into the grass. “That’d be pretty cool if they did,” you said softly.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you enjoyed the light breeze of early autumn.

“Why don’t we check it out?”

Your eyes snapped open and you lifted your head to look at Yeonjun. “Are you nuts?” you asked. “When did you become a spelunker?” Yeonjun snorted as he pulled himself up, crossing his legs as he sat on his backside. “I’ve always been interested in caves,” he pointed out. “And the mines.”

You sat up too, completing the trifecta of you sitting in the shape of a triangle, facing an invisible center between you. “What’s so interesting about the mines?” you asked. “They’re always a hotbed of activity,” Yeonjun replied. “People died down there,” he continued. “They’re probably, like, hella haunted.”

Yeonjun let out another yelp as he received a second slap from Soobin. “You’re right,” the younger male started. “People died down there.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Not anyone we know,” he retorted. Soobin threw a look in your direction. You waved your hand. “My family were all white collar workers,” you said quickly. “My parents moved here when mom was pregnant with me. None of my relatives died down there.”

“Come on!” Yeonjun said excitedly. “Let’s explore it!” Soobin looked at you hesitantly. “I don’t know…” he trailed off. He looked extremely apprehensive. Like he was worried about you. “It’s fine,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. “I’ll be fine, Binnie,” you continued. “I’m a big girl. And besides. I wanna see the mines!” Soobin moved his hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“You’re absolutely sure?” he asked. You nodded, smiling widely at him. “Yes,” you answered. “It sounds like a lot of fun!” Yeonjun smiled triumphantly, looking at Soobin with a smug look. “See?” he said softly. “I told you she’d be down!” You were almost bouncing where you sat on the hard ground, the sun setting behind and casting a golden glow over everything.

“Fine,” Soobin said, a soft wind picking up around the three of you, the leaves on the trees rustling slightly. The orangish glow hit both Soobin and Yeonjun and made them look almost… ethereal and you could have sworn you saw their eyes flash for the briefest moment to match the orangey- gold color of the setting sun.

“Let’s do it tomorrow.”

The next day, you packed some clothes, tight fitting and warm for the trip down into the caves. You might have to spend extra time down there and seeing as you’d never been, you didn’t know how big the system was. Yeonjun and Soobin said they would handle all the gear you needed and meet you at the old mine entrance.

As the sun was on the rise, you reached the meeting spot and found Yeonjun and Soobin waiting for you, each supporting a decent sized pack on their backs. “You weren’t kidding,” you said softly with a chuckle as you drew level. “You really went wild on the gear.”

Yeonjun shrugged. “I told you, I’m interested in caves. I’ve investigated a fair share of them.” You turned to Soobin for confirmation and when he nodded, you felt much more at ease. “What about you?” you asked, looking up at Soobin. “I’ve been in a few,” he answered. “Enough to know what to do.”

“We should get going,” Yeonjun said suddenly. “We don’t know how long this is going to take and the sun is rising.” You followed his gaze up to the sky that was slowly lightening up to a periwinkle as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. It hadn’t yet broken over the mountains but it was getting there.

“Lead the way,” you said, glancing between the two, wondering who was going to take the lead and not surprised in the slightest when Yeonjun turned and headed for the entrance. You followed, with Soobin in tow and bringing up the rear.

The entrance was mostly unobstructed with only a few planks of wood in place. It was very dark beyond where the low level of light could reach. Yeonjun reached into a hip pouch, producing two flashlights. He handed one to you and clicked his on, shining the light into the void.

“It looks pretty clear,” he said as he moved around the light. For such a small flashlight, it was certainly powerful. “Come on,” he added, starting into the mouth of the mine. It wasn’t as large or as grand as you were picturing and upon entering, it immediately started to dip down a mild incline.

The walk down was long, rocky, and for the most part, relatively easy to hike. Yeonjun stayed in the front and Soobin in the back, making sure to keep you in the middle. It made you feel much safer. The ground started to even out after a while and soon you reached a junction. It dawned on you that none of you had been down here and you were suddenly worried about getting lost.

“Wait,” you said as Yeonjun started for the left fork. “What if we lose our way?” you asked. Yeonjun glanced at Soobin. “She has a point,” Soobin agreed. “We should at the very least mark our path so we can follow it out.” Yeonjun nodded and looked around. “Oh,” he said. “This should work.”

You watched as he knelt down, removing his pack and unzipping one of the pockets, starting to sift through it. He pulled out what looked suspiciously like a chisel which was confirmed by the next words out of Soobin’s mouth. “Why the fuck do you have a chisel?”

Yeonjun’s smile fell and he frowned at the taller man. “Shut the fuck up,” he snapped back, zipping his pack back up and getting to his feet, pulling the bag back on. “If you’ve got something better, I’m all ears,” he added as he walked towards the entrance of the leftmost cave.

You glanced back at Soobin who shook his head with an exasperated sigh and then nodded, gesturing for you to follow. You started forward, shining your light around. As the beam passed over the entrance to the right, you could have sworn you saw something glowing, almost like a pair of eyes.

You stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at the tunnel, shining your light back over the entrance. Soobin ran into you from behind and made you drop your light. “Oh shit,” he grumbled, quickly bending down to snatch it from the dirt and hand it to you. “Why’d you stop?” he asked softly.

You glanced up at him. “I thought I saw something,” you said, returning your gaze to the right cave. Soobin followed your gaze. “It was probably your eyes,” he said softly. “The dark likes to play tricks on you.” You felt his hand take yours and he started forward. “Come on,” he urged gently.

“We’ll lose Yeonjun if we don’t keep up.”

The rest of the way into the mines, Soobin held you hand and while it did make you feel better, you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. As you descended further and further, you started to see more and more signs that something had indeed made the caves its home.

Carcasses of various small prey animals were scattered about, mostly just bone left behind. You reached a large chamber where the ceiling was full of stalactites and bats roosted in between them, clinging to the rock as they rested.

“Oh wow,” you said softly as you heard the sound of water and shined your light into the far end of the chamber to find a small pool and a waterfall. It wasn’t a particularly large or powerful cascade but it meant that it led from somewhere.

You rested briefly with the guys, munching on fruit snacks and protein bars. Once you were ready to go, you started for the only exit you could see. You stopped by the water, kneeling down to dip your fingers into it. “It’s freezing!” you said, your voice laced with excitement. Soobin smiled as he watched you while Yeonjun inspected the exit.

“Come on,” he said softly. “It’s this way.”

You glanced up, finding his choice of words a little odd. “It’s?” you asked as Soobin held a hand out for you to take. You accepted, placing your hand in his and letting him pull you to your feet. “Poor choice of words,” he said simply. “He probably meant the other mine,” he added. You nodded and allowed Soobin to walk forward. Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of scraping and froze.

You quickly turned your head away from where Soobin was heading for the large opening and shined your flashlight around the chamber. You couldn’t see anything but you heard another scraping sound and instead of ignoring it and following your friends, you turned and started back into the chamber.

Besides the stalactites and stalagmites forming, there were also a good amount of stalagnates and other rock formations in the cave. You walked slowly, carefully shining your light around as you investigated the source of the noise. You reached an empty wall and sighed. ‘Nothing.’

You turned back around and let out a gasp. Before you stood a man you’d never seen before.

You looked over him, expecting him to be injured in some way but he looked unharmed. He was tall, maybe about as tall as Yeonjun. He had short black hair similar to Yeonjun’s but styled slightly different. His eyes were a goldish orange and seemed to almost glow in the darkness of the cave.

“Uh,” you said softly, looking around him nervously to see if Soobin was still standing at the exit of the chamber where Yeonjun disappeared earlier. “Hi,” you greeted the man. He simply tilted his head, staring at you with a look of curiosity. “Who are you?” the man asked in a surprisingly clear voice.

His question left you baffled. Instead of asking for help or anything one might expect of encountering a stranger in a cave system, he asked you a question as if you’d just intruded into his home.

Yeonjun’s words came to mind. ‘Others say it’s a man.’

You stared at the man before you with the glowing golden-orange eyes. “Who are you?” you countered, catching him by surprise but it only lasted for a moment before a smile settled onto his face. Not an unsettling one but certainly not one you were expecting to see.

“I’m Beomgyu,” he said simply. “I’m a kumiho.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at him. ‘He was right,’ you thought. “Holy shit,” you breathed. Yeonjun was right. A creature did live in these caves and it was right in front of you while your friends were nowhere to be seen. ‘Fuck.’

“Are you all alone down here?” he asked, drawing you from your thoughts. ‘Wh-what?’ You stared in shock at him for a moment before answering. “N-no,” you lied. His smile slowly dropped. “Now,” he said softly before tsking. “Don’t lie to me.” You felt a chill up your spine as he spoke, taking a step closer.

“Okay!” you said, backing up. “I’m not alone! My friends are here. They went that way —” you started but he cut you off. “Went off and left you all alone?” he asked. “Left you all defenseless,” he added, taking another step forward.” Poor little bird.”

Each step was punctuated with a step until he had you backed against the wall of the cave and caged in between his arms. “Some friends they are,” he whispered, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Left you all alone down here with a monster.”

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as you felt one of his hands slide down your arm to your waist.

“And what an absolutely delicious morsel you are.”

You let out a whimper, holding back tears but Beomgyu simply chuckled and backed away slightly. “I’m only teasing,” he said softly, reaching up to caressing your cheek before taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “I’m not going to eat you,” he started. “Yet,” he added with a wink.

“I’m inclined to let you go in fact,” he continued. Your heart jumped at the mention of being set free. “But you first must do something for me.” The small glimmer of hope faded away quickly as you stared at Beomgyu. “You must play a game of riddles with me.”

Your eyes looked around the cave before settling back on him. “Riddles?” you asked incredulously. He nodded. “Yes. Riddles. If you get three out of five riddles correct, I will let you go but if you get three out of five wrong…” he trailed off, licking his lips as his golden-orange eyes scanned over your frame.

Your cheeks burned and you awkwardly shuffled your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Okay,” you replied meekly. “It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway.” Beomgyu smiled, showing his pointed canines. Much sharper than was considered normal for a human.

“No,” he answered. “You don’t.”

You straightened up, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well,” you said softly. “Get on with it.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed but instead of remarking, he cleared his throat to deliver the first of five riddles.

“I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place. What am I?”

You stared at him as his words sank in. ‘The beginning of the end, and the end of time and space.’

“Beginning of the end,” you whispered to yourself as you mulled over the words again. “Take your time,” Beomgyu said softly. “We have all day and night.” You glanced at him as you continued to think.

“Essential to creation and surround every place?”

“Beginning of the end, and the end of time and space…”

“Oh!” you said suddenly, snapping your fingers. “The letter e!”

Beomgyu’s smile returned and he nodded. “Good,” he answered. “Here’s your second riddle,” he said, moving to lean against one of the stalagnates, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ripped from my mother’s womb, Beaten and burned, I become a bloodthirsty killer. What am I?”

You stared at him in mild horror. “Ripped from my mother’s womb?” you asked incredulously. He nodded, smiling at you as you started to look around, turning the words around in your head. ‘Bloodthirsty killer?’ you wondered. The gears were turning in your head but you were coming up blank.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally relented, hoping the other three riddles wouldn’t be this hard.

“I…” you cleared your throat. “I don’t know.”

Beomgyu’s smile turned into a smirk. “I was hoping you might get it, considering our location,” he said with a tone of mocking sympathy. “The answer is iron ore.” You stared at him, suddenly feeling very foolish. You were standing in a mine and you missed the riddle about mines.

“That’s one to one,” Beomgyu said. “You have three chances left.” You nodded and motioned for him to give you the next one.

“Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen. What am I?”

The answer came to mind immediately.

“An iceberg,” you fired back. Beomgyu’s brow furrowed. “Have you heard that one before?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you answered truthfully. “I’m just obsessed with the sinking of the Titanic,” you continued. “I know Icebergs are much larger under the water than above it.”

Beomgyu studied your face for a moment before relenting. “Fine,” he said. “Two to one. Next riddle.”

He gave you another which you got wrong making it two to two. You’d lost track of time and it felt like hours since you last saw Soobin or Yeonjun. Beomgyu was now standing right in front of you, leaning against the wall as he caged your body in, your back pressed against the rock. “What happens if I lose?” you asked softly. His eyes traveled down your body back back up.

“I get to keep you.”

‘Keep me?’ you wondered silently. “What does that mean?” His smile grew slightly. “It means you stay down here for me for as long as I want.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as he got even closer, lips inches from your ear. “Ready?” he whispered. You nodded wordlessly, silently praying to whatever that he would give you one you could figure out.

“I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?”

Your heart sank as you slowly realized this one was going to be hard to solve and your assumption was proven right as you spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure it out.

“Do you give up?” Beomgyu asked, tilting his head. He’d been more than generous, allowing you two guesses but you were on your third and you were coming up blank. You didn’t want to stay down here in the caves with him for however long he decided. It could be days, it could be years, it could be forever. Surely, your friends would come looking for you, right?

They wouldn’t leave you here, right?

You hung your head in defeat, the sound of Beomgyu’s chuckles sending yet another chill up your spine. “Poor little bird,” he cooed, placing a finger under your chin and lifting your head. “Bound to spend eternity here in the caves with me.”

Your eyes widened. “E-eternity?!” you gasped. Beomgyu chuckled, grabbing your wrist. “As long as I want, remember princess?” he asked. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He pulled you along the cave, stopping at the pool of water. He turned to you, grabbing the straps of your bag and pushing them off you. “Leave that here,” he said softly. “You won’t need it.”

You tried to protest but Beomgyu grabbed your hand, surprisingly delicately and stepped back into the pool onto a rock jutting out from the side of the pool. “Come,” he said in a commanding tone. You hesitated for only a moment before your body reacted, following him into the pool. The water was freezing. Bumps erupted across your skin, your nipples hardening in your bra as the chill of the water set into your body.

Beomgyu pulled you to the edge of the rock and stood behind you. “Deep breath in,” he said softly into your ear, hands moving to your arms, just under your shoulders. You inhaled slowly as you stared at the water, trying not to panic. “I hope you can swim.”

Beomgyu pushed you off the rock into the water. Your body splashed loudly and immediately, you kicked towards the surface, sputtering as you surfaced. You shook the water from your face and looked around the dark cave, illuminated by the flashlight you left by your pack.

You saw no sign of Beomgyu. You started to swim back to the side and almost reached the edge when you felt something grab your ankle and drag you down. You kicked and fought against the entity but soon lost the battle, losing consciousness in the process.

When you came to, you were laying on something soft. Your eyes slowly blinked open, light invading your senses as you tried to wake up. Your limbs were heavy and it was hard to move. Your eyes took a long time to focus but finally, they did.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings.

You seemed to be laying on a bed of what looked like furs. There were various colors but they were all extremely soft. You thought back to the scattered animal bones that you saw in the cave and now you knew who the culprit was. As you tried to sit up, you realized your clothes had been removed and you were covered with a brown blanket. You brought your arm up, holding the blanket against your chest.

“What the?” you whispered as you looked around further. You raised your eyes and noticed a massive hole in the ceiling of the cave you were in. Light was filtering in, bathing you in a bright glow. Your ears picked up a scraping sound and you looked down, eyes trying to see beyond the sunlit area but it was no use. You couldn’t pick up anything.

“I see you’re awake,” a voice said softly from beside you. Turning your head, you tried to see past the circle of light, squinting but you were still unable to make anything out. Another scraping sound rang out from the other side and your head snapped in that direction.

“Did you take my clothes off?” you called, raising a hand to shield your eyes.

“Your clothes were wet,” he said simply. “I am sorry about that by the way.” You squinted in the direction of the voice. “The only way to get here is through the waterfall,” he continued. “And that water is quite cold.” You listened carefully, hearing soft footsteps making their way towards you.

“I did, however, bring your pack,” he stated. “There were some clean undergarments in there and I put those on you.”

Finally, a figure emerged from beyond the edge of the light. It was Beomgyu. He stopped at the edge of the pile of furs. “Is this your home?” you asked, looking up at him as you made sure your body was covered. He nodded, hands tucked into the pockets of his clothes. Before you hadn’t noticed but he was wearing a simple tunic and a pair of dark pants. He wore no shoes.

“Did you… do anything to me?” you asked softly. Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he said, removing his hands from his pockets. He slowly knelt onto the pile of furs, crawling towards you at a tortoise’s pace. You leaned back, holding the blanket up to your chest with both hands now. He slowly leaned over you, forcing you to lay back against the bed.

“Would you like me to?” he asked quietly, one of his hands taking your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing against your bottom lip and pulling down slightly. “I could do anything you want me to,” he said softly. “Be anyone you want me to be.” You watched in shock as his form shifted effortlessly into the familiar face of one of your friends.

“Come on,” he whined in Yeonjun’s voice, your friend’s dark brown eyes looking back at you. “It’ll be fun!” You shook your head, trying to push him off you. “Or perhaps someone else?” he asked and again his form shifted into that of your other friend. “Yeah,” he said in the low, collected tone of Soobin.

“You seemed awfully close to this one.”

“Stop it!” you shrieked, shutting your eyes and turning your head away. “Hey,” he said, his voice back to normal. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you more comfortable.” You opened your eyes slowly, Beomgyu’s face coming back into view. “I could be anything you want. Fulfill any fantasy or desire of yours,” he added, cupping your cheek.

“All you have to do is say yes.”

You stared up at him, skin heating up under his gaze as the weight of his body settled on top of you. He lowered himself, pressing against your core through the blanket. “I could also just take you right now,” he added, rolling his hips slightly. “It’s more fun if you fight.”

You blinked up at him, processing his words. “What if I… pretend?” you asked in a soft voice. He tilted his head. “Pretend? Pretend what?” he asked, sounding every bit curious. “What if I pretend to fight you? If it’s more fun. Wouldn’t it be better if I gave you my consent?”

Beomgyu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t think I understand,” he started. “Are you saying you’ll give yourself to me but that you’ll fight me?” You nodded. “In a way. I’m consenting to sex but if you want me to struggle, I can pretend.” A smile slowly grew across his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing before.”

“I’ll give myself to you and pretend to struggle and fight against it but only if you promise me something,” you said as his hand started to wander. “And what’s that?” he asked, lips brushing against yours as he leaned in. “That you’ll stop if I really ask you to.” He frowned slightly but quickly his expression went neutral. “Fine,” he started. “But how will I know when to stop?” he asked, tilting his head.

You wracked your brain for a safeword. “Pumpkin pie,” you said suddenly. Beomgyu gave you a perplexed look. “If I say pumpkin pie, you need to stop, okay?” His golden eyes studied your face for a moment before he nodded. “Fine. I accept your terms,” he said,

“Now,” he said softly as he laid his weight on top of you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

“Tell me about your fantasies. What do you want? Do you want me to stay like this? Or shall I change into one of your friends?” he asked with a smirk. You shook your head wordlessly. “Just like this is fine,” you said. “Good,” he said softly. “But I can’t promise I won’t shift a little while we’re in the midst of it.”

You were about to protest when he leaned in, capturing your lips in a heated but cautious kiss. He was testing the waters, lips moving against yours as one of his hands continued to roam, exploring your body over the blanket. “You’re supposed to fight me,” he murmured against your lips, hand slipping under the blanket and darting between your legs.

“S-sorry,” you stammered as his fingers pressed the fabric of your underwear into your sex, chuckling as he felt how wet you were growing. “Your panties are soaked already,” he murmured, amused at how easy you seemed to get aroused. You let out a whimper as he slipped his hand dipped past the waistband of your panties, feeling between your folds.

“So wet and ready for me,” he purred. “You’re supposed to be struggling against me, love.”

You mentally cursed again. It just felt so good having his fingers working against your clit. “S-sorry,” you murmured again. You tried to push him off you but he was clearly much stronger. He moved his arm, pressing his forearm against your collar across your chest and holding you down.

“Keep struggling,” he said, a glint in his eye. You tried to throw your weight into it. “S-stop,” you said softly. “Oh I think you can do better than that,” Beomgyu said, fingers halting. “Go on now, do it properly.” You stared up at him as his fingers started to move again, inching down towards your entrance. “S-stop! Get off me!” you nearly shouted.

Your voice echoed around the cave, the smile on Beomgyu’s face spreading. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Keep fighting me.” You grabbed at his shirt trying to push or pull him off you to no avail. The more you struggled and found more confidence the more excited he seemed to get.

Finally you threw everything into it, managing to flip him onto his side. You quickly tried to get up but he was quicker, grabbing you by the ankle and pulling you back, dragging you back onto the bed. You fought against his hold, trying to slap his hands away as he grabbed you and turned you over onto your stomach.

You hadn’t used your safeword and if truth be told, you were enjoying this. You kicked and struggled, trying to throw him off you until he managed to climb over you, pinning you legs down between his thighs, grabbing and pinning your wrists down next to your head.

“Oh, I’m going to have fun with you,” he said, his voice full of excitement. You tried to struggle against him, screaming at him to get off you. He leaned over, lips near your ear. “If you want me to stop, you know what to say. Are you going to use that word?” You shook your head. “No,” you whispered.

Beomgyu chuckled darkly, pushing himself back up. “Good,” he said as he pulled your arms, moving them behind your back and scooting back so he could grab your panties. “I’m sure you have more of these,” he said softly, running his fingertips over the lace.

You heard the fabric pull against you, biting into your skin as he ripped them off you, discarding them somewhere. Your bra followed, being ripped in the same fashion and discarded quickly. Beomgyu held your wrists with one hand as the other moved down, sliding over your backside.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice taking on a different tone. You turned your head, seeing out of the corner of your eye, he’d changed his appearance to that of Yeonjun. “I said stop doing that!” you said quickly. Yeonjun’s face looked up at you, a devilish grin spreading over his face.

“Are you using your safeword?” he asked, tilting his head. Your heart skipped a beat. “N-no,” you whispered, letting out a moan as his hand dipped between your thighs. “That’s what I thought. The appearances weren’t part of the deal, doll,” he continued. “If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to use your safeword, otherwise…” he trailed off, fingers finding your slit and sinking into your cunt.

He let out a sigh as your warm walls welcomed his fingers. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock,” he murmured, still in Yeonjun’s voice. It was uncanny but your walls clenched around his fingers and he chuckled. “Do you often think about fucking your friends?” he asked.

You were rendered speechless as he curled his fingers slowly, starting to pump in and out of you. “I’ll bet you do. Two tall handsome guys like that? I bet they would jump at the chance to have even a taste of you. Don’t you think so?”

You moaned in response, burying your face into the furs. “I’d really like a taste of this,” he said softly as he pulled his fingers out of you. “Will you be good long enough for me to get a taste of this pretty little cunt you have?” You moaned, nodding again as he squeezed your ass, kneading gently.

“On your back then,” he murmured. You did as he asked, rolling onto your back. He used the lapse in attention on you to remove his own clothes but he was down on his stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to his face. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips before he glanced up at you.

“No fighting me,” he warned. You nodded silently. “I promise,” you breathed out. He smiled, giving you a wink. “Good girl,” he said before dipping his head, tongue pressing between your lips to find your clit. The moment he got a taste, he let out the most erotic groan you’d ever heard and it was like a feeding frenzy had started.

His tongue moved expertly, dragging over your clit in slow strokes, alternating between soft and hard, flicking the nub with the tip of his tongue and gently sucking. Your hands flew to his dark hair, fingers locking in the tresses. It was surreal to have him between your thighs, looking identical to one of your best friends but you’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about this at least once.

Yeonjun was an extremely good-looking guy and you trusted him. He may be annoying at times but he was smart, funny, kind, and more importantly, loyal. Anyone would want someone like that. His confidence was extremely attractive and he exuded it.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, thighs trembling as your orgasm neared. The kumiho, back in the form of Beomgyu, noticed and pulled away. “No!” you cried out as you were robbed of your climax. “So eager to cum already?” Beomgyu chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s the only way I can…” you trailed off, realizing you’d said too much.

You felt Beomgyu kiss his way up your stomach and chest, skipping over your breast until he reached your neck. You tilted your head away, allowing him more access. His tongue ran over your pulsepoint and you let out a cry as he sank his teeth into your skin.

“It’s the only way you can what?” he whispered into your ear. “Nothing,” you answered quickly. Beomgyu clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Come on now, darling,” he cooed. “You can tell me.” Yeonjun’s voice was back and when you opened your eyes, you were looking into his brown ones. “It’s me, you can tell me anything, right?”

You let out a squeak as his fingers slipped back inside you, pumping steadily. It was enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to give you release. “It’s the only way I can cum!” you blurted out in the deceivingly comforting brown eyes of the kumiho masquerading as your best friend.

“What do you mean?” he asked, tilting his head, looking every bit a curious puppy. “I’ve never…” you trailed off and he seemed to pick up what you were hinting at. “No,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Never?” he asked. You nodded, feeling quite embarrassed about what you were admitting to. The fox spirit stared at you in shock.

“What do you mean you’ve never come from sex?!” he asked incredulously. You tried to cover your face but he grabbed your wrists. “What loser have you been fucking?” You whined in shame, face heating up as you tried to pull your wrists free. “Oh no,” he said. “We’re not having that.”

He turned you onto your stomach. “I’m gonna make you cum,” he said as he grabbed your wrists, pinning your arms behind your back. It was then you realized you were supposed to be struggling against him. You tried to pull but he merely pressed you down into the furs.

“Change of plans, sweetheart,” he said as he nudged your thighs apart. “You don’t need to fight me. I’m going to make you cum on this cock until you can’t take it anymore,” he continued, holding your wrists with one hand as he guided the head of his cock to your hole. You felt him rub the tip through your folds, gathering your wetness before he slowly pushed into you.

You let out a groan as he sank his cock in, your warm walls squeezing and inviting him deeper, sucking him in further. You moaned loudly as his hips snapped forward against your ass, sheathing himself in one motion. It was sudden and harsh and sent a stinging sensation through your cunt as it stretched around him. “Oh, you’re so warm,” he groaned.

His voice had changed again.

You glanced over your shoulder finding the familiar face of Soobin, chocolate brown eyes staring back at you and his blond hair a mess. You clenched hard around the cock currently lodged in your pussy, making the kumiho groan as well. “You seem more receptive to this one,” he murmured, pulling back slightly. He thrust into you, making you gasp.

“Much more receptive,” he continued. He released your wrists and instead wrapped an arm around your chest as he pressed his weight on top of you. He started a steady but fast pace with his thrusts, the wet sound of his cock pumping in and out of you filling the cave and echoing over the sounds of your moans and panting.

“Squeezing so tight,” he murmured in your ear, sending chills down your spine. His hold tightened as he pulled your back against his chest. “M’gonna fuck you so full,” he growled in your ear. You whimpered, corners of your eyes burning. The pleasure was so overwhelming, moving you to the brink of tears. A small sob escaped you and the fox spirit halted his movement.

“Are you crying?” he asked, sounding amused. “Does it feel that good?” he asked. You nodded, choking back sobs, tears starting to fall onto your cheeks. “Fuck,” he groaned, cock twitching inside you. He quickly pulled out, turning you onto your back before sliding back into you. Your tears didn’t stop when he started fucking you harder in this position, grunting with the effort it took to deliver each powerful thrust.

You let out a cry of pleasure, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“Fuck,” he growled. Soobin’s voice sounded so different. So animalistic. You’d never heard him sound like that before and it made you want to know what he really sounded like in the midst of passion. Not that you would probably ever learn. You’d have to settle for what the kumiho would give you. It was a likeness to be sure and the closest you’d ever get.

“God, I love it when you cry,” he groaned, pounding into you. Each thrust had a strained sob mixed with a moan falling from your lips, more tears flowing freely. “Fuck, I could cum just from watching you cry.” You let out a moan, cunt spasming around his cock as your orgasm hurtled towards you.

You felt him snake a hand between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts, driving you over the edge. Your walls clamped down on his cock as you came, a loud moan escaping you as your back arched off the bed.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it sweetheart, come for me,” Soobin’s voice said in a deep, strained tone. “Gonna make me cum.” His hips stuttered as he let out a low moan into your ear, he thrust into you a few more times before he finally came, his thick load spilling into you and painting your walls. “Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, burying his cock into your used cunt and stilling there as he tried to catch his breath.

You passed out quickly and when you woke, you were wrapped up in the same brown blanket the furs under you were warm and soft. The sun had set, replaced with the moon instead which casted a silvery glow over the bed. You blinked the sleep away and started to sit up. Beside you was Beomgyu, fast asleep.

You heard voices whispering and looked out to see the cave wasn’t much bigger than the area where you lay. There was a small slit in the rocks that extended up about ten feet and beyond it you could hear rushing water. To the left, you noticed a fire and two figures. Your eyes widened as you realized they were the forms of your two friends.

“Y-Yeonjun?!” you called out. “Soobin?!!” They heard you and lifted their heads, turning to look in your direction. You let out a gasp as you met their gazes and saw staring back at you two two sets of golden-orange eyes.

‘No,’ you thought.

“Didn’t you find it odd that I knew their forms so well?” Beomgyu whispered from beside you, nuzzling into your neck. “That I knew every single detail and their voices so well?” Suddenly everything made so much sense. The subtle clues were there all along as far back as you could remember since meeting Yeonjun and Soobin.

“We weren’t even supposed to stay this long,” he said softly. “But they kept saying how enticing you were. So sweet, so kind, so pretty,” he continued, pressing kisses against your skin. “I just had to see for myself,” he added. You glanced at him, taking your eyes off Yeonjun and Soobin.

“And now that you’re here,” he added, reaching up to cup the side of your neck. “You’re not leaving.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his golden-orange eyes burned into yours. “And neither are we,” a voice said softly in your ear. You turned your head, locking eyes with Soobin. “He told us how much you seemed to enjoy it,” Yeonjun said from behind you, trailing his fingers up your spine.

“Especially when he shifted to look like Soobin.”

You felt a strong hand grab your chin gently but firmly and turn your head. You met Soobin’s gaze. “If you wanted me so bad, you should have just said so, sweetheart,” he said in a deep voice. “I would have gladly let you in my bed.”

He leaned in, lips brushing against yours. “You got a preview,” he murmured, breath hot against your face.

“Now how about the real thing?”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

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spacerockfloater · 8 months ago

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Every time Team Black stans talk about Rhaenyra’s bastards and the Dragon Twins as if they’re blessings upon this earth, an angel loses its wings.

Like, okay. They’re children, I’m excusing all of them up to a certain point. But they’re some of the most vicious, aggressive, cowardly, snotty brats we’ve ever seen in this franchise and pretending that they’re not is so foul.

Lucerys is a hypocritical twat that bullied the boy he grew up with because he didn’t have a dragon, but then he’s totally okay hanging out with Rhaena who doesn’t have one either. And then he pulls out a knife and blinds Aemond for no fucking reason, after his gang attacked him first, and faces zero consequences for his actions. He eventually grows up to become an even worse person by literally laughing in his cousin’s face, whom he disabled. And then he tries to boss lord Borros around by telling him that he’s obligated to ally with Rhaenyra even if there isn’t anything in him for it.

Jacaerys is also very two faced for the exact same reasons as Lucerys, with the addition of having anger management issues. Like, remember how he beats the living shit out of his little brother when they’re training at the beach, kicks him to the ground and grabs him by the throat because he is upset their uncles are better warriors than them? That’s the good future king you’re all talking about? He is already obsessed with the idea of becoming king, to the point that his own mother has to remind him that she’s actually alive and well and he would have to wait a good fucking while before his dreams come true. That’s actually so sick on his behalf. Not to mention that he very likely married Sara Snow, betraying his fiancée, in order to gain the Starks’ help, which is very dishonourable. At least Lucerys told Borros he’s betrothed and refused to marry one of his daughters to get his support, I’ll give him that.

Baela is a deranged evil girl who was ready to throw hands on sight, too. And have we forgotten that she becomes a drunkard and whoremonger who spends her money gambling in the rat pits, the places where children fight one another in King’s Landing, once she grows up, or is it wrong only when Aegon II does it?

Rhaena is an aggressive coward who seems more preoccupied with the acquisition of a dragon than her mother’s death. She didn’t have the guts to go and claim Vhagar, but she feels powerful enough to confront Aemond when she has three people backing her up.

Finally, even without taking all of their problematic traits into account, these people are so severely uninteresting and unimpressive. Lucerys does not convince Borros to side with his mother and drops dead like a fly. Joffrey gets shrugged off by Syrax and plummets to his demise. Jacaerys is immediately killed during his embarrassing attempt to fight the Triarchy, not to mention that he was the reason his youngest half siblings were captured and nearly killed because he had the brilliant idea of sending them away. Baela loses the only dragon fight she was ever part of to Aegon II and Sunfyre who were very injured by a previous fight already! And Rhaena is just… there. Doing nothing. Never avenging her husband’s death, eventually marrying a Hightower. Yikes.

Are there much more ill behaved children in ASOIAF? Yeah, for sure, but we actually acknowledge that children like Aegon II and Joffrey Baratheon are pieces of shit. But if we could like, stop glorifying these four mediocre and borderline malicious kids solely because some of you feel the need to ride the dicks of everyone who is part of Rhaenyra’s crew, that would be great. They might be children, but they’re children with shady, putting it mildly, personalities, wielding new-clear weapons of mass destruction who actively participated in a war, especially Jacaerys and Baela. They sure were victims of the world they were raised in, but they were aggressors as well. And like, this is the ASOIAF universe, nearly all of our protagonists are children. We can’t constantly apply modern day morals and coddle them forever because “OMG, they are just babies!”, unless we are ready to apply the same logic on the Targtowers, who were basically the same age as Rhaenyra and Daemon’s children.

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honestsycrets · 2 years ago

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Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]

Chapter II: Corazón

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked.

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur and @ivarsrideordie for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!

In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable.

You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know?

The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.

The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else.

“Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?”

“Did you know?”

You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.

“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.

You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation.

“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--”

“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.”

“They love--”

“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?”

“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.”

“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.”

“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.”

“Why can’t it be?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded.

“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”

Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.

“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.

“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier.

“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.”

“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.

“Hobie, por dios.”

“He broke up with you, didn’e?”

You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words.

“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.

“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.”

“How sweet.”

You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab.

“What is it now?”

“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”

“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”

“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.”

You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.

“That hurt, Hobie!”

Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--

“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.”

“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.”

“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?”

Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.

“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.

“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”

“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”

There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.

Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did.

“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.

“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.”

Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?”

“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.”

“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.”

“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.”

He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them. You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck.

“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.”

Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work.

“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”

If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was.

“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.”

“You should be able to control your own feelings.”

“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.”

Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care.

“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.

Fine. If he was going to ignore you--

“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?”

There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.

You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?”

“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?”

Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”

You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”

The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.

“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”

No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.

Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long.

That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.

“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?”

He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying.

“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.”

His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.”

Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”

“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.

“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.”

“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.”

“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it.

“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again.

His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus.

Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts.

You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright.

“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--”

“Muñeca,”

“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”

“You would if he was?” he bristled.

“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart.

“You didn’t need to.”

“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?”

He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you.

He didn’t need to say it.

“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”

#Miguel O'Hara x Reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #spider 2099 x reader #sy writes #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot #across the spiderverse imagine #marvel imagines

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sixpennydame · 8 months ago

Text

dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 2]

Pairing: Yakuza!Levi x F!reader

Word count: 6.2k

Newly out of prison, Levi is thrown back into life in the yakuza.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content

Author's Note: A huge thank you to my beta reader @bitchymanlet - you were such a big help through this!

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

“Inmate 012025, Ackerman. It’s time.”

With a loud thud, the heavy, titanium doors slide open, and bright light fills the small cell.

”Hands against the back wall. Make it quick.”

Levi stands up and walks to the back of his cell. With a sigh he raises his hands and presses them against the wall.

Immediately a guard grabs his arms and places them behind his back, before clicking the cold cuffs around his wrists.

“Don’t give us any trouble now, Ackerman.”

As if he would do something today, of all days.

The two guards lead him down the corridor, past all the other cell doors; Levi can feel the other inmates staring out from the tiny window on their cell door. Their eyes follow him, wild and predatory.

But Levi Ackerman had never been their prey.

One of the guards presses a code into a keypad and another heavy door opens. There’s a series of offices, all behind thick-plated, forcefield glass. The three men move toward a desk where a woman with blue hair, deep wrinkles and uninterested eyes types in the air. With a blink of her eyes, the screen before her disappears.

”Ackerman, Levi?”

Levi nods and the woman takes a device that scans his eye, confirming his identity.

“Hold out your right hand.”

He does so, while she scans another device over his wrist. There’s a sharp sting, and then the glowing tattoo of his inmate number - 012025 - was gone.

“That takes care of the detection device implanted inside your wrist,” she informs in a monotone voice.

Levi touches the silver button behind his left ear. “What about my cerebral comm system?”

“It’s been completely deleted. You’ll have to have someone reactivate it.”

The woman moves to a back room and returns with a large vinyl bag.

”Here are your belongings. You can change there.” She gestures to a door just outside their office cluster.

Levi takes the items, walks to the room and closes the door. He steps out of the grey prison jumpsuit and stands there in just his underwear, looking at the stack of clothing he hasn’t seen or felt in almost five years: a black t-shirt, black combat pants, boots, socks..

He puts on each item, and wonders if he’ll feel different - if he’ll revert back to the man he used to be before he was put behind titanium bars.

But he doesn’t feel different. He doesn’t feel….anything.

When he finishes dressing, the guards walk him to the outer gate of the prison. The forcefield comes down and Levi takes his first step outside as a free man.

”You’re late. I’ve been waiting out here for over 30 minutes,” comes a voice from behind him.

Levi turns to see a tall man with sandy brown hair leaning against a cherry red vehicle. “I thought you’d done something to get another year added to your sentence.”

”Tch, as if I had any say in what time they’d release me.”

”You look like shit.”

”Takes a piece of shit to know one.”

Both men glare at each other, then the tall one smirks. “Good to see you again, Levi.” He pats him on the shoulder.

”You too, Farlan..” Levi replies warmly.

”Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

The car’s engine purrs as Farlan weaves in and out of traffic. Levi is enveloped by the leather seat, the glow of the neon accents inside reflecting off of Farlan’s dark suit coat.

”Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” Levi says.

“The last few years I’ve been managing all our legit businesses, making sure they look good on paper. At least good enough that nobody will snoop around further.”

”So you’re a paper pusher,” Levi remarks. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

”Beats fixing the books for underground gambling rings,” Farlan answers defensively. “It’s the same concept though, just a different arena. I’m suited for this.”

Farlan had always been smart. He knew how to work the angles and how to get people to let down their guard.

They’d met at the orphanage they were both put in during one of Neo Tokyo’s efforts to, “alleviate the growing population of homeless children littering the city’s streets.” Farlan had convinced Levi that his calorie bar - the only thing they received for dinner - was infested with invisible larvae and that if he gave it to him he'd get another one. Finally figuring out he’d been conned, the next day he punched Farlan in the face and took his daily ration.

They’d been friends ever since.

During their teenage and young adult years with the Ackerman clan, everyone knew their names. They had their hands in almost every backalley operation - from gambling to fights and everything in between.

And if Farlan had been the brains of their operation, then Levi was the brawn. Farlan could shake people down through intellect, and when that didn’t work, Levi would beat them to a pulp. Together, they were feared and respected.

They had been equals. But now, after five years, Levi felt left behind.

“So where are you taking me? I need a shower.” Levi scrunches his nose at the musty smell emanating from his clothing.

”To your apartment. I made sure they didn’t touch anything. It’s all there as you left it.”

”Probably a dusty mess…but thanks for looking after the place.”

”Wasn’t that hard. Not like you had much stuff in there.”

”…and Isabel?” Levi asks tentatively, afraid to know the answer.

”Still functioning, and still entirely devoted to you. She could barely contain her excitement today.”

Levi felt a rush of relief. He never thought he’d feel any sort of affection for an android, but Isabel was different. She was a friend and comrade, and had saved his ass on more than one occasion, stitching up his cuts and gashes from a fight or standing beside him during a back alley brawl. But he was often surprised by how human she behaved sometimes, tearing up when she’d see a dead animal on the side of the road, or stealing food to give to a needy family.

Sometimes he thought she was more human than he was.

The buildings grew higher and higher the closer they got to the city center, their reach seeming to pierce the orange-red sky of the late afternoon. The next thing he knew, Farlan was pulling up to his apartment building, both of them entering the elevator decorated with layers upon layers of graffiti, and finally walking down the hallway and standing in front of his apartment door.

It was finally hitting him. He was free.

”I bought you some suits, hopefully they fit. Though you do look like you’ve bulked up a bit.”

”Not much else to do in prison but exercise. I tried to train as much as I could, too. I wanna get back into the ring.”

“After all this, you still want to fight?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just…nevermind. Take a shower, get dressed,” Farlan hesitates. “Oyabun wants to see you this evening.”

“Oyabun…” Levi repeats, the word turning sour in his mouth. “Your professionalism is getting on my nerves. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m some new recruit.”

“That’s who he is, Levi. He deserves our respect.”

Levi grimaces. “So Kenny’s pulling my leash already, huh?”

”Levi.. I know things were…strained between the two of you before, but he kept you protected while you were in prison.”

”Bullshit.”

”Believe what you want.” Farlan waves his hand in surrender before walking towards the door. “I’ll be back this evening.”

”Don’t bother, I can drive there myself. Where’s my bike?”

“It needed some tuning up since it’s been out of commission for so long. Isabel’s getting it ready for you.” Farlan turns to grin at his friend. “So you’re stuck with being chauffeured by me just a little longer. See you in a few hours.”

The door shuts and Levi is surrounded by silence. It’s a different sound than he’s used to; even though it’s the space he lived in for years, it feels unfamiliar and new.

His eyes scan the room; it really was exactly as he left it. Always the minimalist, his small sofa nestled in a corner across from a dining table with two chairs. No pictures, no books; the only personal item was an antique ceramic teapot and two cups.

”Petra.”

Suddenly, the lights fade up in the room, as if the apartment itself was coming to life.

”Welcome back, Levi,” the female voice resonates in the space, “it’s good to have you back. I haven’t been activated in such a long time.”

”Yeah, I’ve been…away.”

”Shall I prepare you some tea?”

”That’d be great,” Levi pulls off his shirt, “but I’d like to take a bath first.”

There’s a chime of recognition and then, “The bath water is ready. Please relax, sir.”

”Thanks.”

Levi had always felt prompted to treat Petra respectfully, even though he knew she was just an apartment AI - an assistant built into almost every home in Neo Tokyo. But it was so rare for him to hear a kind word from anyone in his life, so hearing her voice made him feel like he was being reunited with an old friend.

He takes off his clothes and turns on the shower, taking a sponge to wash away the dirt and grime from his body and hoping in some small way, that it might wash away some of the memories as well.

But those proved harder to get rid of. He knew only time could do that.

He finally sinks into the steaming bath water and a heavy sigh escapes his lips; he can feel his muscles relaxing with the heat, years of built up tension slowly melting away. The Martians of Neo Tokyo knew what an important resource water was, but now Levi felt it in his very bones.

Stepping out of the bath, he looked at his naked body in the mirror. He was bulkier than he was five years ago, Farlan was right about that. His lean, muscular frame, useful for street fighting and cage matches, was now replaced by more defined arms and chest; it was noticeable now, even beneath the tattoos swirling on his body.

A giant eagle, designed in the classical Japanese style, stretched across the length and width of his back; its wings outstretched and talons out, as if attacking prey. A red moon shone from his right shoulder and clouds wrapped around his torso, swirling up his abs and around his pectoral muscles. Over his left pec was the Ackerman clan crest, the Japanese character for power, 力, encased inside a circle.

That had been his first tattoo, when he was initiated into the Ackerman clan as a teenager. That felt like an eternity ago now.

His yakuza tattoos covered many of the scars Levi had received throughout his life, but there were new scars from his years of incarceration. He collected them all like badges of honor; evidence that he’d survived another day.

He found his electric shaver and erased the light stubble growing on his face, then decided to shave his undercut again, just like he’d always had it. But this time, he kept his hair slightly longer than it had been before. He slicked it back with a comb, exposing the sharp features of his face - flawless, except for one scar running through his right eyebrow, breaking it in two and barely missing his eye.

He’d forgotten how he'd received most of his scars, but that one…

…he’d never forget that night.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walks to his bedroom.

”Petra, I’ll take that tea now. Green jasmine.”

”Right away,” she responds.

As Farlan had promised, there were several suits hanging in the small closet. The yakuza were old fashioned, and clan members always preferred the look of the classic, tailored suit, in contrast to the bright and bold fashions prevalent on the streets of the city. Levi scans each one and decides on a dark navy blue suit with a white shirt. In a drawer are several ties, but he decides to forgo them and instead keeps the top two buttons undone, slightly exposing his chest tattoos that start just under his collarbone.

If Kenny wants him to wear a suit then he’ll do it his way.

He rummages through another drawer and finds his gold earring stud. The hole in his ear has grown smaller but he pushes it through, wincing just a bit as it breaks through skin. He welcomes the pain, though. Pain has always made him feel alive.

“Your tea is ready, sir.”

Levi takes the tea cup from the food preparation compartment and eases into a chair that’s facing his balcony window. How long has it been since he’s had a steaming cup? Tea wasn’t the type of contraband that could be obtained in prison, no matter what an inmate had to trade. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a sip, breathing in the aroma.

”These are imported leaves from off-planet. Where did you get them?”

Petra blinks on. “Mr. Church wanted to make sure that you had the best for your homecoming.”

Levi’s lips turn upward into a faint smirk.

Farlan.

He guesses his old friend can afford things like this now. No more slumming it like they did when they were kids. He’d made his way in the world, and now Levi wanted to as well.

But first things first…

He finishes his tea then grabs his suit jacket. “Petra, I’ll be back later,” he says to the room, before stepping out of his apartment and into the city streets. The sun was just starting to set, creating a copper glow to the sky as it reflected off the high rise buildings and skyscrapers. Neo Tokyoites filled the sidewalks, bustling from one place to the next, but no one drifted an eye toward Levi as he walked along the city streets - just another face in the crowd.

The city hadn’t changed much since Levi had left it, but even if it had, he could make it to his destination with his eyes closed. He takes a right, then a left, turning into a narrow alley and scaring a cat or two before arriving at an unmarked door.

He knocks once, a pause, then two more quick knocks.

There’s commotion on the other side of the door, as if someone is scrambling towards it. Then it bolts open.

“Aniki! I knew you’d come!”

A small red-headed young woman throws her arms around Levi’s neck, practically throwing his body across the alley.

“See? Didn’t I tell you he’d come right away?” she boasts as she pulls him through the space Levi had once used for training. His punching bag was still there, gathering cobwebs in the corner, along with his other training equipment, but the rest of the room was now littered with electronics and various tools.

And sitting in another corner was Farlan, scrolling through his comm device as he lounged in one of the only chairs in the entire space.

“Isabel knew you wouldn’t stay in your apartment for long, so I thought I might as well just wait for you here. Saves me a trip, anyway.” Farlan smirks.

Isabel can hardly contain her excitement. “The trio is back together, just like old times!”

Old times…Levi thinks as he looks around the space. Everything - and he’s sure everyone - has changed, but it’s a relief to see that Isabel is still the same.

Levi puts his hand on the top of her head. “Glad to see that Kenny didn’t get rid of you once I was arrested.”

“What? No way! Farlan got me out of there the moment you were busted. He’s been getting me steady work ever since, working on bikes and cars, even some augments here and there.” Her face beams, “Kenny may have thought me a useless android, but I’ve been making my own way.”

That also gave Levi some relief. Throughout these past years, he’d wondered what had become of the spunky little android he’d saved from the wrecking yard.

Levi had always had a soft spot for things that were considered broken beyond repair.

“Isabel, I need you to reboot my cerebral comm connection.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, not a problem.” Isabel takes his hand again and leads him to a part of the room with a computer connected to a multitude of cables.

Levi sits on what looks almost like an examining table, leaning his face into the light above. “You’ve got quite the set up here.”

“Since I’m not a certified augmentation android, I have to stay under the radar, so most of my clients come from Farlan or from word of mouth.”

Isabel rolls her chair over to Levi. “Just turn your head to the right for me…” One of her small hands finds the silver button behind his left ear and with one swipe of her tool, pops it out.

“Let’s see what I can do here..”

There’s a slight sense of pressure as Isabel sticks a cable into the port, connecting Levi to her computer. She rolls back over to her station, clicking her keyboard methodically.

“All your contacts are still here…at least they didn’t try to wipe your memory for names and information.”

“Oh they tried,” Levi remarks, “but it didn’t work. Seems my Ackerman genes are good for more than just kicking people’s asses.”

“I bet that pissed them off,” Farlan adds, still scrolling through the air with his pointer finger as images only he can see moves across his eyes.

“Almost there..” Isabel says, intensely concentrated on her computer screen.

There’s a few more clicks of her keyboard, and then Levi feels a slight jolt of electricity through his head.

“And that should be it.” Isabel rolls back over the Levi, disconnecting him and replacing the silver button. “You should be connected to your old contact list now.”

“Thanks.” Levi pats her head again and she grins from ear to ear.

“I’ll have your bike ready for you tomorrow.” The red-head responds while Levi gets up from the examining table. Farlan gets up, giving both of them a look that says it’s time to go. As Isabel walks them to the door she puts a tentative hand on Levi’s arm.

“Aniki…once the word is out that you’ve been released, people are going to wonder when you’ll start fighting again.”

“That’s a good question, and one I’m about to get an answer to,” he responds.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Ackerman Clan headquarters was housed in a nondescript, four-story building, just on the outskirts of the entertainment district. The only thing that made it stand out from the other business buildings was the Ackerman crest emblazoned next to the door; no other signs were needed, and inhabitants of Neo Tokyo didn’t have to be fluent in Japanese to know its meaning…

Power. The word that’s synonymous with Ackerman.

Farlan pulls up and the door to his car lifts up automatically. “Oyabun is in his office - I assume you remember where everything is.”

“You’re not coming in.”

“Nah, not this time. Kenny wanted to meet with you privately, and I have a meeting to get to, anyway. I’ll see you later this evening.”

Levi steps out of the car, straightening his suit jacket before stepping up to the door. The moment he touches the handle the door unlocks for him.

At least he knows he hasn’t been completely shut out of the organization.

There are voices coming from the second floor - new recruits, most likely, being made to clean and prepare dinner for the evening. Levi remembered the hierarchical structure well; it was something he’d also had to go through in his teenage years. But unlike the others here, he wasn’t recruited into this clan.

It was something he was born into.

The elevator takes him to the top floor, which was reserved entirely for the clan’s leader. Levi walks through the empty reception area and knocks on the office door.

“Come in,” a low, gravelly voice answers.

Behind the door is a room split in half; the front part serving as a reception area and in the back, a broad desk surrounded by pictures of past leaders. The man behind the desk grins broadly then stands up, gesturing to Levi to come in. His face shares many of the same features as Levi: a sharp profile and even sharper eyes of a stormy grey hue. He’s taller than Levi, however, and leaner, with a powerful aura that fills the entire space.

“Look who’s back from the dead,” he says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Levi scoffs at the phrase, but it’s true; the last few years in prison made him feel like a corpse, a half-life that dragged on and on. In a way, he has been resurrected.

“Kenny…” he says sharply, “you wanted to see me.”

”Of course I did! It’s not every day that I can celebrate the release of my nephew from prison.” He gives Levi a once-over. “You survived with all your limbs, that’s good. And you look strong,” he frowns, “but not any taller.”

Kenny laughs at his own joke and then offers for Levi to sit, but he refuses, standing in front of the broad desk with his arms crossed.

“And no better sense of humor either,” Kenny deadpans before sitting on the edge of his desk. “Always so serious. But no matter…let’s get right to business.”

At that, Levi finally sits, though he’s on edge and alert, not sure where this conversation might go.

Kenny walks behind his desk where a katana sword is displayed. He picks it up and slowly removes it from the sheath.

“You know, Levi, we Ackermans have been feared for our strength for generations, even before we were yakuza. This power has shaped us into what we are today. I’ve been preparing you to take on this role someday, but you’ve been a pain in my ass from the beginning: disobedient, disorderly, and headstrong. That fire in you needed to be beaten into submission.”

Light glistens off the katana as Kenny moves about the room. “I let you do those cage matches because it gave you a purpose and kept you compliant. But when you started earning huge sums of money, and weren’t paying your dues to me and your brothers - well, that just wouldn’t do.”

Kenny stands in front of Levi now, the katana held loosely at his side. “I hope your time in prison taught you a thing or two about respect, Levi. What I say, goes. Always.”

He pauses, as if expecting to get some sort of reply from Levi, but gets none.

“You were supposed to lose that match - that was the deal we’d set - not beat the humanoid within an inch of his life. You lost me an incredible amount of money, and respect from the Reiss Agency. So you needed to be taught a lesson.”

Levi’s hands ball into fists in his lap, his nails digging into his palms. He takes a deep breath before he responds. “Consider the lesson learned. When can I start fighting again?”

“Fighting?” Kenny laughs. “You think I’m gonna put you in the ring again after that stunt you pulled? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It’s time you started preparing for a bigger leadership role.”

Levi grits his teeth. He wants to grab that katana Kenny holds and slice him right down the middle.

He could do it - he’s strong, probably stronger than Kenny now. He could do it and finally be free.

He takes a breath. No, this isn’t the time.

Be smart…

Kenny presses a button on his desk and a few seconds later, a tall, blonde woman enters.

“Sir,” she says in a stern, serious voice.

“Levi, you remember Caven. She’s my wakagashira now.” He grins. “The title you should have had. I suppose you’ll have to usurp her someday.” Levi can tell that it gives Kenny no greater joy than to think of the two of them fighting for the role and for his approval.

Caven’s eyes slide towards Levi, her body on edge, as if Kenny could call for them to fight any minute. Kenny laughs. “But that’s a problem for another day. Caven, introduce Levi to the new shatei - he’ll be in charge of them now.”

At that, Levi stands up. “What? I don’t want to be in charge of some brats.”

“Oh, but you will, Levi. Because what I say goes.” Kenny’s eyes darken and his voice lowers. He walks towards Levi, looking down at him, the katana still in his hand. “Got it?”

Levi looks away, wordlessly conceding to Kenny’s demand. He turns to follow Caven out of the office.

”I guess this is when I’m supposed to welcome you back,” she says coldly.

”Don’t bother. We don’t have to pretend that we like each other.”

They both walk down the stairs to the second floor. “I’m not sure what you mean, Levi. You’re my brother. We’re all family here - or did you forget that while you were in prison?”

Levi clicks his tongue at the statement. He always thought the yakuza’s obsession with family laughable; if this was supposed to be a family, then it was the most dysfunctional one he’d ever known.

Not that he’d really ever known anything else.

The brief times he’d ever felt the true bonds of family was when he was with Farlan and Isabel, or as a small child, when it was just him and his mother. But those years were fading from his memory with every year he grew older.

“Speaking of which,” Caven opens the door to the second floor, where there are clattering and raised voices coming from the living area.

”I told you to clean this place up!”

”I did! Why can’t we just have androids do this?”

”There are no androids here, idiot. Oyabun is against it. Now hurry up, our brothers are gonna be here soon.”

Caven pinches the bridge of nose and gives a heavy sigh. “Connie! Jean! Get out here.”

Two young men emerge from the room: one on the smaller side, with silvery grey hair and a buzz cut; the other tall and lanky, his light brown hair growing slighting over his undercut.

They both look at each other then at Levi, mouths slightly agape. Caven clears her throat, clearly disappointed at their sudden lack of manners.

”Connie, Jean, this is Levi. He’ll be your big brother from now on and will prepare you to be a true member of the clan.”

”Levi… Ackerman…we heard all about you,” Jean says, bowing deeply. When he sees Connie still standing there staring, he pulls him down as well. “It’s an honor, sir…uh, aniki.”

They both stay in a bow and Levi shifts uncomfortably. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

”Take them around on neighborhood patrols and payment collections. You know, standard stuff.” Caven raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve forgotten the basics.”

Levi gives Caven a cold look, then walks over to his new younger brothers, their bodies still at a ninety degree angle.

“Ok, that’s enough. You don’t have to bow to me.” Levi looks around the space as they stand up. “You were cleaning?”

Jean rubs the back of his head nervously. “Yeah…then we were gonna start cooking dinner after we finish this…”

Levi’s discerning eyes continue to survey the room, seeing every hairball and clump of dirt left behind. “Oh, you are nowhere near finished.” He hangs up his suit jacket. “You. Baldy.” His finger points at Connie. “Go get the mop. Jacques – ”

“...it’s Jean, sir..”

“-- get a rag and start wiping everything down.”

“But we just cleaned —,” Connie interjects, but when Levi glances towards him, his mouth clamps shut.

“I’ll leave you all to it, then,” Caven says, sauntering away. “Good luck, you two.”

Connie and Jean immediately start their tasks. Levi rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

”I’m sure you’ve heard lots of things about me, but one thing you should know right now: I do not tolerate filth.”

”Yes, aniki!” They both answer.

”I’ll start on dinner prep. You two join me when you finish here.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s not long until other clan members start ambling into the building for dinner. Levi hears their voices before he sees them, and the corners of his mouth curl into a slight smile.

”It smells cleaner in here! Could it be?”

A tall man with long, blonde hair strides into the kitchen. “If it’s not the man himself! Oi! Levi’s back, everyone!”

“Pipe down, Eld, the whole damn neighborhood can hear you,” Levi chides, before shaking his hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Shit, I don’t believe my eyes. Levi!” Another man enters, patting Levi on the back generously.

“Gunther..”

“It’s about time they let you out..” comes a lackadaisical voice from the back. Levi turns to see a third man, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Well you know, Oluo, I had to get back here and beat your ass back into shape.”

Eld and Gunther laugh, but Oluo frowns. “Come on, Levi, I’m a lot stronger now. You’ll see.”

Levi feels a bit uncomfortable with all this attention on him, but it’s expected; these are men he’d known since they were new recruits. He’d done jobs with them, showed them how to take a punch and even give them when needed. It’s amazing how much they’ve changed in just these few years.

He wonders what else has changed in this organization.

“I see you’ve met the little brothers,” Eld says, grabbing Connie and putting him in a headlock.

“I’m in charge of them, actually.”

“Damn,” Oluo laughs. “Hope you two are up for it.”

“Up for what?” Jean asks.

Oluo smirks as he sits down with the others at the table. “For the daily ass beatings you’re gonna get if you don’t keep the damn place spotless.”

Everyone laughs except Connie, Jean, and Levi, who looks at his two little brothers. “They are right about that.”

Connie and Jean eat their food quietly, listening to the stories being told around the table by the others about Levi. He shifts in his chair uncomfortably; he doesn’t particularly like being talked about like he’s some history report, but he’s content enough to listen, especially as the conversation shifts to updates on the clan and its newest exploits.

Hours pass with more stories being told and alcohol being drunk, until Caven walks through the door, a serious look on her face.

“There’s been a disturbance at Club Azure. Some members of the Jaeger Clan are causing a scene and harassing the hostesses. Levi, Kenny wants you to take care of it.”

Before Levi can even respond or refuse, she’s on her way out the door, but stops, glancing at him behind her shoulder. “And take Connie and Jean with you.”

“Fucking Jaeger Clan, thinking they can mess around on our territory,” Gunther says, his hands balling into fists. “Unfortunately for them, Levi’s back.”

Without a word, Levi gets up from the table and grabs his jacket.

“Those Jaegers won’t know what hit ‘em,” Oluo adds.

“Come on,” Levi finally says to his two brothers, who scramble away from the table and file behind him. “Let’s get this over with.”

Levi hadn’t realized how much time had gone by that evening until he stepped out into the brightly lit streets of the entertainment district. Signs flashed and holograms coaxed patrons to step inside their clubs, while drunks stumbled around them, yelling about which bar to hit up next.

Pachinko parlors, night clubs and host and hostess bars lit up every corner of every block; and when these institutions closed in the early morning light, there was still entertainment to be found in the sex clubs and soap lands.

And every one of them was protected by the Ackerman Clan.

“Does Hange still own Club Azure?” Levi asks as they make their way to the club, an easy walk from the clan headquarters.

“Yeah,” Jean answers, “but I’ve heard times have been tough over there.”

“Tough for a lot of the clubs these days, I heard,” Connie adds. “Members of the Jaeger Clan have been busting shit up around here recently and scaring customers away.”

Levi wants to ask more about this Jaeger Clan, but they’ve already arrived at the doors of the club. By the time the three men enter, there are raised voices amidst the smooth jazz music.

“We got ourselves a non-aug!”

Levi hears a voice say over the others. He looks over to the source of the noise and sees a man - probably no more than nineteen or twenty - being slapped by one of the hostesses.

“Don’t you touch me,” the woman says.

A few seconds later, he sees the man backhand the woman.

And that’s when something ignites in Levi.

“Stay here,” he says to Connie and Jean, wasting no time in walking toward the disturbance. The man grabs the woman’s face hard, saying something about not fucking with the Jaeger clan.

“Oi.”

From then on, Levi goes into combat mode, the rest of the world fading away as he throws the man across the room. He senses the rest of the men gathering around him; he deals with them one by one, barely breaking a sweat.

The leader reaches for a weapon in his jacket, but Levi is faster, his knife in his hand in the blink of an eye.

Even in the heat of the moment, his breathing is calm, his heartbeat is steady, and his concentration is laser focused. He feels his strength coursing through him.

The feeling of his fist against skin, his punches sending a resounding crack across the room…

This is who he is. This is what he does.

He blinks a few times when he sees them scrambling away, the room incredibly silent, until -

“Thank you so much, um..”

You’re in front of him suddenly.

Your dress does little to hide every curve of your body, and every bit of skin that is revealed shows not a single tattoo or augmentation. He blinks a few more times to focus on your face, and it’s like time stands still. Tears have formed in the corners of your eyes, probably from the force of the blow to your cheekbone, but your eyes are still bright, undefeated.

No longer able to hold your gaze, he gives you his name and turns away.

Why is his heart beating so fast?

When he reaches the bar he turns around to see you being whisked off by another hostess.

“Whew! Well that was not how I wanted this evening to end.” Hange says, leaning against the bar and looking at Levi. “And when I called Caven, I had no idea you were gonna show up. I didn’t even know you were out of prison.”

“I just got out today.”

Hange laughs and pours him a drink. “I bet this wasn’t the welcome you had in mind.”

“Who’s that girl? The one that got hit.”

“That’s Luna. She just started here today. Guess you two have something in common there.”

“She’s not augmented?”

“Nope. Pure as snow. Not that I’ve ever seen snow before.” Hange pours a drink for themself and downs it in one gulp.

“Where is she from?”

“Earth… Why do you want to know so much about her?”

That breaks Levi from his concentration on you. He doesn’t answer, but instead shifts on the bar stool and takes a swig of his drink.

“It’s natural to have those urges, Levi. You’ve been in prison for so long,” Hange’s voice has a teasing lilt.

“Fuck you, Hange.”

“Not even on a good day, Levi. But she might.” Hange gestures to the dressing room where you’ve been taken.

Wanting to get away from the conversation, Levi gulps down his drink and stands up. “I’ll take my guys and search the perimeter of the club to make sure they’ve left.”

“My hero, just like old times!” Hange yells out, as Levi and the other two walk towards the exit of the club. “Don’t be a stranger!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Hange has a new girl working at Azure.”

It’s the first thing Levi says to Farlan when he picks him up the next morning. He hasn’t been able to think about much else since last night.

”You’re not usually interested in the products.”

“She’s from Earth.”

”So what?” Farlan counters. “There’s lots of Earth refugees here; in fact, many of them work in that sweatshop Kenny has, making fake….”

”She’s not augmented. At all. Not one mark or change.”

Farlan looks up. He knows where this is going. “That’s not a rarity for Earthlings, Levi. It’s a coincidence.”

“What if it’s not?”

”What difference would it make now? What’s done is done, Levi. You can’t change the past.”

”That’s easy for you to say.”

”Look, I know you want answers, but you’re not gonna find them in some girl from Earth. You have a chance to start things over. Don’t stir shit up.”

But it was too late. Levi’s curiosity had already been piqued. His gut told him there was more to you than what you seemed, and he wanted to know what that was.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Oyabun - title given to the leader of a yakuza group

Aniki - “older brother”, used to refer to someone who is considered a superior

Wakagashira - a lieutenant, works directly under the Oyabun

Shatei - “younger brothers”, they work under the more experienced “older brothers” (kyodai) of a yakuza clan

Pachinko Parlor - a mechanical game like pinball, used for gambling

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cuntdestroyer3000 · 2 years ago

Text

You can be the Boss

pairing: Negan Smith x afab!fem!reader

summary: You and your little brother find an uneasy home at the savior compound. Things aren’t too bad, besides the fact that their ruthless leader has his sights set on you. After showing him some attitude, he decides to show you who’s boss.

word count: ~5.4K

warnings: mdni or I will tell ur mom. Swearing (mostly from Negan and my narration) Rough sex/smut, unprotected p in v wear condoms you whores, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, consensual forced submission. Mild dubcon (power imbalance). Age gap, reader is in her late 20s, Negan is in his 40s?? Tbh imagine it however you want but he’s older than her. No use of Y/N

CULTS ARE BAD

You were over Negan’s bullshit, to put it simply. You had been all on your own with just your little brother when the saviors had found you and let you become a part of their community. You remembered thinking, foolishly, that you were safe, things were going to get better. Only for things to get even more complicated and dangerous. Maybe if you were with a different group, being led by a different man.

You remembered the day you met him too. You had been brought to the compound, clutching your brother’s arm and refusing to let go. You had been led to a room with a bed and everything, instructed to take showers and asked if you wanted anything to eat. You remembered the water falling through your hair, the fresh smell of the soap. Something you had taken for granted before now considered a luxury in this post-apocalyptic world. In your naivety you’d allowed yourself to let your guard down. Until you met him.

You knew immediately not to trust him. The way he looked at you made you uneasy. You were used to men looking at you that way, being a young woman in a lawless world you had grown accustomed to predatory behavior from the men you encountered. You’d learned to harden yourself, keep your guard up always. You weren’t scared to hurt a man if he got too close to you.

This was different though, Negan was the leader of the saviors. You couldn’t just kick him in the balls and move on with it.

You were quickly put to work in the compound. It definitely wasn’t paradise, but at least you and your brother’s safety was ensured. Getting to sleep in an actual bed didn’t hurt either. The only problem was the man who ran everything.

At best he was an arrogant piece of shit, at worst he was a fucking monster. You made sure, and lectured the hell out of your brother, to stay out of his way.

He walked around the compound like it was his kingdom, swinging that damn bat around everywhere he went. You couldn’t help how alluring he was, despite his brutality. You couldn’t help being drawn in by his sauntering walk and deep voice, especially when he talked to you. It made you sick that there was a part of you that wanted him so bad, even after you’d witnessed the evil things he did.

You tried to stay out of his way, but he made it difficult, always going out of his way to talk to you. Not only were you scared of him, you were scared of how he made you feel. So you pushed those feelings way down and kept your head down, doing your job and taking care of your brother. It had worked for the most part, but eventually you couldn’t avoid him anymore.

One fateful day, Laura had been sick and she had asked you to fill in for her. You knew she worked a lot closer with Negan than you did, but you really liked Laura and didn’t want to let her down. You figured it’d be fine, just do the job and get out, right?

The whole time, you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head when you worked. You had never worked this closely with him before. The air around him felt electrically charged and you tried to ignore how he was making you feel.

The whole time he made little comments towards you, trying to be endearing in his own twisted way. You tried to walk the line that you always did between humoring him and still acting uninterested. However, it was getting harder and harder the more he drew you in.

When the job was finally done, he dismissed everyone. As you were walking away though, he called you back to him. You had turned around, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“C’mere” He beckoned you over with his leather gloved hand. You cautiously walked up to him, doing your best to ignore how your heartbeat quickened.

“Who are you?” He asked, that familiar wolfish smile on his lips. Suddenly, irritation flooded through you. You were sick of his smugness, he was already in control of everything, controlled everything all of you did. He even made you guys kneel for him. It wasn’t fair that in exchange for basic safety you had to kiss his ass and stroke his ego. Your identity was all you had left, and he wanted to take that away from you now too. You knew it was stupid but there was this stubborn part of you that just refused to bend.

“Well?” He asked, starting to get impatient, “I asked you a fucking question.”

You sighed and tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“Oh I’m sorry, is there a problem?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He was calm now, but the smallest things could set him off.

“No!” You said quickly, “Its just- come on Negan, you already know I’m loyal to you.”

His expression darkened and he stepped closer to you.

“So who are you?” He asked evenly, his tone warning you.

Your heart started to beat even faster as he got closer to you. There was some sort of tension between you two, you knew that for sure. Even though you didn’t work closely with him in the saviors community, he made sure to know who you were. He made excuses to be around you, to touch you. You weren’t stupid, you could see the way he looked at you.

To make things worse, that fucked up part of you really wanted him too. You hated yourself for it. He terrified you, and you liked it.

Suddenly you felt all the air knocked out of you as he grabbed you by the arms and shoved you into the wall. Lucille was still clutched in his right hand, inches away from your face. You’d taken much longer than he had liked to respond.

“You know, I am getting sick and tired of your fucking attitude.”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t think straight with the feeling of his large hands clamped around your arms. All you could focus on was how close he was to you, how strong he was, keeping you pinned against the wall.

“Just cause I like you doesn’t mean you get a free pass to be a little brat.” He spat at you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered. His eyes burned into you and for a second you had no fucking idea what he was about to do.

Then, he sighed and let go of you. You leaned against the wall and tried to catch your breath. He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face as he paced around a little bit.

“I just don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to take me seriously.”

“I do take you seriously.” You said, a little shocked. You had seen him brutally murder people in cold blood. You knew entirely what he was capable of.

“Mmmm no.” He shook his head, smiling coldly at you, “Cause yeah, you do what you're told and you do a good job of it.” He stepped closer to you again, crowding you up against the wall, “But I'm not sure you really know who's on top here. You see, I don't like the way you look at me sweetheart."

You looked up at him, trying to mask your feelings of fear and reluctant arousal.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to submit to me? Hmm?” He asked tauntingly and cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

You couldn’t help the waves of arousal that spread through you, leaving you throbbing in your jeans. You subconsciously bit your lip as you looked at his lips. He had never gotten this close to you before, only leaving you light touches on your arm or lower back whenever he had the chance.

He examined your face before his eyes flitted down to where you were clenching your thighs, desperate for friction. He smirked,

“Ohh…you want me to fuck you don’t you?”

You gasped at his forwardness and stumbled to find the right words,

“Negan I-“

“No you want me to fuck you.” He repeated licking his lips, “You’re practically fucking begging for me.”

“Negan, no you don’t-“

He interrupted you again by grabbing your hair and pulling it back, you couldn’t help the loud moan that tore from your throat.

“There she is.” He murmured and slowly leaned in to kiss you. Hypnotized by his proximity and his touch, that twisted part of you that was drawn to Negan lit up and took over and you leaned in and crashed your lips into his.

He tightened his grip in your hair and you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, still holding Lucille.

He groaned as he pulled away, still holding you.

“Goddamn you are incredible.” You whined and leaned into his hand that cupped your cheek, “But…I still gotta punish you”

“How?” You asked and you couldn’t help how small your voice was.

He stared down at you for a moment, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“I think you already know how.”

***

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. What the fuck am I doing?

That was your thought process as you let Negan devour you, licking into your mouth and running his large hands all over your body, claiming you. You knew it was wrong but he felt so fucking good. You’d been traveling for so long, alone with your brother, so focused on taking care of him that you had never been able to enjoy something like this. A man who wanted you, wanted to take you apart, make you his. In this moment you realized how much you had been craving physical intimacy. You didn’t care who he was or what he did anymore, all you cared about was how alive he made you feel.

Suddenly he pulled away and stepped back a little. He licked his lips and smiled slowly.

“Strip for me.”

“W-what?”

“You fucking heard me. Strip.” He commanded.

The pulsing between your thighs grew stronger as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head. His dark eyes stayed trained on you as you unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down. You stood in front of him in your underwear, feeling vulnerable already.

“Look at you, bein such a good girl for me already.” He smiled and walked closer to you again. He pulled you close to him and ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass roughly as he inhaled, his face buried in your neck. You held on to his broad shoulders, your cheek pressed against the leather of his jacket.

You yelped as he landed a harsh slap to your ass.

“Mmm I like the sound of that.” He smirked and pulled away from you, grabbing your hair tightly again.

“Now what the fuck do I do with you?” He mused.

Anything you want. Your mind screamed as you bit your lip, fisting the fabric of his white t shirt. Your head was spinning with what he was gonna do to you. The endless possibilities. He could even hurt you if he wanted.

He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, letting it slide down your arms revealing your breasts to him.

“Holy shit.” he breathed as he looked down at you, “You’ve got some nice fuckin tits.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, blushing as you looked down at the floor.

“I mean it.” He sighed as he ran his hands up your torso. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he cupped them, running his fingers over your hardening nipples. You loved the way he looked at you, like he was hypnotized by you. You couldn’t help the soft moan that fell from your lips as you arched your back, letting your breasts fill his hands.

He leaned down, licking at your chest, running his tongue over one of your nipples and sucking it into his mouth. You moaned louder and pulled on his hair as his hands went down to your ass, lifting you up against him.

You ground your hips onto him and he laughed lowly against your chest.

“You want it fuckin bad don’t you?” He moved to your other breast, biting your nipple gently, his hands firmly under your ass, supporting your weight. Everything about him was intoxicating, his mouth, his tongue, the way his beard felt on your bare chest, the leather under your fingertips, the way his belt dug into your clothed clit just right.

Moving his mouth off of your nipple he threw you down onto the bed.

“Hands and knees. Now.” He said to you, his deep voice sending shivers through you.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, looking up at him.

He smiled slowly, coldly,

“I’m gonna take my time with you.” He shrugged off his jacket, revealing his tattooed biceps, “I’m gonna hurt you baby, but you’re gonna like it.” Your breath hitched at that as he pulled his shirt off and leaned over you.

“I’m gonna have you crying and begging for me to let you come. And then I’m gonna make it so that my name is the only fucking thing you remember.”

With that he kissed you roughly, sliding his tongue into your mouth unabashedly. You moaned against him, running your hands up and down his arms, trying to savor this moment as much as you could.

You couldn’t help but whimper as he pulled away and he laughed at you again, flipping you over onto your stomach and pulling your hips so that your ass was up in the air. Any caution you had previously was thrown to the wind, you were drunk on him.

He slowly pulled your panties down to your knees, leaving you bare for him.

“Fuck that’s a pretty fuckin pussy.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your glistening folds, “Damn, you’re so wet for me already, I haven’t even fucking touched you.”

Your body jolted and you moaned, hips searching for more release. He chuckled,

“Yeah…you’re gonna be cryin for me real soon.”

Without warning he landed a hard smack against your ass and you moaned and buried your face in the bed.

“You like that?” He taunted and spanked you again, harder this time. You whimpered and grabbed onto the sheets. You couldn’t believe you were letting him treat you like this. You’d only had sex a handful of times and none of them had been like the earth shattering experience you’d heard about.

This however was amazing. The pain on your ass was tingling, spreading across your thighs and your pussy, desperately squeezing around nothing.

He spanked you again, this time hard on your cunt and you moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Fuck you really like that don’t you?” He hit you again and again until you were screaming into bed. He grabbed your hair and yanked you up so you could see him, his eyes were wild with lust and power.

“Answer me.”

You nodded quickly, his grip on your hair burning your scalp.

“Yes.” You gasped, “Yes Negan I love it”

He hit you a few more times, marveling at the way your ass reddened for him. You whimpered and tried to squirm away from the overstimulation.

“You gonna cry?” He mocked.

“Negan please.” You whined, his cruelty only making you wetter, “It’s too much I can’t-“

“Well if it was all fun and nice it wouldn’t be a punishment now would it?”

He spanked you more and more until your ass and thighs burned. You’d lost count of how many times he’d hit you at this point. The satisfaction from before was starting to melt into severe pain and you started to get scared that he’d keep going and going and not listen to you.

He landed a final hard spank on your cunt and you wailed, burying your face in the mattress as he let go of your hair, tears springing from your eyes.

“Negan I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please!” You hiccuped. He sighed above you and ran his hand down your back.

“Alright baby.” He said, “Turn over for me.”

You didn’t dare wait to listen to him as you rolled over on your back, wincing when your sensitive skin hit the bedding.

“Aw” He cooed at you mockingly, “You sore?”

You blinked back tears and tried to pull yourself together but the dripping heat between your legs betrayed you. His brow furrowed as he looked down at you,

“There’s that look again.” He tsked and bent down over you, kissing and sucking on your neck. You moaned in pleasure and ran your hands up his back, pushing your breasts up against his bare chest. He slowly made his way down your chest, manhandling your breasts as he did. You opened your legs for him automatically, allowing him to fit between them as he kissed lower and lower, pulling your panties down the rest of the way.

He kissed over your lower stomach and hips and you giggled a little at the sensation.

He pretended to ignore it but he couldn’t help but smile into your skin. He was so enamored by your youth and beauty, your softness, the pretty little noises you made for him. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed punishing you. Almost.

The sight of him between your legs was heavenly, looking up at you with those dark hazel eyes, his salt and pepper beard scratching against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he kissed them, getting closer and closer to your aching core.

“Negan wait!” You stopped him right before he reached where he wanted, grabbing at his hair.

He slowly raised up from where his mouth was inches away from your pussy, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way.

“Yeah?” He asked, almost exasperatedly.

“I’ve um...” You started, feeling your face grow hot from embarrassment, “I’ve never had anyone...do that to me before.”

“What? This?” He asked and ran his tongue between your lips, flicking your clit up and down. You gasped and your head fell back, hitting the bed. He continued making lazy circles on your clit with his tongue. It felt insane, unlike anything else you’d ever had. You whined as you felt yourself coming close to the edge already.

Negan continued his assault on your pussy until your legs were shaking over his shoulders, you were so close to coming when he pulled away. You whined at the loss and sat up, grabbing at him without even thinking.

“You’re not getting it that easily sweetheart.” He said as he rubbed your thighs, his beard glistening with your arousal. You gasped, the throbbing between your legs almost painful. You tried to close your legs but he held them open forcefully.

“Do it again.” You whimpered, “It feels so good Negan please.” His eyes darkened at the way you begged for him. His cock was impossibly hard in his jeans. He wanted to give it to you so bad but he couldn’t have you thinking you could mouth off the way you did and just get away with it.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He leaned back down and spit harshly on your cunt. You fell back against the bed with a moan.

“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, gripping his hair and rolling your hips against his face. He laughed, the vibrations running through you, only making you feel better.

“Godamn,” he gasped, still so close to you, “Can’t believe I’m the first guy to taste this sweet pussy.”

He dipped his tongue into your hole, curling it, fucking up into you. You let out the most beautiful moan when he did that, full of desperation. It only fueled him further, he rubbed your clit quickly with his fingers as he licked and sucked on your walls.

You gasped and cried, riding his tongue as he guided your hips with a vice grip. The pleasure was so intense, tears started to spring to your eyes. You could feel the pressure of your release building within you and you gripped Negan harder as you felt yourself approaching the edge.

Suddenly, he pulled his tongue out of you, leaving you a moaning crying mess.

“Negan” You whined and fisted the sheets, tears beginning to spill down your face.

“Fuck.” He laughed, kissing up your cunt until he reached your clit before pulling away entirely, “She tastes so fucking good.”

His words had you in a tailspin. You forgot about everything: the terrible things you’ve had to do for your survival, all that you’ve lost, the horrific things you’ve seen Negan do. None of it mattered, all that mattered was how fucking good his tongue felt in your pussy.

“Negan.” You gasped, sitting up and grabbing his shoulders, desperately, “Why aren’t you letting me come?”

He chuckled cruelly at your wrecked expression, tears streaming down your face from the two orgasms he’d already denied you.

“You know why sweetheart,” He murmured as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, collecting some of the tears on your face with it, “I can’t let you come ‘till I’m sure you learned your lesson.”

“Please.” You whined, “Give it to me please, I want it so bad.” You gasped and let one of your hands run down his body, cupping his hard length through his pants. Your eyes widened as you felt how big he was, meeting his smug expression as he watched your reaction.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish baby.”

You shook your head almost violently and, before you could stop yourself, you reached for his belt, pulling him closer to you and making him grunt.

“I want it.” You said, your lips brushing against his. You shocked yourself, you were usually strong and hid your true feelings but this man brought out something primal in you. You were still chasing those orgasms he’d ripped away from you. Your pussy throbbed painfully and you were willing to do anything to get that release.

“You got to taste me.” You slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. You slipped your hand under his waistband and found his cock, running your hand up and down his shaft.

“You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart?” He murmured, looking down at you through hooded eyes.

You bit your lip and nodded, your eyes desperate as you looked at him through wet eyelashes.

“I’m gonna need you on your knees then.” He said lowly.

You shakily got to the ground, your knees resting on the cold floor. He stood, looking down at you, satisfied with your obedience.

“Fuck you look real pretty like this.” He sighed, “Right where you fucking belong.”

You freed his cock from his pants and ran your hand up and down his shaft, feeling how painfully hard he was. He was thick and long with precum already leaking from his tip.

You couldn’t help but think how it was fitting that Negan’s dick would be just as sexy and intimidating as he was.

“You gonna suck my dick or what?” His voice was laced with amusement at you gawking at him.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and covered the plush tip of his cock with your lips, sucking softly as you eased yourself down his length.

“It’s ok baby.” He sighed, “I’ve got a nice dick, can’t blame you for staring.”

You rolled your eyes as you took more of him into your mouth. He was as egotistical as always but you couldn’t even blame him at this point. He had equipment worth bragging about.

You focused on him as you bobbed your head up and down rhythmically, stroking the length that couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

He threw his head back and rested his hands on the back of your head as you slipped his dick in and out of your mouth

“Fuck” he moaned lowly, “You love suckin cock don’t you.”

You hummed around his length as you enthusiastically bobbed your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks to make the feeling more intense.

His hips jutted up and his cock slid further down your throat, gagging you.

“Yeah? You like that?” He began to move his hips more, fucking into your mouth, “You like choking on my fucking cock?”

You couldn’t even respond, you just made obscene noises as you gagged around him, letting him use you.

You reached an almost meditative state while your tongue ran along the veins of his cock. Choking every time the huge head of it hit the back of your throat. You just let go, let him have control. You didn’t think about anything else, all your senses were filled by him. It felt so good to just forget about everything, nothing mattered at this point except pleasing Negan.

Even though you were more than willing to swallow his cum, he insisted on stopping and pulling you up to the bed again. After pulling his pants all the way off, he had you straddling his lap, his dick running along the wet lips of your pussy.

“Come on,” he said huskily in your ear, his breath hitting your neck, “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“Want it so bad please.” You whined immediately, your pathetic desperation making him chuckle lowly.

“I’ll be good for you.” You looked up at him, your lips still puffy from when you’d sucked him off, your eyes red and hair messy.

Negan decided he really liked how you looked when you were drunk off his cock.

“Fuck me, please.” You bit your lip and batted your eyelashes just for good measure.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He murmured, cupping your face in his hand, “Just gotta ask you one question.”

You watched as his expression darkened and he moved the hand that was so lovingly holding your cheek down under your jaw. He started squeezing your neck, the sensation made your head spin.

“Who are you?”

You gasped as his long fingers dug into the soft skin of your neck. You relaxed back onto his bed, the feeling of him surrounding you.

Watching him through hooded, tear stained eyes, the lighting in the room softened. A glow of light surrounded him, making him look like some sort of god.

“I’m Negan.” You sighed, rocking your hips against his dick, loving the way he felt up against you.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear and filled you up in one thrust, making you gasp and dig your fingernails into his back.

“Oh my God.” It came out in a broken whine as he stretched you, impaling you on his cock.

He groaned lowly in your ear as he started to thrust in and out of you. “You’re fucking tight baby.”

You could only respond with moans as he started to fuck you faster, hitting deep inside of you. You held onto him for dear life as he fucked your brains out, holding onto your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow.

You didn’t care, you loved how rough he was. You loved the urgency and power of his thrusts as he fucked deeper into you than you thought possible. You loved how his fingers felt digging into your ass, you needed more.

“Negan,” You managed in between moans, “H-hurt me. Please”

His eyes lit up and he put his hand around your throat again, making you clench around his cock.

“You like gettin’ hurt don’t you darlin’” he said softly against your temple, you could tell he was smiling.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over, slipping back into you easily.

“You really want it to hurt?” He started pounding into you impossibly hard, hitting your g spot over and over again.

“Oh my god-oh my god.” You moaned over and over again, reaching behind you to grab onto some part of him.

He pulled you up against his chest and wrapped a rough hand around your neck for the third time, fucking up into you at a punishing pace. He felt unbelievably good inside of you, you felt yourself hurtling to the edge quickly. Your legs started shaking as you got close.

“Negan.” You whined as he let you back down on the bed, “I’m-oh fuck.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because you were already coming.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he pulled you back on his dick roughly, “Come on my fucking cock, just like that.”

You whimpered at his praise, you were so glad that he was satisfied with you. You’d taken your punishment so well. And now you were being so good for him, letting him fuck you as hard as he wanted.

His thrusts started to get sloppier and you could tell he was chasing his own orgasm. Your heart pounded with anticipation.

“You close baby?” You heard it tumble past your own lips. You surprised yourself, you’d always felt stupid when you tried to talk dirty but it felt natural with Negan.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, grabbing your ass.

“I want your cum so bad.” You moaned, feeling your pussy throb around him as you felt another orgasm building up in your stomach.

Your words only spurred him further, fucking you viciously as he sent you over the edge again. This time he let go with you, moaning loudly into your hair as he came deep inside of you. Your body shuddered as you felt the way his warm seed coated your walls, you’d never felt that before and it was amazing.

You sat there for a moment, him still inside of you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your spine before slowly pulling out of you. You let yourself go limp against the mattress.

You laid there trying to catch your breath, unable to move, unable to talk, filled with his cum.

You looked up at him and he smiled at you, his tatted chest heaving. He leaned forward, over your body.

“Now that.” He whispered pointing at you, “Is the look I wanted see.”

He flopped down next to you on his bed, not bothering to clean his spend off of you. He sighed as he reached into the table next to him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

He let out a little moan of satisfaction as he took a drag and blew the smoke out. The smell surrounded you and you were suddenly transported back to high school, back to when everything was normal.

Memories of you and your friends sneaking out of class to smoke cigarettes under the bleachers flooded your mind. It smelled like before, like safety. You quickly reached over to take the cigarette from him without even thinking.

He slapped your hand as your fingers brushed his wrist,

“Ah-use your fuckin manners.” He scolded you, but the corner of his mouth pulled up a little.

“Please?” You rested your head on his chest, batting your eyelashes up at him again. He smiled and brought the cigarette to your lips, letting you inhale some smoke.

Hesitantly, you snuggled further into his chest, tentatively wrapping an arm around his waist. He didn’t stop you, just put an arm around your shoulders and took another drag from his cigarette.

You sighed as you lay against him. Maybe it was the aftermath of your orgasms but for the first time in years you were feeling content and safe. You focused on the way his chest moved under you, the way his rough fingertips caressed your lips as he let you take another drag from his cigarette. Everything just stood still, and you felt okay.

You tried not to think about the gravity of the situation. You had done what you promised yourself you wouldn't, and it had been better than you ever could've imagined.

You knew it and he knew it: you were his now.

I knew it was wrong

I’m beyond it

I tried to be strong

But I lost it

A/N: hehehehe hope y’all liked this. sorry it ended up being so long I just kind of went with a length and flow that felt right. Negan’s just so hot I just needed to include everything sex-wise teehee. Also he needed to eat some pussy like…he’s a piece of shit so he has a lot to make up for. Ik there isn’t really aftercare besides him j letting her chill with him but who knowssss maybe I’ll write more Negan fluff in the future. I’m j obsessed w him and I wanna be his little whore HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA OK BYE

#negan smith #twd #daddy negan #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan #dilf lover #negan x reader #negan smut #negan fic #negan #negan fanfiction #twd fic #twd fanfiction #fanfic #smut lol #just a lot of smut

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