#just because you have a bad ass women or something

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.5

christmas special

part one - part two - part three - part four

summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!

words : 3334

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.

“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.

“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”

I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.

Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”

“How did you know Lily fancied you?”

His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.

“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”

Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”

“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.

Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”

“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.

He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”

“Okay bye Oscar!”

He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”

I hang up on him.

⋆༺

Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!

After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.

The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”

I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”

He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”

I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.

“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”

“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”

He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”

“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”

I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”

⋆༺

you

I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?

I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.

We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.

He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.

My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”

“Let go of me you vermin!”

“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.

“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.

“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.

Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.

We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.

Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.

I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.

I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.

“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.

“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.

He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”

“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.

“I’m familiar with the area.”

I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.

“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.

I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”

“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”

I smile, “I adore you, P.”

The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.

P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.

She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.

“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.

“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.

I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.

“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.

“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.

“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”

I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”

“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.

He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.

I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?

The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”

He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”

“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.

“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”

“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.

“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”

“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.

“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.

I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?

He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”

“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”

“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.

“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”

P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.

They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.

“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.

“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.

“Please, Lan?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.

I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.

He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.

He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.

“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”

“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.

He’s five drinks in I think.

“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.

Linger, by the cranberries.

My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.

The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”

It was my favorite song in highschool.

He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.

Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.

Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.

Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.

Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.

P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.

Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”

“I can drive back.” I sit up.

Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.

He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.

“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.

“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.

I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.

Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.

Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.

His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.

And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.

“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.

“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.

I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.

He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.

His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”

“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”

He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”

“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”

He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.

“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.

We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.

Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.

“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.

I raise a brow, “Sure.”

“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.

“I don’t hate you.”

It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.

We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.

Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”

I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”

“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”

“You have no shirt on.”

“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.

I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.

“The doors locked.”

His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.

“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.

He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”

It’s the first time his words really hit me.

“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.

⋆༺

There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.

Max is staring at us with his mouth open.

Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!

I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.

He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.

“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.

“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”

“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”

“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.

“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.

He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”

I think he might still be drunk.

Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.

“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.

“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.

“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.

Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”

I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”

Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”

“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”

“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.

“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.

“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.

“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, stalking mention, cooties, wild subplot(s), loser enhypen, rickrolling, bad april fools pranks

word count: 3.62k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

“I’m gonna say it. Y/n has been getting on my nerves recently.”

Everyone snaps their necks to look at Riki like he’s just admitted to committing a crime.

“Excuse me?” Sunghoon is appalled. “That’s my friend!”

It’s been about a month since you and Sunghoon had begun his “girlducation” lessons (You named it, not him). And luckily he’s been faring well!

Everyone’s noticed how he’s more open and friendly, and just last week he was finally able to look his homeroom teacher in the eyes and have a full conversation (about how he’s failing Algebra 2).

Talking to his female classmates has gotten easier too. He can’t say much though, as he still gets nervous whenever the conversation gets too complex.

You’ve helped him make leaps and bounds regardless, and Sunghoon can proudly state you two are friends.

“Come on you guys, you know what I’m talking about,” Riki shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“No. We don’t. What did she do to you?” Jongseong raises a brow. Riki groans, rubbing his face.

“Yeah, there’s no need to be angry at her.” Heesung adds.

“This is exactly why! You guys like her more than me, I’m being replaced!” Riki throws his hands up in the air.

“Uh, no duh we like her more,” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “She’s nicer, funnier, and she’s prettier.”

Riki gasps. “I can be pretty!” He crosses his arms. “I’m prettier than you!” This time Sunoo gasps. “You can’t say shit to me cause do you got some guy stalking you because he thinks your idol material? I think not bitch!”

“Stalker? Sunoo! I thought you got rid of that guy?!” Jaeyun pauses, now the attention is turned towards the younger boy.

“He’s been on my ass recently, he even knows my order at my favorite cafe.” He shrugs as if this isn’t a concerning matter.

“Oh that’s not…” Sunghoon makes a face, eyeing the others.

“That stupid Belift guy is so persistent. It’s like he doesn’t take no for an answer.” Sunoo sighs. They all look at each other, skeptical. "I’ll walk home with you today Sunoo,” Jungwon decides.

“Speaking of stalkers,” Jongseong clears his throat, turning to Riki. “You’re banned from my house.”

“What?” Heeseung squeaks out in shock.

“Oh, so you liked my April Fool’s prank?” Riki grins, dodging Jongseong’s fists. “You went and switched my alarm clock forward! I was on my way to Jungwon’s at 5am this morning,” Jongseong grumbles.

As the others laugh and praise Riki for his joke, Sunghoon laughs the hardest. “Maybe you should keep your clock that way, you won’t ever have to worry about your mom nagging you to leave on time anymore.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

“How did you even do that?” Jaeyun laughs. Riki waves him off, smiling proudly. “Just asked his mom if I could come over to change it really quick while he was at baseball yesterday.”

“My mom was in on it?!” Jongseong looks betrayed. The boys soon make their way inside their school building.

“I totally forgot today was April Fool’s! I should’ve planned something,” Heeseung laughs, opening his locker.

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started, I’ve got something for all of you.” Riki sends them an ominous smile. “Heh, what do you mean?” Sunghoon tries to hide his fear with a smile.

“Nothing. Just think of today as karma for replacing me with Y/n,” Riki waves before he jogs down the hall, greeting his other friends.

“We never replaced you?!” Jungwon shouts at him, sounding worried. “Oh my god, I’m scared, what if I open my locker and there’s like a dead rat or something?” Sunoo whines.

“No, Riki’s not like that,” Heeseung shakes his head, before turning to the others. “Uh, right?”

“Last year he put ink on my glasses, so when I took them off I had lines all over my face and hands, no one said anything till lunch!” Sunghoon reminds the others.

“In middle school we shared a class, I fell asleep and he clipped a hair extension to the back of my head. No one told me I had a mullet until I got home and showered.” Jungwon recites, shuddering as his fingers ghost over the back of his neck.

“He gets bolder every year, and somehow he convinces people to help him. I think he’s bribing them somehow.” Jongseong concludes.

“What if I just skipped school today? Huh? Anyone wanna join me?” Jungwon tempts the others. “No! If I have to be here, so do you. Plus it’s unfair that only I got pranked so far.” Jongseong huffs.

“Don’t worry Heeseung,” Jaeyun comforts the oldest. “You’re new, Riki will probably go the easiest on you.”

Heeseung doesn’t look pleased by this. As his friends try to figure out a way they can prevent Riki’s chaos from unfolding, Sunghoon slinks off down the hall to a certain locker.

You stand with your back towards him, talking animatedly with your friend Taehyun. As Sunghoon approaches, he signals Taehyun to keep quiet with a finger to his mouth.

“Boo!” He grabs you by the shoulder, causing you to jump. “Ah! Sunghoon!” You huff, punching him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that!” You smile nonetheless.

“April Fool’s,” Sunghoon grins. You wave him off, your fingers grazing his own. He feels his ears heat up.

“I’m gonna get you later. You better watch out.” You warn him, but Sunghoon only smiles, shaking his head.

Suddenly, Taehyun clears his throat, reminding the two of you that you weren’t alone. “I’m gonna find Hyuka, see you later.” He waves to the both of you before departing.

But before he turns around, Taehyun sends you a wink, causing you to stiffen up.

“What was that?” Sunghoon asks, eyes trained on the back of Taehyun’s head. “Huh? Nothing, let’s get to class.” You cough, pushing Sunghoon down the hall.

“You remembered to do your slides, right?” You ask Sunghoon as you two sit down in your seats. “Yeah, it wasn't that hard.” He nods.

Your history class has just finished a project, and today everyone will be presenting. It was a solo project, but you and Sunghoon helped each other out.

“You’ll be okay talking up there by yourself?” You worry. Sunghoon feels special to know that you of all people care about him. A few days ago you’d voiced your concern to him about his fear or public speaking (around women).

“I think so, I usually just look at Jaeyun.” Sunghoon admits, shrugging.

“Well if you need to, you could look at me.” You suddenly suggest. Sunghoon feels the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. “O-Okay.” He nods, focusing on his desk.

Even after all his training, you somehow had a way with words that could cause Sunghoon to shut right up again.

Not just that, you still made him nervous, there were moments he found you too beautiful to even look in your direction.

Home room goes by like a breeze, and soon enough it’s time for history, and one by one students begin to present their topics in the front of class.

“Park Sunghoon.” Mr. Song calls out, and Sunghoon awkwardly stands up, grabbing his notes.

“Good luck!” You send him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Just that alone made him feel invincible.

With newfound confidence, Sunghoon strides to the front, pulling up his powerpoint on the history of soybeans. But when he turns to his fellow classmates, his ego disappears and he’s suddenly reminded of how many eyes were on him.

He begins to panic, his words stuck in his throat and his thoughts become sludge. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone was whispering.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Why is he taking so long?”

“Soybeans? That’s so boring.”

He can hear his teacher call out his name, asking him if he’s alright, but Sunghoon feels as if he’s been nailed to the ground, unable to move.

But as he focuses on his feet, he hears someone clear their throat loudly, his eyes shooting up.

You’re smiling. At him.

“You can do it!” You mouth, cheering him on. Suddenly it’s like he can breathe again. He can feel his body moving finally. All thanks to you of course.

“T-Today I’ll be talking about the history of soybeans in Korea.” Sunghoon announces suddenly, eyes trained on you.

You lean back into your seat, smile never disappearing as you listen intently.

“Where the hell is Riki?! I’m gonna kill him.” Jaeyun stomps over to the lunch table. Heeseung shrugs, mouth full of food.

“He’s not here, what happened?”

Jaeyun groans as he sits down, Sunghoon also taking his seat beside him. “He got Rickrolled.”

Jungwon snorts, choking on his food as he laughs. Jaeyun glares, picking at his lunch. “It’s not funny! He cost me my grade!”

“Pfft! Mr. Song docked you 10 points, you still have an A.” Sunghoon reminds him. The youngest of the bunch somehow got control of Jaeyun’s presentation, adding a bunch of memes into his slides.

“And ruined my 100 streak!” Jaeyun whines. “He won’t let me take any extra credit.” He sighs, letting his hunger take over as he shovels food into his face.

“Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!” Riki sings and dances as he arrives at their table. He’s grinning from ear to ear, all the while Jaeyun glares mid-chew.

“Come on Jaeyun!” Riki nudges him. “Sing it with me! Never gonna make you cry-” He’s cut off when Jaeyun lunges at him, catching the boy in a headlock. “Nev-never gonna tell- a lie- ack!” Riki coughs as he continues to sing under Jaeyun’s grip.

“Shut up!” Jaeyun angrily sneers, just as Riki wriggles out of his arms. “Dude,” Riki is breathless. “Put on some deodorant or something! I almost died.” He gags.

“I’m seriously going to kill-”

Jongseong slams down his hand onto the table, making everyone jump.

“Uh, you good?” Jungwon eyes him. Jongseong zeroes in on him, his eyes ablaze. “No I am not good, Yang Jungwon.”

“Uh oh, cat fight,” Sunoo snickers to Sunghoon, earning a chuckle.

“Did I do something?” Jungwon eyes the others, before realizing Jongseong was only looking at him. “What do you think, Yang?!”

Jongseong suddenly digs into his pants pocket, and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to the first year. Jungwon catches it with ease, unraveling it suspiciously.

“Oh my God.”

“What? What is it? Show me!” Sunoo snatches the paper, his eyes reading as fast as lightning before he lets out a yelp, covering his mouth as he gawks at Jungwon.

“You’re being dramatic,” Sunghoon finally grabs the paper, sharing it with Jaeyun as Heeseung leans over the table to peer.

The paper turns out to be a list, and it has various names on it, including Jongseong’s and Jungwon’s. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. That is until he reads the title.

“How could you go behind my back and run for Student Council?! You knew I was applying!” Jongseong shouts.

“I didn’t!” Jungwon holds his hands up in the air. “Dude I promise, I think there’s been a mistake, I never even applied to be nominated!”

Jongseong eyes him, but concedes, looking just as confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t not know you’re running- for Student Body President!”

“Yeah, and to think you’re only running for Treasurer,” Jaeyun jabs. He earns himself a kick to the shin from Jongseong.

Riki is the only one who laughs, though it lingers longer than it should have, prompting suspicion.

“What did you do?” Jungwon questions. The youngest is too busy hugging his sides as he cackles.

“Oh my God! I’m gonna piss myself, you should have seen your face!” Riki wheezes.

“Riki, what did you do?!” Jongseong demands. After a few minutes, the boy’s laughter subsides. “We nominated Jungwon cause he fell asleep in homeroom,” He giggles.

“What?! Riki be serious.”

“Okay,” Riki shrugs. “Technically, I nominated Jungwon, but then everyone else voted for him. I found out the announcements were the same day as April Fool’s and thought it’d be a sick prank.”

“Someone’s feeling sick alright, me, that’s who.” Jongseong sighs. Sunoo pats his arm out of sympathy.

“Jongseong, dude, no one’s gonna actually vote for Jungwon.” Riki scoffs. “What kind of idiot votes a first year as their president?”

“The same idiots who voted for him to be a nominee?” Heeseung reminds him. Riki pauses. “That’s beside the point! Don’t worry, this will all blow over when they see how incompetent he is.”

“Hey! I’m competent!” Jungwon huffs. “I just choose not to be!”

“Make that your slogan, and you might just lose!” Sunoo teases. Jungwon rolls his eyes, rubbing his face.

“Hey guys! I heard the great news, congratulations!” Your sweet voice brings sudden joy to Sunghoon as you greet them all.

“Y/n!” He suddenly shoves Jaeyun to the side to make space for you to sit, causing both him and Riki to topple over. He ignores their complaints as you squeeze yourself in right next to him.

You finally take a good look around the table once you’re settled in.

Sunoo mindlessly picks at his food, beside him Jungwon seems to be experiencing his first ever existential crisis. Jongseong has a vice grip on a very beaten up piece of paper and Heeseung is too busy eating to notice the tension as Jaeyun keeps muttering about his grades. And Riki is blatantly glaring daggers at you.

The only person who seems relatively happy is Sunghoon.

“You guys seem to be having a really, uh- interesting day so far.” You cough. “As if you know what it’s like to be interesting- Ow! Jaeyun elbowed me!” Riki tattles.

“And you deserve it.” Jongseong sneers.

“Tough crowd today,” You whisper to Sunghoon as the others begin to bicker. “Yeah, Riki’s been burning some bridges, lately” He nods.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” You eye the boy, who is in fact now glaring even harder. “No.” Sunghoon shakes his head, trying to remain calm as you lean closer to him. “Um, maybe actually? Yes. Yes you should.” He finally decides.

“Uh huh.” You nod warily. “Well anyways, I was just wondering how you guys plan to run your campaigns? I have some experience since I helped last year when Taehyun was Secretary, and now he’s running for Vice President.”

Jongseong sits up straight, putting on a presentable smile. “I plan on winning by showing my responsibility and care for the students here at EN-High.”

The table goes quiet.

“Was that AI? Sounded like something ChatGPT wrote,” Heeseung looks around. “What? No! I’m trying to sound professional.” Jongseong sighs.

“Well I plan to drop out, I didn’t even want to be nominated, but someone thinks it’s funny to prey on the innocent.” Jungwon stares right at Riki, who is busy scrolling through his phone uninterested.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it, can you blame me?” He shrugs. “Yes! Yes, I can!” Jungwon shouts.

“Okay, so it sounds like both of you are losing.” You mutter beneath your breath. “Look, word of advice: students really value honesty and the ability to be realistic. People like it when you tell the truth.” You explain.

“Didn’t Taehyun win last year because he did magic tricks instead of a speech?” Sunghoon frowns. “Oh! I remember him! He was so cool! How did he pull that chicken out of that hat?!” Heeseung asks excitedly.

“He did have a speech, he just did his magic tricks after.” You correct him. “Also it was a parrot, not a chicken.”

“What does magic have to do with being on the student council?” Sunoo asks, looking confused. “If I vote for Taehyun, can he magically fix my grade back to 100?” Jaeyun questions. “Do you think if I partner with Taehyun, I have a better chance of winning?” Jongseong turns to you.

You hold your hand up to silence them, before looking at each of them individually.

“Apparently more than you’d think.” You say to Sunoo, before shaking your head at Jaeyun. “No, just take the L.”

“And yes, but only if you’re okay with him doing the Sawing-In-Half trick on you during the debate.” You tell Jongseong, who looks pale now.

Before you can say any more, the warning bell rings, signaling lunch would be over in five minutes. “Alright, see you guys later,” You stand up, getting out of your seat. “Let me know if you need more advice.” You joke.

“I’ll see you in class?” Sunghoon asks, as if you two weren’t seatmates. You laugh, and teasingly pat his arm, causing his whole body to burn.

“Yeah, see you!” You wave, running off. He watches you as you return to your friends at your table across the cafeteria, his heart swelling.

“Oooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Sunoo suddenly giggles.

Sunghoon feels his stomach turn excitedly, his ears burning a bright red. “Shut up!” He mumbles, covering his face.

His friends begin to tease him, Sunghoon shakes his head furiously, though he peeks through his hands to glance at you once more.

When you laugh at something Kai says, he begins to wonder if his friends are on to something.

“Ta-da!”

You’re grinning as you flip your paper around to present to Sunghoon.

He looks up, blinks, then frowns.

“You like to eat stomachs?” He reads your calligraphy. “Huh? No, I like to eat pears.” You look at your paper yourself, confused.

Sunghoon begins to laugh, before standing up to walk around the table to your side. “You need to press down lightly on this character.” He instructs, leaning over you.

Instead of taking your brush like he usually did when he showed you the correct way, he grabbed your hand.

“L-Like this,” He stutters, leaning even closer to you as you allow him to guide you on the paper. Your hand is really small compared to his own, his fingers are almost half as long.

Your skin is soft and warm, he doesn't want to let go.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim, and he jumps back, releasing your hand.

“So that’s how you do it? Let me try again.” You begin to attempt again on your own. He watches over you as you try your best, all of your focus on your calligraphy.

He finds the way you scrunch your face up as you focus endearing, you’ve made a lot of progress.

Your reattempt is still not the best, but Sunghoon can admit this time he could actually read it. “You’re doing a lot better,” He says as he returns to his seat. “Really? I’ve been practicing at home,” You admit.

“You’ve been practicing?” Sunghoon repeats, surprised at your dedication. If he were being honest, he thought your interest in calligraphy was only confined to the old library.

“Yeah,” You smile, getting shy. “I want to show you my best.”

Oh.

The two of you keep eye contact as Sunghoon feels his face and ears begin to heat up. He was probably red all over from just that one compliment. Didn’t help that you looked gorgeous while staring at him.

“I-I think-uh- You’re doing a really good job so far.” He finally looks away, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Thank you.” You hum, smiling to yourself. “Oh, it’s already almost four, we should probably get going.” You say, and begin cleaning up.

The two of you quickly grab your stuff and sweep down the table before heading out.

Outside the sun is still bright, yet it’s lower in the sky than before. You both walk down the street, shoulder to shoulder. Every time you bump into each other, Sunghoon feels his heart race.

“Hey, want one?” You suddenly ask, opening your palm to reveal two pieces of creamy milk candy. The bright bunny logo catches his eye.

The idea of sharing candy with you is exhilarating to Sunghoon. Your sweet nature mimicked the sweetness of the candy awaiting before him.

“Thank you,” He smiles at you, letting his fingers graze your palm.

Together you two unwrap the candies, poppin them into your mouths. Sunghoon takes a bite and-

“What the fuck?!” You spit your candy back into its wrapper, face contorted in absolute disgust. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to do the same, gagging as he does so.

“This is a crayon!” Sunghoon grimaces, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Where the hell did you get these?!”

You shake your head, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, but to no avail. “I don’t- I don’t remember I just- Riki handed some to me, and-”

“Wait,” Sunghoon interrupts you. “Riki gave you these?”

You nod, first confused, then realizing what he meant. “Oh my god I’m so stupid.” You groan. “I should have known when he randomly apologized to me, he even suggested I share them with you!”

“He’s always one step ahead,” Sunghoon glares into the distance. “Ugh I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!” You spit.

“I swallowed a little, will I die?” He worries, voicing his concern. “I need water- juice, I need something!” You look around for a vending machine.

“There! A Family Mart!” Sunghoon points down the road. He turns to you with an eager expression, holding his hand out to you.

“Come on, let’s go!” He urges. You hurriedly grab his hand, and the two of you run down the street, groans of disgust soon turning into giggles of excitement.

Sunghoon's lesson he learned today was that he doesn’t mind holding your hand. In fact, he likes it.

He likes you.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024 | Log 5: Wednesday - May 15th, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

reply/comment for taglist!

[gatheredfates]

On the Topic of Plagiarism:

I decided to make my own post rather that co-oping @thefreelanceangel's because, despite having her full and enthusiastic permission to do so, what I'm talking about is somewhat adjacent to her point and entirely inspired BY the fact she tagged @riftdancing—particularly Blink—and I wanted to demonstrate examples of incidence were coincidence and consent do not immediately equate to plagiarism; it's ultimately about intent, and you do not need to tear yourself up on the inside if you find someone with a similar idea to yours, provided neither of you have gone out of your way to copy each other.

First, please meet the troops:

On the left is Miss Koret Swan. On the right is Miss Blink Vaniro. As I so delicately summed up:

It would be easy to surmise, based on this alone, that one of us copied the other person. However, both of these are old characters, written in a time and space where neither of us knew each other, and the similarities have always been a cause for laughter and playful teasing rather than competition and spite. I made Koret in WoW as a sister to a wolf and lamb concept, and Pepper made Blink as a character to an overarching D&D campaign set in a sci-fi universe.

What I'm trying to say is that, whilst plagiarism is absolutely a bad thing, as someone with anxiety over this sort of thing, you do not need a wholly 100% original idea in order to write and roleplay publicly, and many ideas share overt similarities to others that deviate the moment you peel back the veneer.

Koret and Blink are both 'pirates'. Koret is a privateer (said with all the sarcasm a privateer entails; a pirate with the proper papers) and Blink is a sky pirate. All of Kor's theming is around the ocean, particularly the deep ocean, and Blink's is all about the sky and the freedom it gives. But they both have wolf motifs. Kor has had a sister, Blink has had a brother.

What makes these characters different is the way that we explore them and how these broad ideas become niche based on the concepts we want to expand on as writers. What makes them different is that neither was written despite (or even in spite) of the other, nor did one of us look at the other and go 'oh, i want to do x with y because i think it'll be better'.

There are dozens of femme fatal concepts out there. There are heaps of bad-ass men. If I had a dollar for every knight character that was in xiv alone, I'd still be a rich woman. Hell, I know for a fact that my star-gazing viera is certainly not the first of her kind, nor will she be the last. I can coexist in spaces with people who have these similar concepts because I know there's enough deviation between those characters, as I have spent the time cultivating a niche story for mine where broad concepts are more set-dressing than the actual meat and potatoes of the character.

If you have the ick about someone copying you, especially if you have a negative history with them or the person is being weird, you're probably right on the money. I have had characters of mine blatantly ripped off for the former. But this is more for the reassurance of people who are like 'I don't want a pink-themed miqo'te because I know one already exists' or 'I don't want to play with a spore druid concept because I know one exists' (i'm using my own miqo'te here as an example, LMAO). You can have a primadonna, pink miqo'te who lives in Ishgard and is clawing her way to the tippy top of the high houses and I wouldn't stress because my primadonna, pink miqo'te is currently knee-deep in a bog because she heard she can find peat mummies there. They're not the same. They share similarities, but they're not the same.

Write it because you think it's fun. Not because you've seen x's concept be popular and you want a slice of it. Not because you want a ship similar to y's and you're going to gush about how much you love it and try to mosey in with a knock-off (no, this has never happened to me, what do you mean?). You're not going to have the same amount of fun!! It won't be the same!!

But also, at the same time, don't rob yourself of an opportunity to play with a concept because someone else is already doing it, especially if it's just a trope. People can tell the difference and they will embrace it if you're earnest.

You may even find someone like I found Pepper. We laughed at it. Then we made an AU and shipped them. They're kissing. They are stabbing. They are kissing and stabbing each other.

[shokveyv]

shut up

[assmaster-8000]

why don't clothes fit me the way they do on a skinny cis guy (<- isn't a skinny cis guy)

[akkivee]

i feel very seen as someone who draws buff kuukou lmao

[bleuberrygliscor]

honestly if you sincerely think that any humor that is even slightly crass, but is aimed at an adult audience, is "problematic", you need to go back into the locker for a bit. youre not done cooking.

[xxgh0st0fy0uxx]

i don’t hate anyone more than i fucking HATE people who say “im going lesbian” or “me fighting my lesbianism” WHEN THEY ARENT LESBIAN. like no girl ur bisexual and have a boyfriend you’re not “fighting lesbainism” stop using lesbians for ur own joke.

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[teaboot]

You know being transmasc after a life of growing up as the sole "girl" in male-dominated areas gives you a weird and complicated relationship with gender identity.

Like... being told straight to your face, "you're naturally bad at this cause you're a girl", "you're naturally weaker cause you're a girl", "you can act tough but you'll always just be a girl", "stop acting like you can keep up with the men", and even the well-intentioned, "Yeah women are like that, but you don't count, you're basically one of the boys"...

It leads you to this weird space where it's like. "Fuck you, women kick ass," and then busting yourself up to prove that you, a woman, *can* keep up, and not only keep up but do it better than anyone else, and taking pride in your femininity because it's not a fucking weakness, but at the same time knowing that... You're not a woman.

You're not a woman. You're not a girl. People just see tits and curves and decide that nature made you delicate, and then all of a sudden it's your responsibility to prove that you're not fucking weak, women aren't weak, while also saying, "I'm not a woman, though."

It's... bizarre.

I'm not a girl. But so long as I'm interpreted as one, I'm still gonna be held back by the same stereotypes. But if I ever stop being interpreted as one, then all the hard fucking work I put in to excel in my field is going to go down the toilet as "just something you can do because you're a man".

And fuck that. That's stupid, too. Guys shouldn't have their effort taken for granted like that, and it stings extra hard because you remember people just naturally assuming you suck and earning respect only to lose it immediately the second you step over to the "man" side. Because you've worked your whole life for something that as a man you'd just be expected to have naturally.

You SEE that shit staring you in the face, and worst of all people still walk around you in plain view and still talk about how women can't do shit and conveniently forget that you've BEEN ONE. "Because you were a man all along" or "because you overcompensate to prove yourself", whatever they think of to justify the cognitive dissonance that keeps their narrative going.

Nobody seems to consider that I'm not really different from women OR men, because those differences don't exist.

I'm not "naturally better" than women because I don't identify as one, and I'm not "worse than" men because I wasn't assigned the title by a third party. I'm just a person. We're all just people.

I'm just tired, man.

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)

…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

Black ! Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC

Gojo

Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled

He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.

He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.

“You have a very voluptuous—“

“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”

“You don’t know what the word vo—-“

“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”

Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?

No.

No he cannot.

He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.

He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on

“CAN YOU STOP.”

“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”

When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite

Yup.

Moomoo.

Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.

Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.

He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.

Geto

He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.

He loves watching you put on clothes.

Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.

If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.

One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.

He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.

Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.

The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.

He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?

Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.

He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.

Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.

“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”

“YES.”

“Good, now c’mere.”

Toji

Ass eater.🫵🏾

That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.

Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro

You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE

As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.

“You like my dress?”

“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”

SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil

He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere

For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.

“OOWWUH!”

“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”

Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.

Toji is your new seat btw.

Not just his pretty face but his lap too.

He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.

Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him

Nanami

This man here.

A KING.

Freaky king but a king none the less.

He loves every part of you.

Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.

Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back

Nanami however does this

ESPECIALLY on date night.

Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself

“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”

“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”

And now hes blushing.

He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.

Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.

Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.

“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”

“Kentoooo—!??”

One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.

Choso

Lord bless him.

He is very….confused to say the least.

He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.

Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.

“Oh.”

“…oh?”

“You—“

You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.

Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!

“You’re sex—cute…”

Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…

You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.

Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.

So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.

Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.

Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind

Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.

Moans at the sight everytime

No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.

He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.

If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.

[uravichii]

"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Save a Horse

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary: you and your best friend, Tyler decided to test the waters and take your friendship to the next level, unbeknownst to the both of you that you’re in love with each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The bar was hazy when Tyler walked into it, a line dance already in formation. He didn’t even want to be there, but he was trying to make himself actually get out there again. He hadn’t been on a date in what felt like ages, so he was a little rusty, but a few beers should have fixed that. Despite his looks, he wasn’t very good with the ladies. Any time he would try to flirt, it came off offensive or borderline sexist because he got a little too cocky. But this was his night. He was desperate to get laid, his hand no longer doing the job.

He made a beeline for the bar and ordered a beer, surveying the area for whoever he was going to take home for the night. There were a lot of pretty women and he was trying not to be picky. This was just to get him back out there. The sex didn’t have to be good and it certainly didn’t have to mean anything.

His eyes locked on a pretty blonde that was on the other side of the bar, barely visible through all of the dancing bodies. She was already staring him down, sipping on a drink with a straw and Tyler was wondering what else she was willing to suck on. He downed half of his beer and made a beeline for her, trying to go around the dancing crowd so as to not get caught in it.

But then he heard something, someone who stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to the left and sure enough, there you were, arguing with someone like you always seemed to be doing.

You were beautiful. So much so that he couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a black tank top that was tucked into a pair of very short denim shorts and a pair of black cowboy boots were on your feet. Before he could stop himself, his feet were gaining a mind of their own as they carried him over to you.

He finally stood at your side, but you were paying him no attention, your argument with the stranger still going strong. You looked seconds away from pulling out your earrings and hitting the man. And as much as Tyler knew he should have stopped you, he kind of wanted to see you do it. You had a bad temper you never took out on anyone who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just give me a chance,” the man said. That seemed to unleash something in you because you stepped closer to him, nothing but fire in your eyes. Tyler wasn’t a fan of how he still found you so hot when you got angry. The way your eyes would be filled with fire and your nose would twitch and your mouth would twist as you were trying to decide what you were going to say next.

There were so many times where he wanted to kiss you when he had done something to upset you. Clearly nothing had changed since he was staring directly at your mouth, watching your lips move. They were painted with a red gloss, making them even more inviting. But nothing was coming out of them. The place was loud but not loud enough to where he couldn’t hear what you were saying when you were only like a foot away from him.

“Maybe because you slapped my ass?” You replied, surely seconds away from beating this guy up. Tyler’s eyes widened, hurrying to stand beside you before he could stop himself.

“You did what?” He asked in shock.

“You bent over to grab a pool ball that fell off the table and you’re saying I wasn’t supposed to smack it?” Tyler cracked his knuckles, wanting to hit the guy himself.

“Yes,” you and Tyler replied in unison. You turned to him and he looked good. Almost too good. The scruff on his face did him well and the cowboy hat on top of his head looked far better than it should have. His white t-shirt clung to his body and you hated how much his jeans hugged his waist.

You wanted him, and bad. So much so that the man had been the starring lead in your fantasies that you had come up with every night before you went to bed. You had been in love with him for years, wondering why you hadn’t asked him out when you had the chance. He was so sweet and caring and you wished that you had been the one he had flirted with when he had a few drinks in him.

“And who are you?” Tyler asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. You loved when he got like this, all authoritative, taking control of the situation. If it had been up to you, you would have taken him right then and there.

“Who are you?” The man replied as it he had the right to be angry with either of you. Tyler felt the need to protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need saving. He just wanted to drape his arm over your shoulder to let everyone know you were his.

Well, that was what he wanted you to be. You had never gotten to that point and it was all his fault. He had been too afraid to make your friendship something more. He was stuck in the friendzone where he had put himself for years, kicking himself for not asking you out the first night he met you.

“I’m her boyfriend so I suggest you move along before I have Enrique throw you out.” You could take care of yourself just fine, but something about Tyler always jumping in to protect you always made you feel a little wet in your panties.

The man just muttered something under his breath before turning away, not wanting to get kicked out again. With him gone, you turned on your heel, heading back to the bar to order a much needed shot with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to your ass, and watching it move as you walked in your tight shorts was torture to the man. He always found himself wanting to get a handful for himself, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he kissed you until you were breathless, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d let out a loud moan and he’d grab you by the backs of your legs, helping you wrap them around him-

You stopped at the bar and ordered a drink before turning to face Tyler as shots of tequila were set on the bar, as if the bartender could read your mind. You reached for both and handed one of them to your best friend.

“Drink up, Owens,” you nudged him and you both downed the shots, feeling it burn all the way down. You both slammed the empty glasses down on the bar and you eyed him, wondering what he would have said if you had invited him to the bathroom right that second.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. A look that you didn’t recognize in any way, shape or form. They were soft and sweet, just like you remembered. In that moment, you could feel your anger towards him falling away. You could never be mad at him for too long, especially not when you looked into those beautiful green eyes and this time, you could tell that he wasn’t trying to use that to his advantage.

“Thank you for that,” you said, nodding your head towards where you both had just been. “And to thank you, I’m adding your drinks to my tab.”

“That’s real sweet, darlin’, but you don’t need to thank me.” That nickname always managed to make you absolutely melt, loving the way it fell from his lips so naturally. “Just your friendship is enough,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” you went to shove his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

“Alright,” he took another sip of his beer. “Dance with me,” he said, tilting his head up a little.

“Dance with you?” You had no idea what he was talking about, wondering if he was expecting you to read his mind. If you had been able to do that, you definitely wouldn’t have been working at the bar part-time.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dance with me as your thank you.” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, not happening,” you shook your head. One thing you didn’t do under any circumstances was dance. A ballet recital gone wrong when you were ten made you swear off the activity entirely, never wanting to be embarrassed like that again.

“No way.”

“Fine,” he took another sip of his beer. “Then I’ll just dance by myself.” He slowly headed to the dancefloor, giving you every opportunity to back out if you didn’t want to do it. His hand moved back, his palm facing you as he continued to head to the dance floor, wiggling his digits to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes even though his back was to you and reluctantly put your hand in his. Tyler pulled you out onto the makeshift dance floor and the two of you somehow ended up directly in the center. He was able to quickly pick up the routine while you were left to flounder, moving awkwardly because of your hands that were still attached.

You watched him move so effortlessly, feeling odd being right next to him since you were always there on the sidelines when he was a part of it. He’d smile at you as you sat at the bar, waving you over, but you always shook your head. But now that you were finally dancing with him, he was hoping that it could become a regular thing.

He liked the way your shoulders would brush when you moved the wrong way and the way you’d squeeze his hand to communicate that you were nervous. You turned the way that you thought you were supposed to go but ended up bumping into Tyler, nothing but a chuckle falling from his lips as he looked down at you.

“Follow me, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “Turn around.” You did as he asked and turned around, your back facing him. His hands slowly moved up to your waist, letting them make a home there. He had touched you there multiple times when he had hugged you, but this was entirely different. So close to the way you had wanted him to touch you, but not nearly enough.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his lips right by the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course you trusted him. Maybe more than you should have.

“Of course,” you responded with a nod.

“Follow my lead, darlin’.” It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Like he knew the exact effect he had on you. But he had too, right? This was all an elaborate way to get you to admit that you had feelings for him. Well, two could play that game.

You kept in rhythm with him, slowly but surely backing up to him, your ass right up against his crotch. You gingerly began to grind on the spot, resisting the urge to turn and see his reaction. You could tell he was enjoying it just by the way his fingers were digging into your waist.

You moved the two of you out of the way of the dancers and continued to grind on Tyler, your movements still slow, but harder now. You could hear his breathing pick up, feeling his nose brush your jaw, his breath on your neck sending another chill up your spin.

He never thought the two of you would be dancing like this, the movements so sensual and sexy. You knew exactly what you were doing and it was fucking unfair. He could feel his cock hardening and pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.

“This isn’t the right dance,” he chuckled.

“I know,” you nodded. “But don’t you like this more, Owens? I can feel you getting hard.” Just when you were going to really take it home, you were suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement. Your hands landed on his chest and Tyler’s hands rested on your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible.

You leaned closer to him, your lips brushing his and the man was convinced he was a goner. He could feel your gloss that had transferred to his own lips and wanted it other places, anywhere you could get your lips. He loved the idea of being covered in your kisses, the prints leaving your mark behind.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sugar,” he said, his voice low, raspy. And it was doing wonders for you. He was so hot and you were having a hard time not making a move anymore.

“Oh, I fully intend on finishing,” you responded, finally pressing your lips to his. His eyes widened at your actions, but he was quick to melt into you, his lips catching yours slowly.

His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, pulling you as close to him as possible. Yours wrapped around his neck, your hands running through his hair at the back of his head.

Your head felt like it was swimming, his lips more soft than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite make out. It was sweet and sour.

You pulled away before it could get too heated and Tyler admired the lip gloss that had smeared across your face, very tempted to go back in for more. His thumb swiped across your cheek to help get rid of it, but that didn’t seem to help, only smearing it further.

The weight of what you had done was catching up to you. You had just kissed your best friend. You had just kissed your best friend and you liked it. You had only gotten a taste but now you wanted more. All of him. You wanted to finally make your fantasies a reality.

And you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that without completely complicating your friendship and you really liked what the two of you had. It was really nice at first, to have a friend without all of the “feelings” bullshit, but now you had actually fallen for him. And hard.

“Fuck,” the word fell from Tyler’s lips, his voice somehow getting even more raspy, making you even more wet. God, you really were fucked, and not in the way you wanted to be.

“Do you wanna take this out to my truck?” You asked, your hands lazily moving up and down his back.

“I’d love to take this out to your truck,” he replied, pressing his lips to yours before paying your bills and leading you out of the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You rifled through your purse, looking for your keys and found them before unlocking your truck. Tyler opened the driver’s seat door for you before helping you into it. He then closed the door and rounded the hood before getting into his own seat.

You peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, thankful for how late it was so there was little traffic. Your heart pounded as you pulled into what looked like an abandoned parking lot.

Why you were scared of what you were about to do, you didn’t know. Tyler was sweet and you knew that he would do whatever he could to make you comfortable. He was nothing but a sweetheart and would make you feel good, stopping at nothing to do so.

You put the car in park and turned it off before turning toward Tyler. You stared at each other, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing a soft country song. You turned the volume up to attempt to drown out your thoughts. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know, but you were fully prepared to dive right in.

Tyler reached out, placing a hand on your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his lips ghosting over yours, almost as if he was afraid to go for it. That confidence from the bar completely evaporated into the air.

You took the lead, pressing your lips to his, your movements more rushed and rough as you nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a little whine and that was enough to make you absolutely soaked.

Rain pattered against the car as you slotted your lips together once more before pulling away. You climbed over the center console and placed yourself into his lap, straddling him.

Tyler looked up at you, his pupils blown and his lips smeared with your lipgloss. It was an adorable sight and you hated how good he looked in that goddamn hat. You took the hat off of his head and put it on your own, moving your head this way and that, modeling it for him.

“How do I look?” You asked, turning your head to the side and he just laughed.

“You look good,” he nodded.

“As good as you?”

“Even better,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, removing the hat from your head and setting it on the driver’s seat.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours and a moan fell from your lips at the sensation. His hands slipped into your back pockets, giving your ass a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth which only made him do it again.

You began to grind against him as your tongues tangled together and you could hear a groan in the back of his throat. The whole thing was overstimulating for him, there was no way he was going to ask you to stop any time soon.

Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did. Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.

Tyler’s hands moved to your shorts as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Tyler take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.

You both struggled to pull down your shorts, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why neither of you ever did this kind of thing. He got them down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his jeans, his belt buckle making a clattering noise as it hit the tops of his boots.

You both removed your shirts and Tyler eyed the black lacy number you were wearing. His hand moved up to run over the fabric of the tops of the cups, his fingers brushing your skin every so slightly.

“Like what you see?” You asked, leaning down a little so he could get a better look at your cleavage. And you had him right where you wanted him, catching him staring right at it. You scooted up so that they were right in front of his face and he brought his lips to the skin, pressing a soft to it.

He then moved up, his lips now connected with your neck, his tongue swiping back and forth as he began to suck. You moved your head to give him more access and that caused him to nip at your skin, another gasp falling from your lips.

“So good,” you moaned, your eyes shutting. He continued to work, having every intention of creating a hickey right there underneath your ear. He licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth.

To test the water, he grazed the skin with his teeth and you moaned loudly, reaching your orgasm. God, you were so fucking hot, the way you were able to make the most pretty sounds and look pretty while doing it. The sweat already forming on your skin, making you look absolutely irresistible.

You helped him get his underwear down and realized there was no going back as he cock sprang free from it. It was hard as a rock and probably the biggest you had ever seen. Who knew that your best friend was packing so much? Clearly you didn’t.

You pulled a condom from your purse and rolled it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of it, both of you moving awkwardly as you got used to each other in that way. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his head went to your waist, helping you move, riding him slowly.

You picked up the pace, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself getting close just by looking at you. The cause of his wet dreams right on top of him, almost convincing him that he had been in one.

He let out a moan of his own and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you did so. You had barely even done anything as he already looked blissed out. This had to be a record. Knowing that you could do that to someone gave you so much power and you got more confident, moving as fast and as hard as you could.

Tyler let out another moan, his own scream climbing up his throat, his fingers digging into your waist, surely forming bruises. His head was back against the headrest, his eyes shut tight as another scream ripped through him, his breathing labored.

His hands moved up your back, his nails gliding down it, leaving scratches and your back arched at the movement, reaching your own orgasm. But you stayed there, seeing if you could get one more from him before taking a break before going for round two.

“Holy shit,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing,” he said through breaths.

His hands scratched up your back as you watched him, seeing that he was close again. A final loud moan fell from his lips and you slowed down your pace but kept moving, another orgasm rolling through you.

You sat there, staring at each other, your chests rising and falling as you did so. You never thought you would have ever gotten to that place with Tyler, but there you were, sitting on top of his dick, having just had the best sex of your life. And it hadn't even lasted that long.

“I have an idea. And hear me out, okay?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your arms lazily.

“Okay.”

“What if-what I want you to be the only one I sleep with?” Your eyes widened at his words, but you had to admit that you loved the idea. There was no way you could fuck anyone else after that. He had ruined you for any other man.

“Oh, so like friends with benefits?” So you didn’t understand. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted you to be his. Solely exclusive with him. His girlfriend. The one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning.

“I love you, y/n,” he said, sitting up, taking you into his arms, looking you in the eyes so you knew he was serious. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned on telling you, but he supposed that this was a good a time as any.

“I love you too, Tyler,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, this kiss sweeter than the others, both of you smiling into it. “Be mine?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he let out a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex

Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut. 

Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao

You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either. 

On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry. 

You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women. 

He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.

You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.

He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him. 

Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question. 

“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.

He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before. 

He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you. 

“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?” 

“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group. 

“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends. 

“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.” 

He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened. 

Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone  attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker. 

Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay. 

“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly. 

“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire. 

The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways. 

You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.

“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”

Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry) 

The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line. 

“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”

“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.” 

It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you. 

You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease. 

You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle. 

“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets. 

He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane. 

“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp. 

Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. 

“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown  branches from the larger trees. 

“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.” 

You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy. 

“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?” 

“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list. 

“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend. 

“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you. 

“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly. 

“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.” 

“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”

You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long. 

You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl. 

He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle. 

Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on. 

“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows. 

Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils. 

You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this. 

Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it. 

He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes. 

You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips. 

“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down. 

He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it. 

“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face. 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” 

Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak. 

You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth. 

He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt. 

You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there. 

He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made. 

You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right. 

“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction. 

“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs. 

When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic. 

“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.

He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs. 

You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed. 

Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you. 

He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around. 

You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud. 

Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped. 

“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up. 

Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed. 

“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you. 

He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie. 

You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths. 

He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. 

The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you. 

“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you. 

What Daryl  didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him. 

“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.” 

He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow. 

Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips. 

You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time. 

His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making. 

“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth. 

His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin. 

He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet. 

“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.” 

He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time. 

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder. 

The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.

“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you. 

“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you. 

All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist. 

“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete. 

“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his. 

The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it. 

You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.

Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.

 Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you. 

“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds. 

“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.” 

He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted. 

“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit. 

“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”

You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement. 

The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again. 

Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions. 

“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies. 

It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp. 

Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck. 

And his fly was still down. 

“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.

“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.” 

“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face. 

“Hey.”

“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already. 

“Think she’ll give me a ride?”

“Shut the hell up, man.” 

[gremlingottoosilly]

reader who started out as pickpocket only to become a sugarbaby because konig thinks the groping while stealing is hot. put your hand on his ass to get his wallet.

You didn't want to grope his ass while working on getting his wallet. You honestly didn't want to do this. It's not your fault that is ass is round, fat and kinda muscular, that even his expensive pants can't really hide the whole fucking bakery he was hiding under these layers of fabric. It just got in the way - you wanted to grab the wallet or a phone or something else big and kinda squarish, pocking in the outline of his pocket while he was too busy chatting with some weird masked guy. You hoped it would be a cardholder or at least some cash for the road. It was a gun. And by the moment your grabby fingers wrapped around something that was obviously the barrel of a gun, you already felt a burning gaze and a hand going to catch you before you could dash to run. Man doesn't scream. Man doesn't even punch you. He knows that you can feel the gun in his pocket - something that is literally forbidden in a country like Austria - and that you understand that if he can carry it around so freely and fearlessly, he probably won't face the consequences if he were to use it. You're fucked. But, you're fucked not even for the obvious reasons, oh no. You're fucked because Konig likes you. It was about time someone finally noticed how well build he is, even though he left the army a while ago, and it was the first time in forever since someone grabbed his ass with such passion. A man of his resolve likes his women feisty, and with a bit of fire inside of them, so he ignores the fact you didn't even want to grope him...it's already done and he likes your hands on him too much to let go of a pretty little pickpocket like you. Hey, at least he picked you up from the rugs and troubles of a daylight petty thievery business. Being his sugar baby isn't as bad as you could imagine - you just have to make sure you like the feeling of constant threat, overly expensive gifts and his hands groping your ass at random times. A perfect life.