#let me know if there's anything I need to clarify or you want to know more about!

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

"That said, both Styles and his therapist have questioned why he cares quite so much about being likeable. This is one of the things he thought about a lot in his big pandemic reflection. In part, it's a choice, he explained. He recalled moving to London after The X Factor and hearing tales of petulant celebrities screaming because someone got their coffee order wrong and deciding to never be that guy, to never give someone a petty reason to bad-mouth him. But more recently he's come to worry that the drive for approval came from a more complex place, a place of caution, fear, control." "Styles said he often spent interviews terrified about saying the wrong thing until he stopped to question what abhorrent belief or bizarre opinion he was scared he'd accidentally reveal and realized he couldn't think of anything."

"And he thought about the cleanliness clauses in the contracts he used to sign, which would dictate that they would be null and void if he did anything supposedly unsavoury, and about how terrified that used to make him. And about when he signed his solo contract and learned that the ability to make music would not be affected by personal transgressions, he burst into tears, a reaction he still seemed shocked by, retelling it to me now, years later. "I felt free," he explained."

"When Styles began therapy about five years ago [so in 2017], he was reluctant initially, feeling it was a music industry cliché. "I thought it meant that you were broken," he said. "I wanted to be the one who could say I didn't need it." He returned to the home theme that has underpinned our conversation, explaining that therapy has allowed him to "open up rooms in himself" that he didn't know existed, allowed him to feel things more honestly, where before he had tended to"emotionally coast.""

"Recently Styles began to work through issues related to intimacy, dating, love. "For a long time, it felt like the only thing that was mine was my sex life. I felt so ashamed about it, ashamed at the idea of people even knowing that I was having sex, let alone who with," he said."

"You look back, especially now there's all the documentaries, like the Britney documentary, and you watch how people were abused in that way, by that system, especially women. You recall articles from not even five years ago, and you're like, I can't even believe that was written."

He has been thinking a lot recently about autonomy, ownership, privacy. About what he should be able to keep to himself, what he should be able to simply communicate through his music without follow-up questions or prying. Around the time of Fine Line, he faced scrutiny around his sexuality. People became incredulous that he wore dresses, waved Pride flags, and yet hadn't clarified with precision, publicly to a journalist or on social media, the specifics of who he'd slept with, how he defined. This expectation is, to him, bizarre, "outdated." "I've been really open with it with my friends, but that's my personal experience; it's mine," he said.

Despite the acceptance that some things could, should, have been different, he still feels lucky every day, he said, lucky to make music, lucky to do what he loves.

"You can't win music. It's not like Formula One," he said. "I was like, in my lifetime, there will be 10 more people who burst onto the scene in that way, and I'm only going to get further away from being the young thing. So, get comfortable with finding something else that makes you happy. I just found that so liberating."

"I just want to make stuff that is right, that is fun, in terms of the process, that I can be proud of for a long time, that my friends can be proud of, that my family can be proud of, that my kids will be proud of one day," he said.

““In lockdown, I started processing a lot of stuff that happened when I was in the band,” he said. He thought about the way he was encouraged to give so much of himself away, “to get people to engage with you, to like you.” He thought about the fact that no baby photos exist of him that aren’t on the internet (you give a bunch to an X Factor producer doing a piece on your backstory without much thought, and suddenly your childhood is online). He thought about the journalists asking questions, when he was still a teenager, about how many people he’d slept with and how, rather than telling them to go away, he would worry about how he could be coy without them leaving the room annoyed. “Why do I feel like I’m the one who has done something wrong?” he said to me.”

— Harry for Better Homes and Gardens Magazine

[i2rizz]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Fandom: Blue Lock

Characters: Nagi x reader

Based on the song of Arctic monkeys🤭

Angst i guess?

------------‐---------------------------------------

The phone buzzed on your nightstand for the third time in a row. You stared at the screen, the light illuminating your dark room as Nagi’s name flashed across the display. A sigh escaped your lips. You didn’t even need to pick up to know where this was going.

You swiped to answer anyway.

“...Hey,” his voice came through, slightly slurred, dragging the word out like he had all the time in the world.

“Nagi,” you started, already weary. “What time is it?”

A faint chuckle. “Uh, I dunno. Late?”

“It's 2 a.m.,” you clarified, rubbing your temples.

“Yeah, so? You’re awake,” he said lazily, as if that was a perfectly valid excuse for waking you.

You heard the familiar noise of background chatter and the bass of some party music, muffled but ever-present. Nagi must’ve stepped out for some air—or, more likely, to make this call.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though a twinge of irritation bled through.

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” His tone was nonchalant, but you knew better.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a low laugh. “Does it matter?”

Yes. It mattered a lot.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. The calls always came late at night, right when you were starting to feel okay about the distance that had grown between you two. Nagi was someone you once thought you understood completely—a quiet, laid-back guy who didn’t seem to need much from the world. But lately, he’d become a ghost of himself during the day and a restless spirit at night, always reaching out to you when he wasn’t sober enough to hold back.

“I’m not doing this again, Nagi,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Doing what?”

“This—whatever this is. You call me at ungodly hours, barely coherent, and expect me to just... what? Wait for you?”

He was silent for a beat, the sound of the distant party filling the gap.

“Dunno,” he said finally. “I just—everything’s loud here. You’re not.”

It wasn’t a compliment; it was an excuse.

“Do you even realize how unfair this is?” you continued, feeling a knot of frustration and sadness build in your chest. “You ignore me all day, but when you’re high, I’m suddenly worth your time?”

“I’m not ignoring you,” he mumbled, but the words were weak, lacking conviction.

“You could’ve fooled me,” you said, voice cracking slightly despite your efforts to stay calm.

There was another pause. You could hear him shifting, maybe leaning against a wall or the side of a car.

“...I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and for the first time, it sounded genuine.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Nagi, you can’t keep doing this. Calling me in the middle of the night doesn’t fix anything. It just hurts more.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The vulnerability in his tone made your resolve falter. You hated how much you still cared, how much you wanted to believe there was something salvageable in whatever was left between you two.

“Why do you even call me?” you asked softly, more for yourself than for him.

“Because you’re the only one who gets me,” he said without hesitation. “Everyone else... it’s just noise.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, but tonight, it hit differently. Maybe because you wanted to believe it was true.

“Then why don’t you talk to me during the day? When you’re sober?”

“I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I suck at... everything, really.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You don’t suck at soccer.”

“Yeah, well. That’s the only thing I’m good at.”

The conversation drifted into silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. Part of you wanted to hang up, to finally put an end to this exhausting cycle. But another part of you—the part that still cared too much—couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

“Nagi,” you said finally, voice softer now. “I can’t keep being your escape. I need more than this. We both do.”

He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you thought he might’ve hung up. But then he spoke, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile promise, one that you weren’t sure he could keep.

“You already have,” you said, tears stinging your eyes as you ended the call.

The phone sat silent on your nightstand, no longer buzzing with calls or texts. You stared at it for a while, wondering if he’d try again. But deep down, you knew this was the end of the line—at least for now.

Nagi might’ve needed you, but you needed someone who could show up when it mattered most.

And tonight, you chose yourself.

------------‐---------------------------------------

It wasnt smth big yet i still feel bad☹️

[kaiyunsim]

abscence of you —

pairing : bf!jaehyun x gn!reader

summary : you and jaehyun are caught between love and personal needs. you both watch as your relationship slips away, knowing they could never give eachother what they needed the most.

genre / warnings : angst, swearing (1 f-word), reader is lwk a red flag, maybe more

a/n : I LOVE BOYNEXTDOOR AND GRENTPEREZ ! also i rewrote this like two times cuz i was unhappy and still kinda am but i hope u guys enjoy ! (lmk if u want more cuz i like writing angst)

currently playing : absence of you - grentperez

— not proof read — wc : 1.1k —

you are always busy with making music but jaehyun never minded it because it’s your passion and he found it cute that you put your efforts into something you both like. he hasn’t seen you in a while thought and he really started to miss you so be wanted to surprise you at your apartment.

jaehyun opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb you, knowing you are probably working on something. he made sure to get ramen that isn’t that spicy and has some mushrooms because it’s the way he likes it but also gets your favorite. he leaves the takeout on the table and sees you typing on the laptop.

“i got your favorite, let’s eat,” he says with happiness, finally getting to see you after a while. he approaches you and gives you a back hug.

“thanks, give me five minutes to finish this,” you say, not taking your eyes off the screen.

he only nods, moving to the table and unpacking the food and set up the table for the both of you. eventually, ten minutes pass and he just watches you work.

“are you going to eat before the food gets cold?” he asks gently, trying to remind you.

you glance at the clock, “oh, shoot. sorry, i lost track of time,” you reply, getting up and taking your seat at the table.

jaehyun begins to eat and you are about to start before your phone starts buzzing. you pick up the phone and start answering texts and he just watches.

“do you ever just stop?” he asks gently again. bothered, but not wanting to cause trouble.

you look up from your phone, which is now facedown on the table, and frowns slightly, “what is that supposed to mean?” you asks.

“forget it.” he pushes it off.

—

after that, you guys don’t see eachother for a while due to your conflicting schedules. whenever you could spare some time, he would be working on his songs. whenever he would be free, you would be busy with songs of your own.

the next time you would both see eachother is when you went on a hangout with your friends. they wanted to invite jaehyun so they asked if he wanted to join and he accepted.

you picked him up from his place and they all meet up at your place. it starts off as awkward before sungho, being the oldest hyung, wants to break the ice and asks a question to the couple.

“so what’s the next for you two? moving in together? engagement?” he asks lightheartedly, the last questions were in a more joking manner.

he replies half jokingly, rolling his eyes, “if i can ever get them to take a break from producing music on soundcloud.”

you laugh awkwardly, “what? i like where we are now. there’s no rush”

and the silence came back, as if nothing ever happened. but something did happen, tension increasing and sungho started to feel awkward.

his smile falters and he chugs the rest of his drink, not wanting to push the answer out of you.

later, you give jaehyun a ride home and the tension continues to seep into him but he decides to break it.

“you didn’t have to laugh it off like that…” jaehyun comments hesitantly.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, confused.

“the future, us. do you think about it?” he clarifies.

“of course, but i’m just… not ready for anything long term. there’s still so much i wanna do”

“yeah, and i guess i’m not a part of it” he murmurs to himself.

“hey thats not fair. im trying to build something for myself. that doesnt mean i don’t think about us” you answer. you sound somewhat annoyed at the constant comments from him.

“of course you think of us,” he says sarcastically.

“i don’t have time for this” you roll your eyes.

“you don’t have time for me, you mean” he says, raising his voice slightly.

“i didn’t ask you to come” you exclaim, matching his energy.

“jesus fucking christ y/n, i’m sorry i wanted to see my partner after a long day of promotions. i’ll just schedule an appointment next time.” he says sarcastically, throwing his arms up.

just as he says that, you stop the car as you guys are in front of his house. he undoes his buckle and gets out of your car, not wanting to deal with more of you for today.

days later, jaehyun hasn’t reached out, and neither has you. both being consumed by their own thoughts.

jaehyun replays their argument, torn between guilt and frustration. he wonders if he’s asking for too much or if you love him as much as he does you.

you try to focus on your work but feels a hollow ache whenever you check your phone and find no messages from jaehyun. you wonder if he’s tired of you completely.

jaehyun decides to stop by your place to talk. he just wants to communicate how he feels. when he arrives, he sees you on a video call with your team, all animated and smiling. he watches you through the party opened door, realizing how vibrant and alive you seem in your own world.

you spot him and quickly end the call knowing your team would understand. you open the door, your smile fading as you see the look on his face.

jaehyun looks at you with a weak smile, “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“what?” you reply, confused with where he’s taking this.

“you’re incredible at what you do, i just…”

he pauses.

“don’t think there’s space for me in your life.”

you sit there. letting the words sink in.

you shake your head, “that’s not true jaehyun, i’ve always wanted you with me.” you say, gripping onto his hands, eyes starting to water.

“but not enough to make me feel like i belong.” he says. finally being able to confess his feelings.

they both sit in silence. neither knowing what to say. finally, jaehyun breaks it.

“i love you, y/n. but i need more than this…”

jaehyun walks away, not wanting to turn back, leaving you stunned with tears streaming down involentarily. it’s not like you were sobbing, but god damn did you wanna crawl up and just cry. but your breath hitched, refusing to cry further

in the quiet of your apartment, you whisper his name into the empty air, knowing it was the closest you’d ever get to having him back.

[rey-jake-therapist]

I didnt realize Payne clarified that Sauron wanted Galadriel to be *his* queen. I've seen some antis insist that he wasn't attracted to her in the least so he meant to say 'I can make you A queen, but not MY queen'.

And they were also going on how there's a hierarchy in the film industry, in which certain positions hold more narrative and directional authority despite what actors and lower level exec's say. That's why they kept using this hierarchy that Payne and McKay override Charlotte's words about haladriel. But if we go by the Anti's information, then that confirms that Sauron did want Galadriel as HIS QUEEN (love or not), since its stated exactly that way by Payne himself. If not, then why didn't he say 'A queen with me', or 'A queen by my side', instead? There are other ways he could've phrased. Even if you say that he used 'basically', that still doesn't change the fact that Payne made it clear that Sauron wanted Galadriel to rule WITH him, not by some corner of ME (I know we're kind of ignoring Gal atm to dissect the wording but I see them as fictional characters not real people lol). It also kind of overrides some of Charlie's earlier remarks where he denies or subverts Sauron's intention regarding making her queen. But it echoes back to what you said though, that things change over time.

And just to make it clear, we don't need to necessarily obey what showrunners/actors have said and treat it like it's a hard rule for how we interpret these characters. This is just an interesting piece of info I think should be pointed out. Especially since haters will find anything to try to minimize and invalidate haladriel. I feel very sad (for them lol).

Well, I'll answer that by saying that first, I don't think that I can do that ignoring Gal's response, simply because what she answered is important to understand why Sauron didn't say "my" queen, imho.

I think we can't leave Galadriel outside of the loop here, because the phrasing used by Sauron is directly connected to the way she herself used. She said, "you would make me A tyrant", to which he naturally answers, "I would make you A queen". Then she's the one using the "MY" : "And you. MY king".

What I think, it's that the writers wanted to highlight the fact that them being together as king and queen/husband and wife was her idea as much as his. I think it's important for the interpretation of that scene, for the audience to realize that Galadriel wanted this.

Let's say Sauron had said, "I would make you MY queen", and she had answered, "And you would be the king" : it would have sounded like something that was forced on her : she would have been his wife in this scenario, wether she wanted it or not. It would have given "forced marriage" vibes, and would have deprived Galadriel of her agency. And believe me : if the antis are now using this scene against shippers because Sauron didn't say "my queen", you can be sure that they would have weaponized this scene even more if they could have interpreted it that way.

With Galadriel being the one who says, "And you. My king", it says that she was seeing herself ruling with him, as queen and king and as husband and wife. Notice that he didn't correct her, as it was probably what he wanted to hear.

It also kind of overrides some of Charlie's earlier remarks where he denies or subverts Sauron's intention regarding making her queen.

I mean, I don't know if it overrides it. Charlie first denied that it was a marriage proposal, but later admitted that this was "de facto" exactly that.

"Sauron, meanwhile, won’t make the mistake of connecting with someone ever again, not after Galadriel’s rejection of his de facto “marriage proposal,” as Vickers describes it, at the end of Season 1. “He’s moved on to bigger and better things” since, Vickers argues, but try as they might, there’s no denying their entwined fates.  "Galadriel and Sauron share the deepest connection to another being either of them has ever experienced, a fact that haunts them both in the new episodes. What they share “is greater than romance,” Vickers explains. “Their connection runs far deeper than anything surface level.”

Source

Now if you refer to the fact that Charlie claimed several times that if Galadriel had accepted his offer, she would have been nothing more than his secretary, another shiny ring at his hand, I also don't think that it contradicts the idea that he wanted her to be at his side as a queen. I often read that Charlie's wrong, because Sauron is a Maiar who was created to follow and serve. So by this logic, he wanted to worship Galadriel like he worshipped Morgoth.

I think it's true, for most of it, and we saw it during all season 1 : who called all the shots ? Galadriel did. Who followed her despite his initial refusal ? Sauron. She wanted him to be a king ? He made himself a king. She wanted him to go rescue the Southlands with her ? He went with her, even if first, he didn't want to ! The fact that it was in his personal interest to do that is besides the point : at no moment did he try to force her into doing anything. It's not in his nature, and being in his repetant era then, Sauron was more inclined to listen to his nature than we saw him be in season 2. In season 1, Sauron was the happiest we saw of him so far, especially when he was at the forge, doing what he was created for, but also when he followed Galadriel on the battlefield :

I mean, words have their importance especially when it comes to Sauron, who never chooses his words randomly :

She "pushed" him. He described here exactly what a leader does. After Morgoth's defeat, he found himself leaderless, and he was lost because due to his nature, what he really wants/needs is someone who takes the lead. In Galadriel, he recognized someone who had the potential to do just that. In season 2, we saw him in a position of leadership, manipulating everybody like a puppet to make them do everything he wanted, yada yada. And yet, that was his face for 99% of the season :

He seemed as alive as a dead fish.

Now, where my opinion often diverges from what seems to be this most popular opinion, is that I believe Charlie's nevertheless right regarding the turn their partnership as king and queen would have taken, had Galadriel accepted. Thousands of years ago, Mairon was corrupted by Morgoth, and as time passed, I think he developed a desire to overrule Morgoth, because that's what this kind of corruption does : it gives an hunger for power, even to beings who are not originally meant to want it. As Sauron, he was given an incommensurable power over others, and he enjoyed it. He always followed Morgoth and never betrayed him (probably because he had sworn a blood oath to him, preventing him to take any action against him), but he grew extremely frustrated of his methods, as he had a different vision.

And of course he did, because destroying was, again, not what he was created for. What Morgoth did, and asked him to do, went against his nature. As apprentice of Aulë, he became skilled at crafting and making things. When Celebrimbor told him his only craft was treachery, it must have hit HARD, because it wasn't always the case.

(Aside note : I was a bit annoyed that Celebrimbor was the one who got to hit Sauron where it hurt the most, while Galadriel only got a pathetic "heal yourself" that couldn't mean anything to him because they never had any conversation about his corruption by Melkor).

He started dreaming of the idea that if Morgoth was ever to disappear, he would take his place and rule in his stead, and that's exactly what he tried to do once Morgoth was defeated :

As we saw, it didn't turn out very well. Why ? I think, because Sauron wasn't Morgoth, he wasn't a born dictator, and he didn't manage to inspire enough fear of him to Adar and the Orcs, only resentment, so when he tried to put Morgoth's crown on his head, they betrayed him.

(idk but maybe looking like a twink didn't help. Just sayin')

But it doesn't mean that Sauron gave up on his dream of ruling, though. So I think that when he decided that he wanted Galadriel to be his queen, he was probably torn between what his nature dictated him to do (giving her all the power she needed to have to be THE queen of Middle-Earth, while he would get the follower's role he had beside Morgoth back), and the ambitions he nourished of ruling Middle-Earth himself, leaving only crumbs to Galadriel like Morgoth did to him. Even in this scenario, he would have shared his power with her, but not enough to take the reigns of the kingdom.

We can't know what would have happened, we can only speculate, but I tend to side with Charlie on this one because at the beginning, there's a clear power imbalance between them : Sauron is a powerful Maiar, a demigod, and Galadriel is just an Elf. For her to become as powerful as him and be his equal, would have required him to willingly share the entirety of his power with her. Would have he done that, while he had all these ideas about healing Middle-Earth and believed he and only he knew exactly how to do it... ?

I mean, the only thing we can be sure of, it is that it was his intention to give her plenty of power. He wanted everybody not to just respect her, but to worship her like a goddess. It's the extent of this power that we don't know about. And did he want to be worshipped too ? I'd say, probably yes, personally.

Sorry anon, I didn't start answering this ask planning to write a dissertation... I guess I can't help myself, when it comes to Sauron. He's just that interesting !

[dragon-gem]

… I was inspired okay.

—

Zane shifted in his seat, discomfort mixing with anxiety inside of him. I wish this was over with already.

It was only him and Pixal today. The others were off doing other things, and although he’d offered to join them, she had been insistent.

You haven’t undergone any maintenance in 60 years, Zane. You must slow down for one moment so I can assess your systems.

Except that he didn’t want to slow down, didn’t want to think too hard about all those years. Slowing down meant having time to consider. Slowing down meant allowing the guilt to consume him.

Zane had never wanted to erase his own memory so badly as he had in the last few weeks.

“I will be as quick as I can, I promise.” Pixal glanced over at him and smiled, her green eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights of the garage.

“I know. I’ve just been putting it off.” Zane forced himself to sit still as she came over, putting a hand over his chest compartment before pressing the button to open it. “I feel fine, you know.”

“I am sure you do. But that amount of time without maintenance must have been difficult on your circuits. I’m just going to assess the damage and what repairs will need to be done.”

He laid back so she could see, staring up at the stone ceiling. “It… was a bit of time, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Pixal stopped, her voice filled with… was that hesitation? “Zane, did your internal heater stop functioning?”

“I usually have no need of it. My temperature gauge is a bit off, but beyond that…” Zane stopped, glancing over at her. “Why do you ask?”

“There is… ice.”

“What?”

“You have ice coating your circuits,” she clarified, her eyes finally meeting his. “Have you been running slower than normal?”

“Maybe? I haven’t noticed. How bad is it?”

Pixal sighed. “I have to run a full diagnostic. Zane, I’ve never seen your powers affect you like this.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, letting her plug him into the computer and blinking at the flow of information that came across his vision. Mission reports, blueprints, information from all over Ninjago City…

It was dizzying. He never liked being online— conscious when he was plugged into the computers.

Zane shut his eyes, blocking the flow. “I wasn’t myself, Pixal. I couldn’t control my abilities. I…” I did horrible things, my love. So many terrible things. I don’t even want to tell you about them because I know you’ll despise me.

I despise myself. I didn’t protect anyone. All I did was destroy.

Pixal must have sensed his thoughts, because she put a hand on his shoulder. “You must not blame yourself, Zane. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have been so corruptible, shouldn’t have allowed my powers to be used that way.” He shuddered. “I remember it all, Pixal. Every moment. Every person I froze. Every scream… I have violated my base code.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, a warmth filtering through him as she turned on his internal heater. How long had it been since he’d turned that on? It must have turned off at some point while he was—

No, best not to dwell on it.

“I refuse to believe it was your fault.” Pixal finally said. “Look at me, Zane.”

He opened his eyes, focusing on her face. Every line, every carefully smoothed out bump and scratch. She was familiar to him, as familiar as his powers had been.

At least up until he had used them only to terrorize and destroy for 60 years. Now, he could hardly recognize himself.

Pixal smiled, touching his cheek gently. “I don’t blame you for what happened, Zane. None of us do.”

“I am a monster, Pixal,” Zane whispered, hating the words as soon as they fell from his mouth. “I ki—“

“No. It wasn’t you.”

“It was my hands. My powers. I should have tried to fight it, I should have at least tried to resist the scroll.”

“You did. You almost hurt Lloyd, and you didn’t do it, remember?”

“Because he said my name. If he hadn’t…”

“Lloyd is fine. The people of the Never Realm will be fine. It is you I am worried about.”

Zane fell silent, watching as her attention turned back to his frost bitten insides. “I was the Ice Emperor longer than I’ve been a ninja, you know. I’m older than you now. Much older.”

“I know, but you’ve always been older than me. You are the outdated model, remember?” Pixal’s tone was teasing, but even he caught the undercurrent of sadness. She doesn’t like this any more than I do.

“Not to worry, Zane, I’ve always liked older men.” Pixal smiled at him before looking down again, her fingers stilling their repairs. “I only wish I had been able to do something to stop this from happening to you.”

He shook his head. “I would have only hurt you, Pixal. I don’t want that— I’ve never wanted that.”

Pixal pressed a button on the computer, and the dizzying spread of information finally stopped scrolling across his vision. Thank the FSM. “I would do anything to get you back, Zane. Fate seems to enjoy separating us, and I am beginning to get tired of it.”

Zane managed a smile. “Perhaps this will be the last time.”

“One can only hope.”

Silence fell over the two of them as she continued to work, more of a comfortable silence than anything else.

Maybe it wasn’t truly the act of forgetting that I wanted, he mused, staring up at the ceiling once again. Maybe it is the privilege of being able to cry.

YOU KNOW WHAT I WOULD'VE LOVED TO SEE? THE IMPACT OF ZANE BEING THE ICE EMPEROR FOR 60 YEARS.

HE WAS THE ICE EMPEROR LONGER THAN HE'S BEEN A NINJA.

HE KILLED ALMOST ALL OF THE YETIS. HE FROZE THE FORMLING VILLAGE. HE CORRUPTED THE SAMURAI. All of that goes against his base directive - to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I NEED to see the emotional impact on Zane, and eventually the rest of the team. Bonus points if it comes with seeing the impact on Zane's body, since he definitely didn't get any maintenance in his time in the Never-Realm.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[uselessnbee]

okay i don't want to be THAT bitch but if El calls out Mike on his bullshit in s5 how the love confession was shit and untrue i do kinda want Mike to turn around and be like "okay well what do you love me for?" because let's be real girl would not have an answer for that 💀

and maybe it would be good to be the last thing that would make her go oh i've never loved him that way either

like yes she totally should throw everything in Mike's face cause she deserves so much better but let's not pretend like she's a good girlfriend to him and it's just Mike being the problem

this fucker has been depressed and struggling for months and like did she ever even ask how is he doing? not her fault but the fact that Mike has been struggling and never once thought about talking to El because he doesn't feel like he can be vulnerable with her? the fact that he pretends he's someone he's not because he feels like she wouldn't want him for who he is? seriously no hate to El i love her to bits and yes Mike is bigger asshole in this but we really need to stop acting like El is perfect and can do no wrong

and that one time in s4 when Mike actually tried to be vulnerable with her and let her know that he understands because he's been bullied his whole life and she just invalidates his feelings and completely dismisses him? i do understand her pov and what she meant but as someone who's also been bullied and have so many people invalidate my feelings and how it affected me and still affects me to this day all the time it really hurt to hear it. the way Mike's feelings are constantly being invalidated and dismissed by both the characters in the show and this fandom just because "others have it worse" really disgusts me

anyways i really just want to point out that this is a relationship. there are two people in this relationship and it all goes both ways. it's not just Mike being an asshole friend and a shitty boyfriend. El isn't really a great girlfriend either and when they were just hanging out together the whole summer it is on El too. they're both just kids trying to do their best and making mistakes we can acknowledge that both of them make some really questionable things so they both can grow and learn

[watatsumiis]

Heya, I'm not entirely sure how to start this post, it feels a little weird making it at all, but I realised it might be some kind of necessary evil or something like that.

To that anon who sent me those three asks last night (all within the span of a few minutes and the same typing style, so I know they're from the same person), I wanted to reach out to you. I'm not going to sit here and call you names and mock you because that's simply not the kind of person I am, despite the things you said and the assumptions you made. This is going on the idea that you're not a troll stirring drama and just ... someone who had something to say, but wasn't sure how to say it.

I know sometimes that anonymous feature is really tempting, especially when you feel like someone has wronged you and you want to give them a piece of your mind in a very abrupt manner, but it's not a productive way of conversation at all. All it does is upset people (including yourself, because I know in a lot of cases you'll end up refreshing and waiting for some kind of response that you probably won't get).

If you have something you'd like to have a conversation about, you can reach out calmly and maturely and have a genuine conversation with the person instead of sending them messages that they'll likely gloss over and probably even laugh at. I figured you likely won't do it, so I want to reach out and invite you to have a genuine conversation with me, no hard feelings about the asks, I'd just like to get your perspective and clarify on some of the things you've said. You're free to DM me or send me an ask off-anon, since I've blocked your anon asks. This kind of behaviour is genuinely not healthy for anybody and even if you don't reach out, I hope you're able to take some time and reflect on that, take a step back from the intricacies of social media for a bit and go from there.

[princekirijo]

What is the big difference between regular Riku and black mask Riku? Like what changed in his story to change his motivations and methods?

Thanks for the ask :]

So Black Mask AU (or Black Captain/Dark Captain I haven't entirely settled on a name) is a new game plus AU and that's important to explain the changes in his motivations!

The AU starts exactly the same as Captain, Riku moves to Tokyo, Hatanaka is a piece of shit to him, he meets the thieves and they start investigating her palace. However this time round, something in the palace goes wrong and the thieves end up failing the deadline. And failing the deadline for Hatanaka's palace... results in Riku's death :] (putting it shortly Riku is more useful to her dead than alive so she has him killed)

That should have been the end of him, however he wakes up immediately after getting shot. After being understandably disorientated he realizes he's somehow been transported to 2/3 years prior to the events of Captain (a couple of months before he was due to move to Tokyo) and he has all his memories intact, right up until the point he was shot.

This understandably messes him up a lot because he went through hell and on top of that he remembers everything he learnt during Hatanaka's palace (I won't go into much of that as its spoilers for the main AU). He also decides to go into the Metaverse in Port Island because he still has access to it, and its here he awakens to his black mask persona (Mordred who I ADORE lmao) and where he first kills someone (albeit by accident).

As for his motivations someone put it really well once, spite in general is a huge motivator for Riku in both AUs! Black Mask Riku basically takes the idea of him being motivated by spite to a whole new level, as his main goal in the AU is to get revenge on those who wronged him and who caused his death in the original timeline. He's here and alive in spite of these people and he is sure as hell going to make their life hell.

[cleolinda]

I am not the first person to attempt explaining this, but let me tell you about some of the nuances of Bless Your Heart™. It does not solely or even usually translate to “you are a dumbass.” It is more subtle than that:

It is primarily a thing you say to clarify (or falsify) the tone of what you DID say

OR

it is secondarily a thing you say instead of something ELSE to maintain 1) plausible deniability 2) a moral high ground.

“Bless your heart”: You genuinely deserve blessings because you are going through it right now and you need them. Gratitude, sympathy. “I’m going to have surgery next week.” “Bless your heart! Is there anything I can do for you?” (“Oh, bless your heart for asking.”) Original face-value meaning.

“Bless your heart”: You need a blessing because God knows you’re lacking (manners, intelligence, common sense) right now. Synonyms could include “Well, isn’t that precious” or “Well, that’s different.” It often comes in clutch when you don’t want to tell someone to their face that they fucked up. Your nephew has mowed the front yard for you. He has also mowed over all your flower beds. “Well… bless your heart.” If you were going to use it as a stealth insult to someone’s face for a more egregious occasion, it would be this category. It can be a mean girl move (the classic “It’s so brave that you dress like that” vibe), but it’s also a way of saying, “I want you to know that I see what you’re doing and I don’t approve of it, and you fully understand I’m expressing that, but I’m not going to give you the justification to clap back at me because I didn’t SAY that.” Someone wears a fancy white bridal-looking gown to your cousin’s wedding: “Well, bless your heart, that sure is a dress!” (If they understand you: “What’s THAT supposed to mean?” Because they know, but they want to make you SAY it. Combat engaged.)

“Bless their heart”: I am sharing news (gossiping) about someone but I like them and I want you to understand that I do, truly, bless their heart. “It’s been so hard for her after her father passed. Bless her heart, I’m gonna make her that red velvet cake she likes.”

“Bless their heart”: I am shit talking someone and I want to cover my ass, of COURSE I am just concerned for them. “She wore white to her sister’s wedding last week! WHITE! Bless her heart, I guess some people’s children just don’t know better.” (“Well you know they say she was always after the groom—“ “NO! Bless her heart.”)

That last one is the BYH they would need to deploy (but didn’t) in the Make Some Noise clip, but I feel like it honestly wasn’t necessary because the “prayer request” already served as a cover for talking shit. It probably would have come out if they’d been allowed to keep the skit going and they needed plausible deniability for spilling juicier details that maybe Jesus didn’t actually need to hear about. Thank you for coming to my Performing Southernness While Being Neurodivergent talk.

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.

being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.

he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.

rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.

your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.

“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.

“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.

he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.

“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”

“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.

“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”

he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”

“…that was the only part, rafe,”

“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”

“no one’s perfect,” you counter.

“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.

“nothing, rafe,”

“nothing?”

“mhm.”

he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”

“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”

“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.

but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.

[smileysuh]

deal maker

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, pussy eating, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, dry humping, foreplay, slight corruption kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.7k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, Halloween, supernatural/demon au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  Happy Halloween!

One: her

If it weren’t for the fact that you’re in the middle of a library, you might just scream. You know your workload increases with each year you’re in university, but there’s something sinister about the amount of book-related essays you have right before Halloween.

You’re doing your best to focus, and you’ve read the entirety of the ‘Frankenstein’ book that you’re supposed to be analyzing, but you just can’t find words.

A massive sigh escapes you, and your best friend, Hwasa, casts you a sideways glance. “You good, babes?” she asks.

“I just- I can’t do this,” you groan. “It’s a completely open ended prompt- I could write about anything I want to, and all things considered, five thousand words isn’t the longest essay ever- but, damn, I seriously can’t think right now.”

She nods sympathetically. “Do you really think you’re at rock bottom on this?”

“I don’t see how I could go any lower.”

“Okay, well,” she scoots her chair closer to you, her voice lowering, “i wouldn’t suggest this otherwise, but uh- have you ever thought about contacting the Sigma Veta Tau demon?”

“The what?” you stare at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about him, you’re a goody goody,” Hwasa sighs. “Basically, there’s this guy in the SVT frat who makes deals and does your work for you.”

“What’s this have to do with being a demon?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a weird myth- basically, this guy helped me with an essay last year worth thirty percent of my grade. All he asked for was a family heirloom, and I think it’s his weird choice of price for favours that get him the whole ‘demon’ thing cuz he doesn’t usually ask for money like other dudes who write your papers would.”

“How did you do? On the essay?” you ask.

“Got an A. He doesn’t overdo it, he does enough to get you a good grade but not so good it’s obvious you didn’t do the work.”

“So… is he an actual demon, or?” You cock your head to the side, trying to understand the whole demon relevance.

“Nah, like I said, he’s just some hot nerd who wrote my essay. It wasn’t sketchy at all.”

“And he does this for a lot of people?”

“I’ve heard about a few. I know his friend Dokyeom was close to failing his Kinesiology course and somehow Wonwoo did his final exam for him and helped him pass.”

You let out a small laugh. You’re familiar with the Sigma Veta Tau frat, and DK is a well known figure there- getting someone to help him pass Kinesiology is very characteristic to the loud gym bro. “Wait, but, how did Wonwoo pull it off? They ID you at the final exams, don’t they?”

Hwasa shrugs. “I guess the dude pulls off miracles every once in a blue moon, maybe that’s part of his ‘demonic’ reputation.”

“Are we sure this a good idea?” you ask.

“Making a deal with the Devil?” Hwasa clarifies. “Of course, what could go wrong?”

You laugh at her choice of words. 

This Wonwoo guy definitely isn’t the Devil… and even if he was, what would making a deal with him even really include? 

You’re skeptical to say the least, but looking back at your worn out book, and your laptop document open with zero words- you begin to wonder if maybe this Wonwoo guy is a good way to solve your current predicament. 

Two:

Wonwoo quite enjoys living on campus. He loves the onslaught to his senses every time he’s out and about, mingling with university kids who have way too much on their plate. No one ever notices him, no one ever notices the things that are slightly… off about him, they’re much too busy focusing on this week’s term paper, or this week’s quiz.

No, Wonwoo’s extremely happy being exactly where he is. He’s lounging in a coffee shop that connects to the book store, his eyes darting from person to person, assessing-

That’s when his gaze locks with someone familiar.

Hwasa had come to him last year, needing an essay completed. It had been one of Wonwoo’s easier tasks, as he’s read the source material upwards of twenty times in his long life. He’s seen her around campus a few times since then, but she’s never approached him, not the way she is now.

“Hi, Wonwoo!” Hwasa grins, demenour as bubbly as ever. 

The frat boy simply nods, his gaze turning to assess you as you stand next to your friend.

“This is y/n,” Hwasa introduces you. “She’s actually struggling with an essay right now-”

“Hate to hear about an academic struggle,” Wonwoo interrupts, “especially while enjoying my coffee.” His eyes return to you again. “If you ever need a tutor, you should swing by the frat.”

“I would appreciate that,” you nod, a little breathless.

It’s clear there’s something off about you too- your heard rate is going faster than the average rate, and you’re finding it difficult to meet his gaze. 

Ah, things click in Wonwoo’s head, this particular set of responses isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. Many girls react this way to him, getting ‘flustered,’ as humans would say.

However, what is unfamiliar, is the way Wonwoo himself is reacting to it. He finds it cute, endearing in a way- as opposed to the annoyed feeling he usually gets when women are easily infatuated with him.

“Here,” Wonwoo breathes smoothly, picking up a pen from his notepad. “Give me your hand.”

Your gaze flickers to Hwasa for a moment, and then you’re reaching forward. Wonwoo grasps your wrist, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the way you jolt from his touch. He quickly writes his phone number down on your inner palm. “Give me a call about tutoring you sometime, we can discuss details then.”

“O-okay,” you nod, immediately taking your hand back when he’s finished, cradling it close to your chest.

“If that’s all you two have to say to me,” Wonwoo breathes, looking between you and Hwasa, “I’d love to get back to my coffee.”

Three:

“Hey, I’m at the frat, where are you?” you ask as you answer your best friend’s call. You feel so awkward just standing here, trying to look like you belong even though you’re sure you stand out in the all boys frat village.

“Babes, I’m so sorry- I’m at this study group and it’s going mega late, I didn’t even realize the time and I’m across campus-”

You let out a sigh. “Are you seriously going to make me do this alone?”

“You’ll be fine!” Hwasa assures you. “Wonwoo won’t bite, it’s the daylight after all.”

She giggles, and you roll your eyes. You’re still not sure how you feel about this whole ‘demon’ thing, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid to enter a fratboy den of wolves alone.

“You’ve got this,” Hwasa says again. “If you need anything, just text me, and remember, I stalk your snapchat location so if anything happens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh. “Okay, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You hang up on Hwasa, taking a deep breath and turning to the front door. You approach cautiously, raising your hand and knocking three times.

It takes a couple of moments, but eventually, a man opens the door. You recougnize Jeonghan, he’s the frat president’s right hand man, a business major with a reputation for hitting on every girl he meets.

“Well, look who it is,” Jeonghan grins, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder while he shovels some cereal into his mouth from the bowl in his hand.

He’s in an oversized white shirt and sweatpants, you’d bet he hasn’t been to classes today- and fuck it, he looks handsome, all the SVT men do.

“Sorry, hi, I’m here for Wonwoo, but I don’t think we’ve actually met,” you say awkwardly, holding out a hand.

Jeonghan’s gaze falls to your extended palm, and he chuckles. “Wonwoo gets all the cute girls,” he says, moving away from the door frame to let you inside, “but none of them ever stick around.”

“I’m here to study,” you try to explain.

“Sure you are,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. You follow him through the entryway living space, pausing as he heads back into the connected kitchen. “Wonwoo’s room is the third floor, first door on the left.” You stand there for a few moments, and Jeonghan cocks his head to the side. “You have no clue where the stairs are, do you?” 

“Nope.”

“That door,” he points with his spoon. “Don’t get lost.”

He’s a bit of an odd one, and with a final thank you, you scurry away, following his directions past a door and up three flights of stairs. You pause outside the first room on the left, swallowing thickly before you knock.

“Come in!” Wonwoo’s voice calls out. 

Before you can push the door open, it opens by itself, and you half expect Wonwoo to be standing there- only to find him seated on his bed with a book in his hands.

He’s in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. His hood is up, but his dark curls are poking out, toying with the rims of glasses that set of the sharp angles of his face. 

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Uh-” you cough. “Y/N.” The door opening by itself had freaked you out, and you wonder how true the whole demon thing is- God, that’s been on your mind a lot.

“Come in, relax, and tell me what I can do for you,” he instructs, using his foot to push out a chair near his bed. 

You swallow thickly again, closing the door behind you and approaching. You take a seat, letting out a breath. “So basically I have an essay on Frankenstein- have you read it?”

“Of course. Have you?” he counters.

“Yeah, I’ve read it, but uh… anyways, it’s due on Halloween, which is two weeks away, and I have so many other essays to write-”

“What’s the topic?”

“Open ended.”

“How many words?”

“Five thousand.”

“That doesn’t seem very hard,” he muses with a grin, slotting a marker between his pages so he can rest his book on his chest, getting a better look at you.

“Usually it wouldn’t be, but I’m just blanking- I don’t even know where to start.” You release a stressed breath. “So I brought a family heirloom.”

Wonwoo just looks at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Hwasa said she paid you last time with her grandmothe’rs broach?” you try to explain.

“My price is different for everyone,” Wonwoo tells you, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what you brought.”

“It’s my aunt’s.” You give the necklace to him. “She got it to me to celebrate graduating highschool and getting into university.”

Wonwoo inspects the delicate silver chain, looking at the crescent moon charm with an opal in the middle. “It’s obviously valuable,” he says, handing it back to you, “but I can tell it’s not very sentimental.”

“So…” you fidget with the necklace in your palm, “what do you want?”

Wonwoo’s eyes begin to scan your form, and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable. It’s as if he’s undressing you in his mind, and it makes you fidget in your seat. His gaze lands on your chest, and you fight the urge to cover your tits-

He sits up, reaching forward- You hold your breath as his fingers brush by your collar bones, too close to the swell of your breasts for your liking- and then he’s lifting your necklace, leaning even closer to inspect it.

You can feel his breath on your skin, and he’s so close- God, why is something as simple as this so erotic? You’ve dealt with pretty boys before, but there’s something about a pretty, nerdy, dangerous boy- 

“Where did you get this?” he asks, thumb smoothing across the golden heart attached to the chain on your neck.

It’s hard to find your voice, but after a moment, you’re able to respond. “It was uh- it was from my last boyfriend.”

“An ex?” His gaze lifts to you.

“Yeah.” You can feel your skin heating.

“And you didn’t get rid of it?”

“I figure I bought him a bunch of stuff while we were dating, pretty sure this was only fifty bucks or something, so I guess I thought I deserved to keep it.”

Wonwoo nods. You watch his gaze dip to your lips, just for a moment, and then he’s releasing your necklace and leaning back into his bed again. “That will work.”

“It will?” you ask in shock.

“Uh huh. There’s a certain sort of sentimentality to it. Also… even though you say you kept it because you deserved it, buying him so many things or whatever, I think it’s a shame that a pretty girl like you is still holding onto something from the past, instead of looking at your future. I’ll take it off your hands, and you can progress now, with more than just your essay.”

You wonder what sort of motive Wonwoo has, what significance a necklace from your ex actually has on a man who’s practically a stranger.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching behind your throat to undo the clasp. “So… how does this work now?”

“A five thousand word open ended essay on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” Wonwoo takes his glasses off, wiping them with his hoodie. “I guess, you give me some time to think it through, I text you, and you come see me again.”

You watch the way he puts his spectacles back onto his face- it’s shocking how small, simple, mundane motions can be so beautiful when completed by a man like him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I guess… I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You will,” he agrees. “Bye for now.”

He relaxes against his pillows, lifting his book and immediately turning his attention to it.

You stand up and leave without another word, your heart racing in your chest.

Once you’re outside the frat house, you call Hwasa. 

“So how did it go?” she asks. “He didn’t kill you, so that’s good news!”

“He also didn’t want the family heirloom,” you sigh.

“So what did he want?”

“My necklace, you know, the one from my ex.”

“That’s weird, why would he want that?”

“Hell if I know,” you groan. “Hwasa… he’s not an actual demon, right?”

“Of course not!” she laughs.

You wish you were as certain as she is. There’s definitely something otherworldly about Jeon Wonwoo, and one of these days, you’re going to put your finger on exactly what is different about him from any other man you’ve ever met. 

Four:

Wonwoo is standing by his window, examining the necklace in his hand. It’s such a simple little thing, but there’s so much energy tied to it. Wonwoo can see the dark aura- a tie to a past that it’s clear you’d rather forget.

Usually, Wonwoo collects items with soul ties. Family heirlooms are the easiest, as they’re connected to multiple people in different generations. When one of those people with a soul connection to the item dies, Wonwoo deams if they’re a worthy enough spirit to take as payment for his favours.

In Hwasa’s case, both of her grandparents had died recently. The grandmother had gone first, followed quickly by the grandfather, and it was the older male that Wonwoo had chosen to take for himself. His soul had been dark, a signifier of the evil in his heart when he’d been on earth.

For a demon, Wonwoo actually likes humans. He only accepts contracts that allow him to collect on bad souls, souls that he deems worthy of eternal damnation. 

Many of his kind have asked him why he’d chosen a university to call home, and in simple terms, it’s because at heart, Wonwoo has an erudite flecked soul. He loves learning, more than he’s ever loved being a demon.

He got to a point in his life where he figured, if he was going to be around forever, he might as well learn everything.

Besides all that, university is easy, students come to him, he hardly had to do any work. Students are always anxious, always busy and in need of support to get work done. They hardly think of the heirloom they pawned off to a frat boy in return for an essay or a test- and since Wonwoo waits for natural deaths to collect the souls tied to the items, there’s no harm no fowl.

With all of this being said, Wonwoo’s not used to taking an item like yours. There are only two souls tied to it, your own, and your ex boyfriend’s… Wonwoo knows which one he’ll collect.

He’s not sure why he feels protective of you… there’s just something in your aura that calls to him, something he can’t explain. 

He knows that this job will be different, in more ways than one, but something inside of Wonwoo is ready for the change, after all,  it’s been a very long time coming.

Five:

“You’re back,” Jeonghan muses when he opens the door to the frat for you. “That’s a first.”

“Hi,” you say meekly, forcing a smile. You’re still not sure how you feel about any of this, and knowing that what Wonwoo’s doing with you is unusual doesn’t help ease your anxieties.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Jeonghan sighs, opening the door wider so you can pass. As you move by him, a hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “He’s never cooked for anyone, so, just keep that in mind.”

God, these men are so odd-

You find Wonwoo in the kitchen, his back to you. He’s in a black t-shirt and it stretches tight across his broad shoulders. His curls are a little messy, as if he’s been sleeping, and when he turns to you, you find he’s not wearing his glasses.

Why is he just as pretty without glasses as he is with glasses?

This feels unfair. This feels like- well, it shouldn’t be legal, for starters.

“Hey.” Wonwoo flashes you a smile and you just about melt. You can feel your skin heating, and you hate how your body betrays you, betrays the inner lustings that take over every time you look at this nerdy hot frat boy.

“Hi,” you respond, feeling like a complete idiot as you approach Wonwoo.

“You hungry?” He looks down at the pan in front of him. “I’ve been making steak and eggs.”

“Actually, I’m really just here about the essay,” you try to explain.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo focuses on the sunny side up egg he’s making, “Give me one sec.”

You watch him finish up his meal. You’re not used to watching a man cook, and you're surprised at how skilled he is. There’s something very attractive about the way he shovels the egg out of the pan, adding it to his plate with the finished steak. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Wonwoo leads you back up to his room. He takes a seat at his work table. “You can go on the bed,” he suggests, cutting open an egg. You watch the orange yolk drip, the way he scoops some up with steak.

He’s way too attractive. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” he asks. “It’s perfectly medium rare.”

“A little too rare for me,” you admit, immediately realizing your mistake. “It looks amazing, sorry, I’m just not hungry.” 

“Sounds good. So let's talk your essay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to write it for you.”

“What?” It feels like the air is knocked out of your chest, and you stare at Wonwoo in confusion. “But uh… you took my necklace, and you wrote Hwasa’s essay-”

“It’s busy season.” Wonwoo waves his fork around absentmindedly. “The deal is, you come here, we work together, and when you need help, I’ll help. When you need a final edit, I’ll final edit.”

“Uh…” Your mind is spinning. “If you’re not going to help, I can really just do it myself.”

“I think we both know my help will be important,” Wonwoo points out. “Look, you’re a good girl. Don’t you want to feel like you did it yourself? When you came here the first time, I noticed you were hesitant, I don’t think this is something you’re used to doing.”

“I’m not,” you admit, shocked at his ability to read you. 

“With a five thousand word count, this will only take two or three hard study sessions top, in fact, since I have my steak and eggs, we can start now.”

“I didn’t even bring my book-”

“I’ve got a copy right here.” Wonwoo spins his chair, reaching for his bookshelf. He pulls out a worn version of Frankenstein, handing it to you. “I’ve got notes in here, if you want to flip through it, I’m sure you’ll find something to inspire your essay.”

You take a deep breath.

Should you do this? Should you sit here and study with him? What was the point of giving him your necklace if he’s not going to write it for you?

“You’ll keep me on track?” you ask.

Wonwoo offers you a lopsided grin. “Uh huh.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Six:

It’s your second session with Wonwoo. You’ve been carrying his version of Frankenstein around like a bible- the notes, carefully hand written into the margins, are so insightful and inspiring. At this point, you’ve reread the whole book just to get a chance to understand Wonwoo’s musings on every page.

You feel alight with determination, and your thoughts feel focused- you’re as focused with Wonwoo as you’ve ever been, which feels odd given how distracting he is.

It’s intimate in a way, to be so close to him, doing your own work while sharing a space-

Your phone buzzes, breaking your concentration.

Wonwoo looks up at you, pausing his reading. “Who’s that, your boyfriend?”

You let out a small laugh. “Just Hwasa checking in on me to make sure I’m okay with our tutoring session, you’ve got a reputation you know.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo grins, resting his book on his abdomen. 

“Uh huh, people say you’re a demon or something. Apparently coming here for help with school is a deal with the devil.” 

Wonwoo laughs. “That’s definitely a theory. What do you think?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite sure,” you admit. “All I know is, you’re helping me with this essay, and that’s what matters.”

“You know how you can check if I’m a demon?” Wonwoo asks.

“How?”

“Come touch my head, see if there are any horns.” 

Wonwoo is giving you a challenging look, and for some reason, you can’t resist.

You put your laptop to the side, sitting up. “Really?”

“Like I said, only one way to find out if I’m a demon.”

You move toward him, standing off the bed to approach where he’s seated at his desk. “Honestly… maybe this isn’t the best idea. I trust you, I don’t have to feel your head for horns.”

“I really wish you would though,” Wonwoo counters, and there’s a serious edge to his tone. His eyes are bright, looking up at you. It’s like you’re suspended in time and space, staring at each other, holding your breaths.

You reach toward his head, in the back of your mind, you’re worried he might bite you- but Wonwoo stays perfectly still. He watches your every movement, and soon, your fingers are smoothing through his curls.

Wonwoo holds back a groan at the feeling of your touch. He wants to lean in toward you, but doesn’t want to scare you off. It’s clear to him from your body language that you’re as hesitant about this as you had been when you’d first come to him for help with your essay.

You’re so soft, so pure, and he loves it.

He can hear your heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you smooth around his head, searching for horns.

God, humans are so gullible, but it’s adorable when it’s you being this way.

“Okay, no horns,” you confirm, tearing your hand back like you’ve just been burned.

You turn away, returning to his bed, and Wonwoo can practically feel the heat coming off of you. 

“Get back to work,” he says softly, loving the way he gets to sneak looks at you while you’re deep in thought. 

This arrangement is too perfect- Wonwoo hates that it will soon be coming to an end. You’ve been very productive, and as much as he’d like to take credit for it, it’s your own doing.

In some odd way, he’s proud of you, and it’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced before. 

Seven:

You can’t believe it’s your final session with your ‘tutor’. The amount you’ve gotten done in two separate days with Wonwoo is ridiculous- 

He’s your lucky charm, and it’s odd how much someone can come to mean to you in such a short time.

“Okay,” you sigh, finishing your last line of work. “I’m done.”

“Time for edits then,” Wonwoo responds, slotting a bookmark into what he’s reading before descarding the novel on his sidetable. He approaches you, sitting onto the bed. He’s so close that you can feel his shoulder against yours. He’s so warm, in the best of ways.

He’s reading over your shoulder, and you can feel his breath on your skin. God, this closeness is doing something to you- your pussy is actually beginning to throb, and it’s becoming uncomfortable. 

“Here.” You hand your laptop over to him, watching anxiously as he begins to read your essay from the top.

You’re so focused on him- each second feels like an eternity as he makes his way through your writing, discussing small edits with you as he goes through it. 

“This is good,” Wonwoo muses, making it all the way to the end. “You did really well, and with two days to spare. I’m proud of you.”

“Guess I don’t have to be stressed for Halloween,” you grin, releasing a deep breath.

“Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, if nothing else, we throw a great frat party, you’re more than welcome to come.”

“You know what?” You stretch your arms above your head, releasing a deep breath. “I might just stop by.” 

Eight:

Wonwoo’s walking through campus when he senses something- and that something can only ever be you. He’s become accustomed to your aura, and his gaze immediately finds you, heading across the green with a friend by your side.

Your eyes meet, and Wonwoo flashes you a smile, not expecting anything to come of it.

He’s surprised when you approach, calling his name. “Wonwoo! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hey,” he grins, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. He wishes he could be more subtle about his attraction to you, but by the way you take him in, it’s clear that it’s not something that’s one sided. 

“Yeji, this is the tutor I was telling you about! He helped me finish my essay in three sessions.”

“It was really more like two,” Wonwoo corrects you, then his eyes find your friend. “She did all the work, believe me.”

“Yeah, after I read your notes on the book,” you grin. “He’s not even an English major, but he picks up more details in novels than I ever could.”

Wonwoo’s not used to compliments like this, especially not from pretty girls. Most just accept his work and figure their payment was a job well done enough. He doesn’t even know how to respond, and for a demon of his age, this sort of thing never happens.

You’re so pure and sweet- God, he likes you so much. But there’s something beneath the attraction, there’s a want- a want to corrupt you, a want to see how far you’ll go for him, how dirty you’ll be just for him. 

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, finding a way to divert the attention away from himself.

You and Yeji exchange a look, and it’s your friend who nods. “We’ll be there.” 

Nine:

You don’t go to frats often, but your attraction to Wonwoo drives you through the front doors of the packed house. Everyone is dressed accordingly, and you take a moment just to appreciate the ambiance. Sure, it’s sweaty, and overwhelming, and the flashing lights are a bit much, but it feels like a community, in some sort of odd way.

You’re heading through the crowd of bodies with Hwasa when someone grabs your arm, and you’re shocked to find Jeonghan standing there. He’s dressed as a zombie of some sort, and despite the fake grime on his face, he’s still very handsome.

“Hey, repeat offender,” he grins, leaning close so you can hear him over the loud music.

“Repeat offender?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re Wonwoo’s chick now, our little repeat offender.” He’s charming, in an interesting sort of way. “Bet you’re looking for him.”

“Is he around?”

“He’s the dickhead in the oni mask, making a drink in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow Jeonghan’s directions, approaching the kitchen. It’s as full of bodies as you’ve ever seen it, but despite that, finding Wonwoo is easy.

He’s tall, and even with his back to you, you’d recougnize his shoulders anywhere.

“So how are you doing this?” Hwasa asks.

“I’m just going to go talk to him.”

“Do you need backup?”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo again, and you find a smile appearing on your face. “Honestly, I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need anything, just scream ‘hamburger’.”

“Why?”

“It’s my safe word,” Hwasa teases, flashing you a wink before she disappears into the crowd of people dancing.

You take a deep breath, mustering your courage to approach the hot nerd. 

You move toward him slowly, coming to a stop at his side. You don’t even have to say anything, he notices you immediately, turning to assess you.

His handsome face is covered with an oni mask, and it’s a little more frightening than you’d been anticipating, especially with his wild dark curls. Oni are Japanese demons, it has horns and fangs-

“Hi,” he says, and you can hardly hear him from under the mask.

“You’re really leaning into the whole demon thing, aren’t you?” you force a laugh. 

You hear Wonwoo chuckle, and then he’s pulling the oni mask off. “Are you more comfortable now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Actually, I think I’d also be more comfortable with a drink.”

“How much have you had already?”

“Just had a bit of a pre with Hwasa, why?”

“I guess…” he faces you, crossing his large arms over his broad chest, “when I make a move on you tonight, since our arrangement is done, I want to make sure you reciprocate, sound of mind.”

You look up at him in shock, unable to find any words with which to respond.

Wonwoo grins when you remain dumbfounded for a few seconds. “You’re cute.”

“I am?”

“More than you realize.”

“And you’re… you’re going to make a move on me?” 

“Was thinking about it.”

“What would the move look like?”

“Should I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?” 

God, why is he so hot? Why does he always know what to say? And why does his smirk look extra sexy with his slightly pointed canines? Why haven’t you realized his teeth were pointy before? You suppose he doesn’t smile enough for you to have picked up on details, but now, you’re looking at him, unhindered by shyness and limits of a tutor/semi-student relationship.

Wonwoo pulls you closer by your hips, staring down at you. “I’m going to need a verbal answer, Sweetheart.”

“Show me,” you tell him.

Wonwoo’s grin widens, and one of his hands moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone, and it’s such a loving motion- it’s as if the entire frat party disappears around you. You’re so focused on him that you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo moves closer, and you an feel his breath on your face. His lips are incredibly close, so close you could kiss him yourself- but you stay frozen, waiting on him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks teasingly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

He chuckles, and then, he presses his lips to your own, cradling you even closer with the hand on your cheek. His other palm finds the small of your back, tugging you to his chest. You find your grip going to his shoulders, exploring the muscles you’ve been thirsting over.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open wider to accept him in, a small groan slipping out of you.

God, he’s such a good kisser- you’re completely lost in him.

In the periphery, music is thrumming through you, but it’s muffled, disappearing as you fall deeper under the spell of Wonwoo’s kiss.

Things are getting hot and heavy fast, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed that you’re making out with Wonwoo while surrounded by people, besides, something tells you they won’t care.

You can feel something on your lower abdomen, a pressure- and you realize that just kissing you has made Wonwoo hard in his jeans.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on that you can hardly breathe. You break the kiss, gasping. “Your room?”

“Not right now,” comes his immediate response.

“What?” You can’t help the way you feel crushed at the rejection-

“Not with the party,” Wonwoo clarifies. “I want to take my time with you, want you to be comfortable- having people fucking around outside my room while I’m exploring you isn’t my idea of a great first time.”

“That actually makes sense,” you concede.

“But… I’m okay to keep doing this,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then his mouth begins to move down to your throat, his tongue tasting your sweet spot. 

You release a moan, wrapping your arms around the tall nerd. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.”

Ten:

Wonwoo carefully walks to the kitchen, avoiding spilled liquor on the floor from the party the night before. He’s so focused on his footsteps that he almost doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s aura until he’s right next to him.

The frat boy is sitting on the kitchen counter, eating his cereal. “So…” Jeonghan muses with a grin, “that girl, huh?”

“What girl?” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “The one you were making out with at the party for hours. You know, the one that keeps coming here for ‘tutoring.’”

“I helped her with an essay.”

“Sure you did.” Jeonghan pushes off the kitchen counter. “It’s cute, our resident demon has a heart.”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing that Jeonghan might be onto something, but he’ll never admit it out loud. “No, I don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Eleven:

“Well look who it is,” Jeonghan grins as he opens the door to the frat. You wonder why it’s always him, why no one else is ever hanging around the living room, but you decide it’s best not to dwell on it.

“Hi,” you smile softly.

“Guessing you know where to go,” Jeonghan muses, opening the door wider so you can enter.

With one more nod to the frat boy, you make your way to Wonwoo’s room.

You knock on the door, and like the very first time you’d been here, it swings open with ease. Wonwoo’s sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He’s wearing his glasses, and he looks so sexy like this, so domestic-

“Happy November,” Wonwoo says. 

You laugh. “Happy November.” You close the door behind yourself, standing there awkwardly. You know what you’re here for, know what you want from him now that your essay is complete- “You’re not practicing, you know, No Nut November, or anything, are you?”

Wonwoo laughs, setting his book down on his bedside table along with his glasses. “No, I’m not practicing No Nut November.”

“Good.”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Get over here.”

You make your way to the bed, sitting carefully next to him. “What were you reading?”

“Dante’s Inferno,” he responds casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be reading poetry from the thirteen hundreds. 

“Wow,” you laugh, “that definitely pushes the whole demon angle.”

“I’m a deal maker, Sweetheart, the whole demon thing is overdone.” He wraps his arm around you, prompting you to cuddle up to his chest.

“And yet, your door opens on its own,” you point out. 

“And?”

“As crazy as this sounds…” you take a deep breath, “I guess I’m wondering if there’s any… legitimacy to the whole demon thing.”

“How would you feel if there was?” he counters.

“I suppose I wouldn’t believe it, not really.”

“Then what’s the point in asking?”

“Maybe there’s no point.” You look up at him, marveling at his handsome features.

“So kiss me and forget about it,” he prompts, his fingers finding the bottom of your chin and making you look up at him. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, closing the gap between your lips. 

He holds you tighter as your lips mesh, half pulling you onto his chest as his tongue explores your own. God, he still feels so good- part of you had wondered if you’d been a little tipsy the last time you kissed him, and that’s why it had felt so good- but no, this is just Wonwoo, this is just the power he has over you.

You adjust so you’re straddling him, his hands finding your hips to encourage you while you cup his face, enjoying the feeling.

You begin to wiggle, grinding down softly onto him. His cock is already hardening in his sweatpants- you love how easy it is to turn him on. It does wonders for your ego as you dry hump him, beginning to moan at the sensation on your clit.

You’re not usually this type of person, not the mega-sexual, but something about Wonwoo is making you feral. It helps that you both know why you’re here- helps that he’d rescheduled this fuck session so you wouldn’t be having your first time with a wild Halloween rager just outside his door.

Things are just comfortable with him, it’s clear you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and that turns you on even more.

One of his hands begins to glide up from your waist, skimming the underwire of your bra. You move his palm even further up, so he’s grasping your breast, and he squeezes deliciously, earning a soft moan from your lips.

Wonwoo grins into your kiss, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you even closer as he massages your chest.

You grind harder onto his cock, loving the feeling-

One flip has Wonwoo on top of you, and you whimper at the change in power dynamics. He moves his hips fluidly, applying more pressure to your already throbbing clit-

Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, looking down at you with dark eyes. “So do I need to grab a condom, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah.” You lean closer, eagerly pressing your lips to his again. You’re so lost in him, nothing else matters.

Wonwoo’s hands begin to explore you again, and then he pulls away to tug on your shirt. “Off.”

You sit up, removing the fabric, exposing your bra to him.

Wonwoo looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so pretty, Sweetheart.” His fingers tease the strap of your bra. “How’d a pretty little thing like you ever find your way to me?”

“The essay-”

“You’re so innocent though, I could tell from the moment I met you. You wouldn’t have come to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“No, I don’t cheat.”

“And you still don’t, you did the whole essay yourself.”

“With help from you,” you blush. 

“No, Sweetheart, it was all you.” Wonwoo kisses you again, shutting up any argument you have about using his notes. 

He makes you feel so good- it’s such a safe space, and it’s the type of situation you’re not used to. The lack of judgement, the complete support- it helps you relax, helps you get even further lost in his kiss as you make out, the both of you wriggling and grinding against each other. You love the feeling of his body, the feeling of being here with him, completely enraptured mind and soul.

Wonwoo’s lips trail down to your throat, and he begins to descend. He reaches your chest, and you breathe heavily, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

His fingers hook in the cup of your bra, and he pauses to look up at you, as if he’s asking for your permission. “Do it,” you tell him, trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo grins, pulling your bra down so he can access your tits fully. His tongue flicks at your sensitive nipple, and you groan at the sensation, arching your back to push your chest closer to his face.

Wonwoo’s lips suction around the sensitive bud next, and God, it feels amazing. 

Your pussy is practically throbbing- can women cum from breast stimulus alone? You might find out if he keeps this up.

His hands cup your tits, pushing them together, and then he begins to lick at both of your nipples, switching from one to the other in a pace that has you grabbing his hair, whimpering in desperation.

You feel like you’re on fire- you feel alive, writhing on this hot nerd’s bed. It feels dirty, but it feels so right too.

He continues on your breasts for a short while, until you’re good and needy, then he makes his way to your jeans. 

“I want you naked,” he tells you.

“Then get me naked,” you counter, still breathless.

With a wink, Wonwoo pulls your jeans down, and you work on your bra. Soon, you’re completely naked from him, and unlike other times you’ve gotten with men, you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 

This feels so right, and as Wonwoo begins kissing up your thighs, prompting your legs open, you just know that sex is never going to be the same. 

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours as he takes a lick of your pussy, and you both groan. His lips suction around your clit and your muscles spasm. He pulls away with a grin, breath hot on your aching core. “So wet already,” he muses.

“I need you,” you whimper.

“You have me,” he promises, diving back into your heat.

He doesn’t hold anything back. He eats you like you’re the most delicious fruit in the world, like your pussy juices are a nectar he needs for life itself.

You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you’re a little shocked at the speed of all of this, however, you suppose the foreplay had done a number on you as well.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, abdomen tensing.

“Cum for me,” he breathes heavily against your clit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.” 

His lips wrap around your clit again, and two more harsh sucks are all it takes to send you over the edge. You gasp desperately, entire body tensing before the moment of your release.

Hot waves of pleasure erupt over your form, all consuming. You can hardly breathe, can only gasp in ecstasy as he works you through your high.

You’re not sure how long your orgasm lasts, only that you’re out of breath and brain dead by the time Wonwoo pulls away.

You can hardly open your eyes to look up at him as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are so full of lust- and for the first time, he looks truly demonic. But you’re not scared, you’re intrigued, in the best possible way.

“Fuck me,” you tell him quietly.

Wonwoo grins, and his canines flash in the light. “You got it, Sweetheart.”

He grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it off his head to reveal chiseled chest muscles. He’s got more of a sleeper build- the kind of guy you wouldn’t expect to be muscled, except that under layers of fabric, he’s actually sculpted by the Gods.

You can hardly breathe as he pulls his sweatpants down, and you’re practically drooling by the time he gets back on top of you, his lips hot against your own.

You cup the back of his neck, kissing him desperately, wiggling your hips, eager for stimulation.

Wonwoo concedes, rutting so his cock drags through your drenched pussy lips.

Neither of you say anything, you keep lip locked as he finally pushes into you. You both release gasps of pleasure, breathing the kiss to press your foreheads together as he sheaths further inside of you.

You open your eyes, looking up at Wonwoo, who meets your gaze with a fierceness that sets your insides on fire. 

He’s so beautiful- you’d checked his head for horns, but you can almost see an outline of demonic features- you must be dreaming, must be so lost in him that you’re seeing things. You close your eyes, drawing your lips to his again as he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust his hard, the tip of his long cock kissing your cervix. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling becomes pleasurable much too quickly. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, clawing at his broad shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he tells you.

“No, your cock feels good,” you correct him.

“Agree,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “to disagree.”

You laugh, and Wonwoo groans at the way your giggle makes your muscles clench even tighter around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep breath. 

He pulls away suddenly, and he flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips to lift you into the air. He positions your knees together, so you’re in doggy, and then he pushes himself back into your aching hole.

Shit- things feel even tighter in this positon, and you claw at his bed, burying your face in his duvet as he plows into you. His grip is rough on your hips, but you don’t even care- if Wonwoo continues to give you cock like this, he could do anything he wanted to you, any position, and you wouldn’t mind.

Each snap of his hips sends the sound of skin on skin through his room, but that’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned about the fact that you can feel another orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, and your pussy is clenching even tighter around him now.

“You’re close again, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper.

“Rub your clit for me,”  he instructs. “Wanna feel it.”

You adjust, bringing your fingers to your sensitive bud. You begin to stoke yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out as he rails into you.

Wonwoo shifts, bringing one knee up so his foot is flat on the bed, giving himself better manueverabilty to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing your hips. “Make me cum.”

The knowledge that your high will set off his own makes you even more eager to please him, and you rub your clit even harder, whimpering desperately. 

Wonwoo lets out a grunt, and the sound is music to your ears. How is he so sexy? When did a man grunting become sexy? 

Fuck, you work yourself even harder, and Wonwoo matches your enthusiasm with his thrusts, his hands pulling your hips back to meet him with each motion.

“I’m close-” you tell him, your pussy gripping him so hard-

“Let go for me,” he responds. “Need to feel it.”

A few more circular motions on your clit has you exploding, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down hard on his cock. Your entire body is alight, muscles working overtime as you contract around him.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his pace faltering as he cums inside you, filling you with a warmth that makes you spasm beneath him. 

You continue to moan as he fucks you through your highs until you’re both breathless. You can feel him breathing on your back, can feel each puff-

Your own chest is heaving with effort, your eyes closed as the last inklings of euphoria sparkle through you.

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your hips gently, and neither of you have anything to say as you recuperate.

Finally, Wonwoo gently traces your spine with a finger. “I’m going to pull out,” he tells you. “Grab you a tissue.”

“Okay.” You nod against his bed, still too blurry from your orgasm to think too hard about anything.

The loss of his cock from your aching hole is one you feel everywhere, and you whimper, cupping your pussy to stop any cum from dripping onto his bed.

Wonwoo returns quickly, moving your hand so he can press tissue to your core. “Give it a sec, and when you’re ready we can put on some clothes and head to the bathroom.”

You stay on your knees for a few more seconds before mustering your energy. When you’re finally able to stand, Wonwoo helps you up. He pulls sweatpants up your legs, followed by a hoodie to cover your bare chest.

Then, he takes your hand, guiding you to the bathroom where you both clean up.

Everything is a blur until you get back to his bedroom, where you collapse onto the mattress against his chest, eyes closed.

Wonwoo’s hand smooths up and down your arm. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you respond.

“I’ve gotta tell you something.”

You can hear the seriousness in his tone, and you force your eyes open, looking up at him questioningly.

“I was going to wait-” Wonwoo admits, “it’s something I’ve never told anyone, not in so many words at least.” You wait for him to continue. “The whole demon thing… there’s some truth to it.”

“But… I checked for horns?” you say, confused.

“We don’t have horns, Sweetheart. We’re deal makers. You gave me your necklace, it has a soultie to your ex, one day, I’m going to drag that asshole to hell.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Sure you are, Wonwoo.”

“You don’t believe me,” he muses, lifting your hand so he can kiss your knuckles gently.

“I told you I wouldn’t, so what does it even matter?”

“I just wanted to start things right,” he confesses. “Wanted to do this right.” 

“This?” you counter, grinning up at him.

“Us. I want to give it a shot, if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested,” you admit. “But… I think, right now, I just need a little sleep.”

“Then sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and with a smile and a deep breath, you finding yourself drifting into the most blissful sleep of your life. Demon or not, Wonwoo makes you feel protected, and that’s not something you’ll ever take lightly.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love Wonwoo!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “You look so good like this, Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Being so good for me, so corruptible-” He has a bit of a corruption kink, but he’s never forced it on you. No, he’d shown you his toys, and allowed you to choose the pace on everything. You feel so comfortable with him, and it allows you to fully connect with yourself and your pleasure.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of sex toys, flogger, vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, breast worship, nipple clamps, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praise, soft dom Wonwoo, fingering, slight pain kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) Sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of dating Wonwoo, and you’ve realized the whole demon thing is completely real. It was an adjustment at first, but he’d explained everything about it. There are certain demons who do the darker stuff, but Wonwoo truly considers himself a deal maker above all else. He doesn’t kill, even though, with his power, he could.

No, he’s a mellow demon, if there is such a thing. 

It’s an opposites attract type of situation, and Wonwoo’s spent countless nights admiring your aura, discussing what it is exactly that makes you the light Yin to his dark Yang. He loves you for all of your differences, and you’ve never felt more comfortable with a person- or, should you say, demon.

He’s an ageless man with a thirst for knowledge, and you’re so attracted to his deep understanding of all things literate or scientific. You find yourself constantly learning new knowledge from him, and every day you spend together is a dream you never could have even wished for.

Aside from all the educational learning experiences you have with Wonwoo, you’ve also begun to explore his sexual knowledge, and it’s a journey you never thought you’d find yourself on.

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[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Happy Anniversary!

Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.

Lando Norris x fem!Reader, established relationship

WC: 4.8K

Warnings: cursing, angsty, sad fic with happy ending

Masterlist

The soft morning sunlight peeks through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft rosy glow over the room. You take a deep breath, a gentle smile settling on your face at the realisation that it’s already been a year – a year of being loved, of sharing every thought and story, of new experiences and memories... One year of being married to the love of your life. It’s hard to believe.

You turn on your side to face your husband, propping your head on your palm as you watch him sleep peacefully. Your hand is softly stroking his chest while you smile with adoration. “Good morning, baby,” you say when you notice the change in his breathing.

Lando merely grumbles, not quite awake yet. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer to his side, letting you cuddle up against his warm body. Pressing your face against his chest, you leave a few kisses along the bare skin.

Lando sighs, stretching out his body. “Good morning, darling,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile excitedly, sitting up to look at the handsome man you get to call your husband.

“Do you know what day it is?” You whisper.

Lando frowns as he wipes his tired eyes, “What day?” 

The confusion is evident in his voice. Regardless, you nod excitedly. Your smile falters as you watch the wheels turning in his head, gathering that he doesn’t remember. You move to the bedside table, rumbling through the drawer until you find what you’re searching for.

The expression on Lando’s face changes from confusion to guilt when you proudly show the present you’ve wrapped up so neatly, the realisation settling in. “Fuck. It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”

You nod, “I got you a little something, to celebrate,” you clarify. The smile on your face is gentle, comforting, and it nearly makes Lando believe you don’t care that he forgot.

“Oh, baby, I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary. God, that’s bad, isn’t it? The first year, and I’ve already screwed it up. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck.” Lando rubs a hand over his face, his expression pained.

“It’s okay, Lan. I know you’ve been busy,” you reassure him, “besides, it’s only the first year, we’ll have many more anniversaries.” You offer your gift again. “Just open the present, please? I want to know what you think of it!” You say enthusiastically.

Lando’s not fully convinced yet, “But I haven’t got anything for you,” he protests.

“Doesn’t matter, I already got this for you. Open, please!”

Lando sighs, but doesn’t resist further. However, the guilt of his forgetfulness settles deeper when he opens the carefully wrapped gift. You had taken the time and effort to make something, rather than buy a present, and he couldn’t even bother to remember your first wedding anniversary. He felt like an asshole.

At his silence, you felt the need to explain, “It’s a jar of notes,” you take the jar from his hands and open it. “It’s got different things: my favourite memories of us, things I love about you, what reminds me of you, just whatever I could think of. Then, when you’re gone for work, you can pull one out whenever you miss me,” you demonstrate, grabbing a note from the full jar, “or you could just call me, or whatever.” You put the piece of paper back, close the jar, and look up to your husband.

“Do you like it?”

Lando smiles lovingly, “I love it! Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says before kissing you softly.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make a reservation for tonight right now, we can go out to dinner together to celebrate, and if you want we can go shopping today too, I’ll buy you anything you want—” 

You cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not necessary, Lan. I know you love me. Besides, I’d much prefer to spend today at home with you, while you’re still here,” you say, stroking his face fondly before you pull him in for a kiss.

Regardless of your objections, Lando still manages to make a reservation for tonight at your favourite restaurant. He doesn’t make a single comment when you order the salmon despite his dislike for fish, and for weeks after he anticipates every single need you might have before you can utter even a syllable. He brings you the snacks he knows you love most on his way home, makes homecooked meals for you (however bad at cooking he is – he switched to take away after the first two times), and watches your favourite shows with you even though he hates them. He does anything and everything he can think of to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Unfortunately, his efforts only lasted a few weeks. Now, you knew what you were getting into when you married Lando last year. You had been in a relationship with him for several years before the wedding, so you are well aware of the time he needs to put into his work, even outside of office hours, not to mention the amount of stress and anxiety that come with racing at such a high level. That’s why it doesn’t bother you that much that your husband forgot about your anniversary; you know the pressure he’s under.

However, lately, his work has become even more time-consuming, more stressful and he’s become less attentive. It’s no surprise with how well the last races have been going – Lando’s finishing on the podium every weekend – that pressures have increased. He’s no longer fighting for only the constructor’s championship, but he has an actual chance at the driver’s championship too. The team is excited, and working hard, and the same is expected of Lando. Additionally, the fans have been putting more pressure. You know how much Lando’s affected by the stress of it all; he doesn’t want to disappoint, and now that the car’s performing, the only factor that could cause a loss, is him. The pressure, stress, and anxiety are taking over his body. He’s becoming more forgetful and instead of spending his free time with you, his wife, he’s thinking about the next race’s strategy, working out to improve his performance, or practising the tracks. Formula 1 had taken over the number one spot in his life.

You get where he’s coming from, you really do, but one of the most important things, if not the most important thing, in a relationship is communication and recently, Lando wasn’t communicating with you. He doesn’t tell you about the pressure or anxiety, all you know is from reading the man. After the number of years you’d spent together, you know him well enough to be aware of his struggles without him having to tell you.

You’d address the issue, ask him to talk to you, but you don’t when. Lando’s gone so much that you barely see him. His early mornings and early nights don’t align with your schedule; Lando’s gone before you’re properly up and has already eaten when you get home from work. The both of you have always been busy before, but at least you’d always eat together, and talk about your day. Now that those moments are missing, you feel lonely.

Lando has no clue of the things running through your mind. After all, you never told him. Even during the summer break, you keep quiet about your feelings, not wanting it to affect Lando’s performance during the races when you know how hard he's working to do well. Besides, it does get better during the break; Lando’s home more often and his mind's not as occupied with thoughts about his work. Nevertheless, he’s gone most of the time. You had expected for Lando to spend his time off with you, but instead, he hangs out with his friends.

Although the break has positively affected his behaviour, Lando's forgetfulness remains the same. You had told him about your friend’s birthday party several times during the past weeks, asking him to come along. When he promised you would, you thought things were finally going back to normal. But now, as you are waiting for your husband to come home so you can leave for the party together, you realise nothing has changed.

It’s already quarter past eight. Fifteen minutes later than you had said you would leave. You are ready to go – makeup glowing, favourite dress on, present wrapped and purse checked – when you decide you won’t wait any longer. You had given Lando plenty of chances to show his care for you and to consider you in his plans. You always visited his friends with him when he wanted you to, and he couldn’t show up for one party you asked him to come to? You leave the house, no messages sent and your phone on do-not-disturb: let him worry.

You plaster a fake smile on your face when you arrive to your friend’s house, pulling her into a hug when she opens the door. 

“Hey, girl! Happy birthday!” You say in a high-pitched voice. “I can’t believe you’re finally 25!” You continue, squeezing her tight.

“Thanks, babe,” she responds when you let each other go, looking over your shoulder. “Where’s Lando? Parking the car?”

“Uh, no, actually. He couldn’t come.” The awkward smile on your face says enough, she knows not to ask any further.

“Oh, okay. That’s too bad. I would have loved to see him. You know, congratulate him on his podiums, it’s been going well lately, no?” She walks you into the house as she speaks, turning her head to watch your reaction.

“Yeah, the team’s really improved.” Once again, the tight smile on your face is clear.

A frown forms on her face at your reaction and she’s about to ask further, whether everything is okay, when she’s interrupted.

“Hey, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? You never come to the races anymore,” Carlos tells you with a fake pout.

You look at him in surprise. You always forget that everyone in Monaco knows each other. Carlos and your friend met at the golf club and had somehow become good friends. Usually, you liked seeing him, but tonight you would’ve preferred not to see him. Not because you don’t enjoy his company, but simply because you’d rather not talk about Lando, whom he’ll undoubtedly ask about.

And so, your mask shoots up when he pulls you into a hug. “Hey, Carlos. I’m good. How’ve you been doing?”

“I’ve been doing well. You heard the news? That I’m going to Williams next year?” You nod, saying a quick “Of course, congrats!” Naturally, you heard the news; everyone had. But this conversation was already heading in the wrong direction. “Yes, glad to have found a place that will appreciate me, even if the team’s not doing the best right now. Talking about the best, Lando’s been doing so well. You must be proud of him, hm?” 

“Ah, yes, of course,” you say indifferently.

Carlos frowns at your reaction. “Everything good between you two?”

Your smile drops, apparently, you aren’t as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. “Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”

Carlos shrugs, “Just the way you react, is all. You seem kind of tense…”

You sigh, letting a silence fall for a few seconds. You might as well tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually. “You’re right. Things… haven’t been so great lately.”

Carlos frowns at your comment. “Between you and Lando, you mean? He didn’t say anything was up, he seemed fine the last time I spoke to him,” he says confusedly.

You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “I’m not surprised. He seems to be clueless to what’s been going on.”

Carlos takes a sip of his drink, “Have you talked to him about it?”

“That’s the issue. Lando’s never home, we barely speak anymore. He’s been so stressed with work that nearly all his free time is dedicated to racing. He gets up early and goes to bed before I’ve even had dinner. I’ve had no chance to talk to him.”

The frown deepens, and he breathes out a puff of air. “That’s tough.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”

“No, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Sometimes you need to get it off your chest.”

You look up at Carlos, hesitating to continue your story.

“Has the break not changed anything?” He pokes further.

Another sigh. “No, not really. Lando’s using his time off to catch up with his friends. And his forgetfulness has clearly not improved either.” 

“His forgetfulness?”

“Yeah, he forgot about the party, clearly.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes again.

“What else did he forget about?” Carlos asks with a frown.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you hesitate, “but he forgot our anniversary. I told him it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t, but it’s just that everything is adding up. I feel kind of alone in the relationship at the moment, like he doesn’t really care about me anymore. How can I think otherwise, when we barely see each other, let alone speak?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That really sucks.” 

You smile sadly, as if to say ‘it is what it is’.

“It’ll work out in the end,” you tell him. You hope. “Maybe tonight he’ll realise he forgot something important, again. Maybe that’ll make a difference.” You offer an awkward smile.

Carlos breathes in deeply, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get your mind off it, huh?” he says while directing you towards the fridge.

You nod, follow him, and accept the drink he offers you. Tonight is not about Lando, it’s about your best friend and the fact she turned 25. You are not thinking about your husband until you get home.

– – – – – 

You slam the front door of your shared apartment louder than necessary when you enter. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction when you enter the dark apartment. You switch the lights on, noticing Lando isn’t in the living room or kitchen. Did he really go to sleep not knowing where you were or who you were with? Whether you were safe or not? Lando obviously didn’t remember the birthday party or he would’ve come, yet he didn’t text you to ask you where you were? Does he truly care so little about you? Does he even love you anymore? It feels like a punch to the gut – like someone had ripped your heart out. 

The man had been basically avoiding you for weeks, barely saying a word at the moments you did see him, but at least he was still awake to see if you arrived okay. Now he doesn't even stay up to check if you get home safely anymore? Or text you to ask where you are? To say you are upset is an understatement, you feel angry and neglected at his disregard. You feel lonely instead of beloved. The lump in your throat is a painful reminder of how close you are to crying. But you don’t. 

You swallow the lump, blink a few times to get rid of the lingering tears in your eyes and go into the bedroom to take off your makeup. You lean on the counter, sniffling silently, and close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose deeply, before breathing out through your mouth. It’ll be okay. Right? 

When you enter the bedroom you stare for a minute at the man sleeping peacefully before you. It feels wrong when you climb into bed next to him, nevertheless, you do it. It’ll probably take you a while to fall asleep tonight. 

– – – – –

The situation hasn’t changed a bit when the racing season starts back up again. No matter how strained your relationship has become, you do want to say goodbye to Lando before he leaves for the next race. So, the morning he’s supposed to fly, you make sure to get up extra early. You don’t know how, but he still somehow manages to finish his breakfast before you’re even out of bed, the container already in the trash.

“Good morning,” you mumble, wiping your eyes as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen.

Lando looks up from his phone in surprise, clearly not expecting to see you awake this early. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Wanted to say goodbye,” you say as you walk closer to the kitchen island at which he’s sitting.

“There’s no need for that, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The smile on his face is sickeningly sweet, a clear contrast to the words coming out of his mouth.

You frown, “You’re leaving for a week… What do you mean, there’s no need?”

Lando sighs at your question, “Never mind, it’s kind of you to get up extra early just for me,” he smiles dismissively before getting up from his seat. “It’s time for me to go,” he says looking at his watch before grabbing his backpack and suitcase which are sitting by the door, “I’ll see you in a week.”

You’re left staring in surprise as the door slams closed. He didn’t kiss you goodbye. He always did that, even during the worst of fights. That’s your rule. Formula 1 is a dangerous sport, he could be hurt in a split second, never mind being killed. From the start of your relationship, he always kissed you before he left, just in case. You hated the thought at the start, but learned to think it was sweet; that, in case something happened, at least he kissed his girl goodbye.

You’re watching your marriage crumble before your eyes, and Lando doesn’t seem to have a clue, or pretends not to notice. This is it, you decide. This cannot go any further. As soon as he gets home, you will talk to Lando, no matter how badly it will affect his race. You can’t do this any longer.

However, somebody else is already one step ahead of you. Carlos had noticed the toll your strained marriage with Lando was taking on you, and couldn’t help confronting Lando the first second he saw him. It didn’t help either that Charles was way too curious about the relationship drama. He had been pushing Carlos to find out more to save his gossip-desperate soul after the radio silence during the break.

“Hey, Lando!” Carlos yells, jogging up to Lando and matching his pace.

“Hey, man! How are you doing? Had a nice break?” Lando asks, giving Carlos a quick hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I had fun. What about you?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. It was good to get some time off. I really needed it; finally got to see my friends again,” Lando grins while Carlos raises an eyebrow at the answer.

“What about your wife? Finally got to spend some time with her now that you didn’t have to travel so much?” Carlos asks.

Lando laughs awkwardly at his suggestive question, “You know it!”

Carlos ignores the casual response. “I actually saw Y/N last week, at a friend’s birthday party. Was surprised to see you didn’t come with her…”

A frown etches onto Lando’s face. “What birthday party?”

“I think she’s one of Y/N’s best friends, she turned 25?”

Lando’s eyes widen in realisation. “Fuck, yes, I remember now.”

“She told you about it?” Carlos asks, watching as Lando’s expression shifts from realisation to discomfort.

“Yeah… She mentioned it a couple of times,” he admits. “She didn’t tell me that she went...” 

Carlos lets him ponder it for a moment before adding, “Well, she was there. We talked for a bit, actually.”

Lando feels his stomach tighten. He tilts his head slightly. “What did she say?”

Carlos hesitates, glancing around the paddock while he weighs his options. “Uhm, she said you’ve been distant lately. That you haven’t been paying much attention to her, that you missed your anniversary…”

Lando stops walking. “She told you about that?”

“Yeah, man.” Carlos sighs. “Look, she didn’t go into too much detail, but… she sounded upset. Maybe you should make some time for her, take her out on a date or something. It seems like she feels pretty lonely.” 

Lando shifts uncomfortably, his heart sinks in his chest. “Lonely?” The word echoes in his mind, unsettling him. He knows the feeling all too well. He’s the reason his wife has been feeling lonely? The guilt settles deep within his soul as he mulls it over. He tries to laugh it off, but it feels hollow. “She knows how demanding the season has been. I’ve been swamped.”

“I’m sure she does, but… it’s more than that. She told me she feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.” The look on his face is serious as he says it.

Lando blinks, the weight of Carlos’ words sinking in. How could he have missed something so crucial? Why hadn’t Y/N said anything? More importantly, why hadn’t he noticed?”

“She thinks I don’t care about her?” He mutters to himself. His gaze is unfocused as he chews his lip, running a hand over his face out of frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He says quietly.

“There was no opportunity to tell you, she said. You're never home.”

Carlos lets out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want your marriage to be ruined. I know you love Y/N to pieces. I would be upset with myself if you guys don’t make it out together knowing I could have done something about it. That being said, I think you should talk to her.”

Lando nods absentmindedly. He didn't even consider that they might not make it out okay. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me, man.” 

As Carlos walks away, Lando is left standing there, his mind working overtime. He had been busy, yes, but surely you understood that, right? He’d been working so hard for the both of you, to secure a future for you. But… had he been neglecting you without even realising it?

The conversation with Carlos continues to replay in his head throughout the day. Maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as he thought. Maybe all those nights out with friends, all those early mornings spent focused on racing had a bigger effect than he assumed. He tries to push the thoughts away, to justify it with the pressure of the season, but it doesn’t sit right anymore.

The rest of the weekend Carlos’ words echo through his head, ‘She feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.’ Lando can barely concentrate with the guilt that’s gnawing at his conscious. 

– – – – – 

By the time Lando leaves his hotel, he has formed a plan. He has rehearsed a dozen different apologies in his head. He’ll explain what happened, that he’s been so busy with work that he didn’t notice, and he’ll say sorry and change his behaviour. And after that, all will be well.

His plan is thrown out the window as soon as he gets home and sees his wife sitting on the couch, your face pale and tired as you watch TV. The state of you makes the practised words dry on his tongue. How could he not have noticed what was happening? 

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt lonely?” 

You look up in surprise at the abrupt question cutting through the silence. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I missed you, baby’, just the sharp edge of confrontation.

“What?”

“Carlos told me you’ve been feeling lonely. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You frown at his directness, “When was I supposed to do that, Lando? You’re always gone.”

“That’s not true—” he tries to protest, but you cut him off.

“There was not one moment I could have told you, Lando! You’re always busy with work and when you’re not, your friends take up all your free time! You haven’t made any time for me in weeks, months even!” You yell.

Tears well up in your eyes at the confrontation. You had kept your frustrations to yourself for weeks and now that he finds out about your feelings he decides to yell at you for it. How else are you expected to react?

Your words hit Lando hard, each one landing like a punch. His eyes flicker with guilt. “I’ve been under so much pressure. The team needs me—this season could be my best chance at a championship, and I—”

You cut him off, your voice soft. “I know, Lando. I know how important your career is and that this is your chance, but that doesn’t mean all your time should be spent on racing. You’ve no time left for me anymore; all your energy is drained when I finally see you at the end of the day.”

“I can’t help that my job is demanding! You know that, Y/N. You’ve always known that. It takes a lot of time to improve, and the team is finally performing. It’s my chance at a championship! I can’t pass that up!”

“I get that Lando, I really do. But I’ve felt alone in this relationship for months now. I never see you, we never talk… The night of the party you didn’t even text me to ask where I was, or who I was with. You were already sleeping before I got home! Weren’t you worried at all? Or even curious to know where I was, whether I was safe? Sometimes… Sometimes, I doubt whether you still care about me – whether you still love me, because it feels like you don’t.” The tears slowly fall down your face while you say it.

That’s when it hits him – truly hits him. Lando swears he could hear his heart break. He looks at you in shock, and you can’t deny you feel a little better because of it. Had he really fucked up that bad? Do you really believe he no longer loves you, or cares about you? You are the most important person in his life. How could this have gone so far without him noticing? How could he have made the love of his life feel like she wasn’t loved? He runs a hand through his hair in distress, trying to wrap his head around your admission.

“I’ve been patient, Lando. I’ve been understanding, but you’re just never present. Not just physically, but mentally, too. I miss you.”

Lando looks at you sadly from across the room, disappointed in himself. He quickly closes the distance, reaching for your hand. His voice is soft when he speaks to you. “I do. I do love you, Y/N,” he says, caressing your face softly, pulling your chin up so your eyes meet, his teary eyes staring into your red ones. “You’re the love of my life. I care about you so much. You’re the most important to me, above anything else, and you always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me you’ll never forget that, baby.”

You sniffle, wiping away the tears that are slowly making their way down to your chin, while you nod. The sound physically pains him, his heart twisting torturously in his chest. He vows to never make you cry again.

“I’m so sorry I let it come this far, darling. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, trying to win, trying to be perfect for the team that I didn’t see what I was losing in the process.” 

You interrupt him, “I don’t need perfect, Lando. I just need you to be here. With me. Because if it keeps going like this… I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

Her words hang between them, and for the first time in weeks, Lando realises the gravity of what he stands to lose if he doesn’t make a change soon. He nods frantically. “Of course, baby. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. You say the word, and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t love you, because I do. So much. I can’t lose you, I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you ever again.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go; like you’ll walk away from him as soon as he does. You press your face into his chest, missing the feeling of him against you and his comforting scent. The last time he touched you, let alone hugged you feels like ages ago. 

“I’ll be better, I’ll make time for you, I promise,” he mumbles, his mouth grazing over your hair, as he tugs you impossibly closer into his tight embrace.

You smile faintly through your tears. “I believe you.”

[comically-callous]

Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade finding out that his gn s/o has never dated anyone else before him please?

X-Men requests YAYYYYY YAY YAY YAY YAY!!!!!!!! 🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃

Wade, Logan, Remy, and Kurt with a s/o who hasn’t dated anyone other than them!! <3

Warnings!: cursing ig, reader is referred to as pretty (I consider that gender neutral, but wanted to put it here just in case), and that’s it!

A/n: Want them all ngl 😞 If it wasn’t already clear, I’m delighted to have my first X-Men request. And I also really like this prompt (definitely not because I can relate to it. Haha, shut up). Also, requests: OPEN 💜

Wade:

He straight up thinks you’re lying when you first tell him. He even laughs because he’s convinced you’re just messing with him.

But, then he realizes you’re not laughing and he’s like “Oh, shit. Really?”

He’ll apologize for laughing and probably say some shit like “Sorry, I just didn’t realize a smoke show like you was capable of being single”

And he means it. He was fully under the impression that you’d been on more than a few dates because you’re HOT

Definitely teases you about it. “Is that why your hands were so sweaty on our first date?”

Don’t be afraid to (playfully) smack him.

Despite all of the teasing, he makes sure to let you know that it doesn’t bother him. In fact, he thinks it’s cute

He’ll say that you’re “new to dating” even if the two of you have been dating for years

Starts calling you a rookie. And he ends up saying it so much that it just becomes one of the many pet names he has for you

And, yeah. When you’re not around he’s probably giggling and kicking his feet over how he’s your first boyfriend 🤭

Logan:

When you first tell him, he just looks at you for a second, not saying anything before going “You’re serious?”

“And you decided I’d be a good first pick?” He says it like he’s teasing, but, in reality, it does confuse him a bit.

Like, wouldn’t you want someone sweet and kind for your first relationship? Not a grumpy, old guy with knife hands???

Nonetheless, he’s grateful (and even honored) to be given the title of your first boyfriend

He doesn’t make a huge deal out of it. He’ll occasionally bring it up, maybe ask a question or two about it. But, it doesn’t really change anything about your relationship.

Or, at least, that’s what you think for a while.

One night, he returns from a long mission and he crawls into bed next to you, and you think he’s just gonna immediately go to sleep like he does every time he comes back from a mission. But, then he mumbles something.

“I wish I’d had someone like you as my first.”

And before you can even process it, he’s asleep.

You ask him about it in the morning and he says he doesn’t remember saying it. You can decide whether or not you think he’s lying.

Remy:

You tell him that you want to tell him something, and he can tell you’re nervous about it.

“What’s got you so nervous, chère? You know Gambit don’t judge nobody. ‘Specially not you.”

And you confess to him that you’ve never dated anyone and he’s like. “Oh. That’s it?”

He doesn’t mean to sound apathetic. He was just expecting something bad.

He asks you to clarify what you mean by “not dating anyone before him” because he thinks he somehow misunderstood you

“You telling me no one ever tried to get with a pretty thing like you?” And then he smirks. “Or were you just ignorin’ all of ‘em till Gambit came round?”

He also teases you about it from time to time. Makes little comments about how he’s your first.

But, it’s just because he loves it.

He often thinks about how he’s the only guy who’s gotten to take you on dates and do all this romantic stuff with you

“Don’t no one else know what they missing out on….”

Kurt:

He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. He can’t.

“I’m really your first? But, how? You are so beautiful!” He’s just upfront with why he thinks it’s absurd.

He needs to hear it a few more times before he finally accepts it. And that’s when he starts getting giddy.

“I am your first lover?” He grins. “I like that, I think.”

And now everyone has to know. Sorry.

He will gladly go around and tell people that he’s your “first love” (as he likes to say). Is it usually embarrassing for you? Yes. But, it’s Kurt. So, it’s okay.

So, yeah. You definitely don’t have to worry about whether or not he minds it.

Of course, now he has to ask a bunch of questions about it too.

“So, was the first date you’ve ever had with me?” If you say yes, he smiles before asking. “Was it good?” Like he doesn’t already know the answer.

He’s just over the moon that he was the first person that you really fell in love with. And he wants you and everyone around you to know how happy he is with you.

[lillypad910]

Such a Good Girl

Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader

Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)

Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.

A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!

All Pics from Pinterest!

Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.

There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.

He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.

“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.

“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.

“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.

He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.

Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”

“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.

You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.

“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…

“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.

He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.

It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”

He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.

God, it looks so good…

“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”

You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”

You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.

Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.

“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.

He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.

And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.

“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.

You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.

You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.

You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.

He’s fucking you stupid.

“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.

He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”

He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”

You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…

You hope he did.

You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.

He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.

You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.

“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.

Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.

“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.

“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”

You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.

“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.

“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”

Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.

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