#the dead inside look actually crushed me
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sleepyminty · 8 months ago
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So the new ordeal call 2 leak and uh
Oh no
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Ooh noooooo
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OOOOOHHH NOOOOO
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months ago
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A Changed Future (1): Yandere Isekai 
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When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing you’d expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own
The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own
Instead, it’s resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for
And if it was all adding up right you’d find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true
“Look I’m sorry I yelled…I love you…I’m really hungry. Can I eat today?”
The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside their–now your basement
Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist
Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonist’s attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but that’s hearsay
In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their family’s whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children
Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents
That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellow 
Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary
finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy life 
Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome
To find that you’ve been isekai’d is jarring 
But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful
But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you
“Yeah….sure.”
Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink
Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all
“Y-you’re letting me go?”
“Yes, I won’t stop if you want to go to the police…but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”
You felt so selfish 
But you weren’t the one who imprisoned him
Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf
After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savings 
You go to their place of work where they’re in line for a promotion
“I quit.”
“E-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?”
“I know. Sorry?”
You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you
In your opinion, the protagonist didn’t deserve any of their success
They technically didn’t need it because they were stacked
Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions
“You are actually agreeing to talk with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hit your head?!”
With the knowledge from spoilers and ads you’d seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings
You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own
But in the meantime you’d do what you felt was right 
Turning their life—now your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes they’ve done
Unfortunately, though things don’t seem to want to go your way
“Please Please take me back!” 
“What?”
“You heard me! You were right you’re the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!”
“Okay?”
It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society
Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years
Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead
He tried to go back to working but he couldn’t get you out of his head
Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him
But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains
The one that fed him a hot meal 
The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs
The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do
That’s the you, he likes
And he’d much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life
“I don’t mind if you stay here if you need but I’m not keeping you trapped here. I won’t do it anymore.”
He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him
But he’ll take you up on your offer to move in with you
“Good morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job you’re getting up so much later now. You’ve got to be careful waking too late.”
“Uhm how do you know I quit my job?”
“Unless you're locking me in the basement you don’t need to know!~”
He’s like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way
Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you haven’t thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out
“Ooops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! I’m so bad, being so careless even though you’ve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?”
He’s going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away
You’re even sweeter now that he’s not locked away and that’s not helping
He’ll ultimately decide he should try it
“Hey (Y/n)?”
“Yes?”
“You still feel guilty about what you did to me right?”
“...Yes.”
“Then how about you do something for me? To make up for it?”
Even if you know you’ve done nothing wrong 
The guilt doesn’t stop you
Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers
Or rather tries to
“I just can’t seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.”
You couldn’t be sure either
Which is why you don’t protest as his actions tend to get a bit more…wild
“Like you suggested I did try going for that new job again.”
“Uh that’s good.”
“I know since you’ve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. I’d feel bad for them if you weren’t with me!”
“Right…”
“But being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.”
He treats you better than the former protagonist did 
Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there
But he wants more from you 
More Kisses
More Cuddles 
More Romance 
More Touching
More Quality time
He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again
Except this time it was related to you
“I’m Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. I’m wondering is (Y/n) home? I’ve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasn’t been going through.”
“And I’m Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if that’s alright Haruko.”
Part 2: Coming Soon
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solarmorrigan · 1 month ago
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Impulsive Thoughts: 1, Eddie: 0
For the @steddie-spooktober day 18 prompt: Candy Rated: M | Words: 534 | CW: discussion of sex | Tags: Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a tease, sometimes you gotta fellate a lollipop to get your point across y'know? Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
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Eddie has never wanted to be a lollipop so badly in his life.
Actually, he’s never wanted to be a lollipop ever in his life, but he wishes to God he could be one right now – specifically the one in Steve’s hand, because the things he’s doing to it are fucking obscene.
He’s giving the ball of artificial cherry long, slow licks before closing his lips around it and sucking, and he’s twirling the candy against his lips and licking away the sticky-sweet juice it leaves behind, and his mouth is lush and red, red, red, and Eddie can’t take it anymore.
“Steve, what the hell are you doing to that sucker?” he demands.
Steve looks over at him, eyes half-lidded and lazy, and pulls the sucker from his mouth with a little pop that makes Eddie want to squirm.
“Eating it,” Steve says drily. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”
Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it– “It looks like you’re blowing it.”
Impulsive thoughts: 1, Eddie: 0
Instead of the offense Eddie expects, though, Steve just hums. He sticks the lollipop back in his mouth, twirls it, pulls it back out.
“Does it look like I’m doing a good job?” he asks.
He gives the lollipop another broad lick, eyes locked on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.
“Uh,” Eddie says eloquently. “Yeah, I’d say the, uh… lollipop his having a pretty good time.”
Candy tucked back inside his mouth, Steve smiles at Eddie, revealing white teeth clenched gently around the stick.
“I always kind of wondered if I’d be any good at it,” he says after pulling the sucker out again. “Blowing a guy.”
Eddie stares. Is this real? Did he have a stroke? Is he dead? If he’s dead, is this heaven or hell? Steve is talking to him about blowjobs, but he’s not actively blowing Eddie, so it’s hard to say if this is a reward or a punishment.
“I mean, I’ve always liked going down on girls, and I’m pretty good at that. But I figure a guy would be a little different, right?” Steve gives the candy another thoughtful suck, eyes still boring into Eddie’s. “But it’s nice to know I have your vote of confidence.”
Eddie can’t take it anymore, he really fucking can’t. This is all either a hallucination or an elaborate invitation, but whatever it is, it has him launching himself out of his seat and over at Steve, landing on him lips first.
Steve lets out a startled noise that melts quickly into a pleased hum, and he starts kissing back almost immediately, one hand cupping the back of Eddie’s neck and pulling him even closer.
Air eventually becomes a necessity, and Eddie pulls away to take a breath and ask, “That was what you wanted me to–”
“God, yes,” Steve cuts in, pulling Eddie down for another kiss.
Eddie can taste the candy cherry on Steve’s lips, and then he’s licking it straight out of Steve’s mouth, and Steve is moaning and sucking on his tongue, and this is what it feels like to be a lollipop. Wish fucking granted.
Impulsive thoughts: 2, Eddie: probably about a million, actually.
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impactrueno · 17 days ago
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Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?
i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????
this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.
i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball
edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.
let's review their first encounter from his point of view:
you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.
after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.
someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?
"are you a ghost too?"
"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."
hold on a sec, who's even—
...well hey. it's the girl.
the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.
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target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.
"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.
"i want to get in," she says.
whoa there.
what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.
"...why?"
she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.
after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT
adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp
ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.
wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—
ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.
these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.
of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.
the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.
despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.
she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.
well well well.
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look who came crawling back.
she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.
once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.
she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.
the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.
she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.
Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.
it's showtime.
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this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.
you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.
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"shall we?"
there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.
witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.
you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.
almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"
a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.
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you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.
not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.
a long time sitting here it is, then.
movie ends, credits roll.
for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.
36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.
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jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)
in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.
AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"
so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.
lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.
...
is she alright?
i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.
much much much to think about for mr. juice.
after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.
he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.
at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.
that's nice. very sweet. good to know.
maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.
oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.
until the next time he returns.
and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.
he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!
before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.
maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?
the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.
then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."
then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.
beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.
he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.
but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?
he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.
in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.
sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.
it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you
the end
don't trick me into writing a fanfic again
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wttcsms · 3 months ago
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚ you know i'll take you there
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ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)
word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept
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Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 
The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 
When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 
One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 
“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 
So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 
“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”
“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—
—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 
(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 
Kindness will get you killed. 
The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)
Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 
“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 
“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 
“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 
“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 
Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 
He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.
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You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 
Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—
The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 
In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 
You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 
You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.
He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 
Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 
“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 
You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 
He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 
You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 
“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 
Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 
“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 
Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 
Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 
“Is he… alive?” 
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 
When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 
“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.
There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.
“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.
“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 
There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 
Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 
Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 
“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 
“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 
With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.
Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.
He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 
“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.
He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 
“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 
“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 
With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 
Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 
“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 
He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.
(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.
Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)
876 notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 10 months ago
Text
The Kissing Booth | E.M x G!N!Reader
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Cw: flufffffff, mild angst on Eddie’s part. Smooching. Reader wears lipgloss. No use of pronouns.
Wc 1.4K
Eddie could not believe this was happening to him.
“Nope, nope, no way, man. Over my dead body-“
“What my boy means is he is grateful he is not being suspended and will graciously accept his punishment of volunteering at the school fair.” Wayne looks at his nephew with a glare in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen in a very long time.
“Great, then it’s settled,” Ms. Laughlin, the guidance councillor, smiles.
It was happening. Eddie was being served the most gruesome punishment, and all because he skipped P.E. of all classes.
Eddie Munson was being forced not only to participate in the school fair but to work the kissing booth, of all things.
How on earth would he survive this? Not only would he be the laughingstock of the school, but he would also have to endure the absolute embarrassment of having no one come up to his booth, and he would also have to be forced to participate in extracurricular activities.
“Just wait until Hellfire hears about this boy,” Wayne laughs as he drives him and Eddie back to the trailer.
All Eddie could do was roll his eyes; he could never show his face again.
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“You’re not going to believe the rumour I heard today.” Nancy looks at you from over her shoulder. She is sat at your vanity.
“What?” You asked, intrigued, as you got dressed and got ready for tonight’s festivities.
“A little birdy told me that a certain someone is working the kissing booth tonight.” She smirks.
“Who?” You challenge her back.
“Who, what?” Robin walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.
“Nancy knows who is working one of the kissing booths tonight, but who’s telling me” you pout.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Robin smirks knowingly.
“Oh, not you, too! Come on, who is it!”
Robin and Nancy give one another a nod of the head before Nancy speaks.
“Eddie Munson.”
“Ha ha, very funny; you think I’m going to believe that? How gullible do you think I am?” You snort.
“No, it’s true! Shelly from the student council told me when we were working on the student paper! Instead of detention, this is his punishment, to help out at the fair tonight.” She wiggled her brows at you suggestively.
“Who else’s working it?” You try and ask casually.
Your friends knew about your crush on Eddie. It had been about a month since you confessed to one of your late-night sleepovers.
“Um, I’m not too sure what other guy, but I think Chrissy is working the girl's booth. Nancy shrugged.
“Cool…cool…” you turned to the closet, now faced with a sense of anxiety to find the perfect top.
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Eddie was actually dying on the inside. Ten minutes until his “shift” at the booth, and he wanted to book it.
Running away would solve his problems, right? He would much rather be suspended than have to endure this humiliation. This was a cruel and unusual punishment.
He watched from the sidelines as Josh was at the booth currently. He was the senior star quarterback on the football team. Everyone wanted him. He could just see now the long line disbursing once he stood there.
"Hey man, you're up next in 5." Eddie was snapped out of his internal monologue when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he had been there stewing with his own thoughts. "Don't worry, it's not all bad. Some customers are cute," Josh smirks.
Oh god. What if he actually had to kiss someone tonight? He hadn’t thought of that option. Like, what if some actually came up? What would he do? Are they expecting tongue?
“You have some gum or something?” He asked quickly before Josh left.
He smirked and tossed him a pack of icy mint.
“Thanks.”
Eddie peaked around the corner to where the booth was set up. The fair was set up on the school football field. There was a small sign that said be back in 5 and no lineup to be seen.
That made Eddie feel a bit better; no one was there. That took some humility out of it.
Before Eddie could back out and run, he felt another hard hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Munson, your time to shine.” Jeff and Gareth practically dragged Eddie to the booth, kicking and screaming.
“You’re the worst friends ever,” Eddie huffed as they backed away from the booth. Watching him so he won’t run away.
“You can't serve the time and shouldn’t do the crime.” Jeff laughed.
“That’s not-“ Eddie was cut off mid-sentence as he saw Robin and Nancy pushing you towards the booth just like he had been moments ago.
“Don’t make me do this,” you plead with your best friends.
“You have to do it,” “It’s now or never,” “He’s right there. Just have him your ticket and pucker your lisp. It’s not that hard,” Robin and Nancy whispered in your ear as they dragged you towards Eddie.
“You guys, please, I can’t!” You say a bit too loudly as you fight back your friends from pushing you up to the booth.
You can see the look on Eddie’s face as you are pushed up the step of the booth. He looks disappointed? Disgusted? You’re not too sure.
You let out an embarrassing squeal as you stumbled in front of Eddie. “Um hi”
Despite not being well-acquainted with Eddie, you couldn't help but notice him whenever he walked by. You only exchanged a few words in passing and learned about him through your friends. Although you never had the opportunity to spend time together, you found him to be irresistibly charming and incredibly good-looking. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the cafeteria, he never failed to bring a smile to your face with his silly antics and infectious laughter.
“Uh hey,” he spoke back, clearly uncomfortable.
“Busy night for you?” You ask, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Uh nope.”
“Good,” you smile; the thought of Eddie kissing anyone else made you want to vomit.
“Good?” He cocks a brow at you. “The thought of nobody wanting to come up to the freak of Hawkins High is good to you?”
“Oh I didn’t mean it like-“
“Why are you even here?”
“Oh- well- I um-"
“No, I get it. You’re just here on a dare, or you lost the bet, right? I really thought better of Nancy and Robin; I thought they were my friends… You know I heard you say you can’t do this. I understand the thought of kissing me is so terrible that-“
You couldn't help but cut off Eddei from his intrusive thoughts. You held his face with both hands and smushed your lips together. The thought of Eddie thinking that about you was far worse than the fear of kissing him.
It wasn't everything you had dreamed of. However, the kiss was still nice. You felt the eruption of butterflies fill your stomach as Eddie deepened this kiss himself. You kissed him until you could no longer breathe. Only then is when you pull away.
“Woah”
“I hope that was okay.” You shy away.
“Yeah.” Eddie sighed as he took you in.
As he gazed upon you, he was struck by how pretty you were, which he had overlooked until now. The sweet aroma of strawberries wafted from you as the strawberry lipgloss lingered on his lips, just below his nose.
“Um, here,” you jut out your hand with the crinkled ticket you hadn't yet paid with.
“Oh no, no, the house,” Eddie said without thinking and that made you giggle.
“Well, I really only bought a ticket for this, so I might as well cash it in.” you flirt.
“Ok, yeah, sure. Two for one.” Eddie took the ticket from your hand and brought it back to cup your cheek before kissing you again.
You could hear the giggles and cheers of your friends from behind you in the distance, but your main focus was on Eddie. His soft, plush lips. His minty taste, the way his soft hair tickled your cheeks.
“Ok, lovebirds, that’s enough.” the supervising teacher returned with an unimpressed huff.
You begrudgingly pulled away, but with a smile nonetheless.
“Can I get your number?” Eddie’s mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Come find us later, lover boy.” Robin giggled while snatching your arm and pulled you away before you could answer.
“Dude!” Gareth clapped his hands, having witnessed the whole thing.
“Maybe we should sign up for this,” Jeff laughed. A little jealous of what he just witnessed.
After you, Eddie didn’t care if he got another customer for the rest of the night. Maybe this whole kissing booth thing wasn’t too bad after all.
2K notes · View notes
binniesbooks · 3 months ago
Text
• MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL
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SB 000 .F23 2024
wc 3.2k
pairings classrepresentative!Soobin x bulliedfem!reader
warnings humiliation, slight bully Soobin, bullied reader, fainting, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, recording, oral sex (m. receiving), squirting, name calling (+ if i missed anything)
faye's notes I'M TOTALLY CRAZY! Like seriously! I should stop writing fics out of impulse BAHAHAHAHA this is not proofread, I'm sorry, again, this story is just made impulsively 😭 Soobin should stop posting pictures out of nowhere. I need to write about him immediately because I'm his wife. 😋 No one should do it first before me 😋 I just love Soobin so much and his mirror shots! Fuck. Dead.
p.s. wrote this for more or less 4 hours, wtf
"Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.
"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.
"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.
Soobin is your most hated person in the world, if that's enough to explain. He makes fun of you. He causes you trouble, harm, and danger. But the fact that he's one of the most respected representatives of your class, you can't do anything but let your anger just boil inside you. 
Choi Soobin is not your average type of classmate—enemy. He never fails to be included in the rank list—he's an intelligent and handsome man. He talks so well in front of the class, he gets high scores, he has the fame. You would actually have a crush on him if only he treated you the same way he treats the others.
And you hated your class for always laughing along with him and always tolerating what he does—well, he's actually a good student, you're just not on his "people that I will treat right" list.
"How are you miss 'teacher's pet'?" Soobin would subtly pull a chair to sit in front of your desk, often whispering these things.
"Soobin, please. If you have nothing else to say, move," you would firmly answer him.
"What? Aren't you proud that you know how to find your way under their pants?" he accused.
"I'm not doing any of the sort! I won't commit sexual activities with people other than my soon-to-be husband!" Your voice came out as a squeak as you tried to hold yourself back, but you're seething with anger. 
"Oh, what are you doing anyway? Drawing your idols?" he snickers.
"Choi Soobin--"
"Yes, darling?" his eyes meeting yours with a smirk plastered on his lips. "You know what," he starts, casually tucking your straying hair behind your ear, "If I were you, I would stop doing that, they don't even know you."
You clicked your tongue, swatting his hand away, "Soobin, I swear—"
"Yes, yes, you swear," he snickers once again as he stands up, the sharp scraping sound of the steel chair making your ears hurt, gathering the class' attention. Soobin casually shrugged his shoulders, making your classmates continue what they were doing.
"Listen!" Soobin pounded the podium that afternoon for an announcement—oh yeah, he's the class representative.
"We will be having our annual outdoor activity next week."
With a heavy heart, you sighed. The 5-day trip is your most hated activity. You would go to a camp, pair up with your friends, and do the task together. Not to mention the unending seminars and trainings while you're at it.
Of course, a week won't pass by without Soobin getting into your nerves. You're so fed up with him and his petty attitude towards you, but you don't know it yourself, you just can't find the courage to fight back or at least stand up for yourself. You would always be left with your nails digging into your palms and a boiling blood. 
"Okay guys! Line up! We're getting into the bus! I'm checking the attendance!" It's still so early in the morning and you get to hear his irritating voice again, which you resorted to wearing earphones to at least drown his voice.
However, you were the last one to get in inside the bus, so there are no more available seats to sit down aside from the two-seater in the front. And of course, one of the seats is already occupied. By who? Who else—the Choi Soobin himself.
"Excuse me, does anyone want to trade seats?" you bargained. Only for them to answer with "sorry, I want to sit with my friend" and such. 
"As much as you don't want to sit beside me, I don't want to sit beside a whore and a slut like you," Soobin whispered with a fake smile when you sat beside him. 
"Shut the fuck up. I'm not a whore nor a slut, I don't do explicit activities just like you," you seethed. "I bet you're the type that fucks anyone just to get your dick wet," you whispered, rolling your eyes. Soobin could only laugh at you.
You tried to focus on the road the whole ride. Doing your best to ignore Soobin's huge sleeping figure just beside you. Your eyes flitted to the rearview mirror of the bus, staring a hole at Soobin's head—to kill him—through the reflection. And yes, Soobin actually looks kind and peaceful when he sleeps. There, you silently wished for him to at least be a little less meaner. 
You didn't know you fell asleep. You woke up inside the empty bus. You quickly marched out to look for your classmates. It looks like they are just starting to settle down. You scrambled your way towards the camp, pulling your suitcase. You're lucky one of your male classmates noticed you and had at least the decency to offer a hand. 
When you arrived just by the door, you swear you heard Soobin murmur something behind you like 'look at our pick me girl' or something along the lines. 
After the short orientation, you celebrated a little inside, knowing that the girls and the boys would not share the same room to sleep, at least. And you celebrated further when they announced that the ratio of the room to the student would be 1:1. Basically, you have the privacy you needed, and you don't need to be bothered about having a roommate. 
You were asked to rest for now and just return to the hall in the afternoon to officially start the program. You giggled when you got inside the room. Quickly running to the bedroom and jumping on the bed. 
But then you were startled when you heard laughter and loud voices.
 Oh crap! The walls are thin! 
But that's the least of your concerns; it's not like you would be noisy or something.
The afternoon came quickly, and the program kicked off without flaws. They announced the activities that should be done and the schedule for the meals, including the curfew hours. If you were to be asked? Your answer would be, so far, so good. 
The dinner was also held in the same hall. The organizers did a good job of making use of the tables and chairs in the hall as your dining table and training table.
However, your little happy moment was immediately cut off when Soobin purposely grazed one of the students elbows, making the cold water she was holding be poured over you. Loud gasps from the crowd echoed inside the hall as strings of apology came out of the student's mouth. Your eyes flickered throughout the wide space as you muttered, "It's okay," to the student. Your eyes found Soobin walking away from the scene.
You quickly finished your meal after patting your drenched shirt with a tissue the student offered. After finishing your meal, you have no other choice but to go straight to your room. 
You prayed that tomorrow would be a fine day for you.
Tuesday. Second day of the outdoor activity.
You were grouped into pairs. The organizers taught you about first aid. Orienting you about the things you should and shouldn't do in case of emergency. You and your partner executed every step well. It does show that you have learned everything.
Soobin also did well in their execution. But you noticed about his 'unnecessary' touches to his girl partner. Well, he actually isn't doing anything unnecessary. You're just too overprotective of your body. 
Soobin watched you being mortified with his simple quirks, laughing to himself, judging you and your mind.
Wednesday.
You were grouped into five members. Your next activity was the obstacle course. The sole reason for this is to train your mind to think quickly for a technique that would work and allow you to lead. 
Some of the groups even failed from the start. They couldn't decide which would be the leader. 
On the other hand, Soobin was leading his group at ease. He looks like he knows it, just like the back of his hand. Too familiar with what a leader should do.
Thursday. 
It suddenly rained, so your activity that was supposed to be held on the mountain was postponed and was moved for the next day. Which made your stay eventually longer for another day. The organizers resorted to an indoor activity. Or you could actually call this free time. They allowed everyone to have fun. Everyone was having a blast on their own or with their friends.
You decided to take a short walk while the rain poured hard. You passed by a vending machine and grabbed yourself a drink—which might be wrong because you're too far from the hall now and there's no restroom to be found. 
Your eyes widened when you saw a room, which you guessed was a toilet. But when you opened the door, someone was inside.
"What the fuck?! Don't you know how to knock?!"
"Aaahhhh! Don't you know how to lock?!" you retorted as you froze in your feet and turned your back to the person inside the toiled. 
"Fucking goodness! What the hell are you doing here?!" he zipped his pants up before he turned to you—again, it was Soobin.
"I-i'm looking for a restroom! You should know how to lock the door!" You squealed.
You heard him scoffed, "The lock doesn't work, and..." 
"And?" you questioned, folding your arms in front of you, feigning frustration—but you couldn't hide the fact that your ears were so red. 
"This restroom is not for the girls, weirdo." His lips played a mocking smile. "You're not beating the whore allegations, are you?" He stepped forward, trapping you on the wall, his hand flew to your waist, pinning you.
You tried to push him away, "Get your filthy hands off—H-hah!" 
Your body trembled, and your knees became wobbly when he pressed his hand against your lower abdomen. 
"S-soobin... Your... Your hand..." You tried to pry his hand away, but to no avail. Soobin just pressed it further, making the hair of your body stand up. 
"S-soobin... Please... Y-your h-hand," you stuttered. You felt a few drops of the hot liquid flow out from you.
Soobin pulled his hand away, leaving you slumped on the floor, shaking. "You're so easy," he chuckled before he left.
You didn't almost make it to the toilet. The moment you let it out, you felt tears run down your cheeks. Maybe because of humiliation, or anger, or arou—there's no way!
That night, you chose not to eat dinner, you stayed inside your room. However, someone knocked on your door. You didn't want to open it at first, but the person behind kept on knocking. When you opened the door, there's no person in the hallway. But a food was left beside your door. Your name was written on the water bottle and the packaging of the meal, just like the other meals you ate the past few days. You decided to eat it, not bothering to think whether it's poisoned or whatever.
Friday. The supposed to be last day of the outdoor activity. 
It was a team activity again. The survival. Your team must survive for at least one day in the mountains. You were supposed to look for foods in the wild, to survive a day or night in the mountains. The team is composed of four members. And lucky you, you were teamed up with Soobin. 
You tried your best to be as distant as possible. Just looking at him makes you remember everything that happened last night. 
Everything was going well from the start. Three of you were girls, and you all agreed that Soobin would be the leader of the group.
You made a small port for the four of you to rest, you found fruits that can be eaten, and you gathered the woods for the fire you were supposed to make later.
However, Soobin wasn't expecting something like this to happen—for you to faint out of exhaustion. You are actually weak-hearted, which makes you easily dizzy and tired when doing extra workloads. 
"Soobin! Y/n fainted!" 
"What?!" Soobin quickly ran towards the three of you. The other girls are panicking about you. "Fuck!" he muttered as he tried to wake you up. "Y/n wake up!"
"This won't do! You guys continue our task; I'll bring her to the camp. Please take care of yourselves up here, okay?"
Soobin carried you on his back, walking and running down the mountain as fast as he could. He was assisted by the organizers, but the program wasn't perfect at all! There are no nurses around. 
So Soobin got no choice but to bring you to his assigned room and take care of you instead—class representative duties, right?
"God fucking damn it!" he huffed as he laid you down on the floor, and he was chasing his breath. 
He washed himself first, cleaning out the dirt that clung to his body. Then he grabbed some of his extra clean shirts for you to change into. He wiped you clean with a wet towel and wanted to change your clothes, but he decided not to do it or you would make a fuss. Then he carefully laid you down on his bed, keeping you warm.
One of the teachers knocked and checked on him. He was also told that the activity was cancelled and they made the students go back. The teacher was relieved to know that you were fine and that you're resting.
You woke up with him sitting beside you. "W-where are we? What happened?" you weakly asked. 
"You're finally awake," he sighed. "You fainted." 
He then passed you a packet of sugar and some water. "Drink this, I have nothing else to offer."
After a few minutes, you felt yourself recover a bit. It wasn't that bad, you're just too exhausted. 
"Let's go back," you said as you rose from the bed and walked towards the door.
"Look at this attention seeker," he scoffed.
"What the fuck are you saying again?! I just fainted!" you yelled back.
"That's right! You just fainted, and you want to go back in the mountains? For what? For our classmates to carry you and let them touch your body? Or for the teachers to give you extra credits for being a 'good girl'?" Soobin's brow furrowed as he raised his voice.
"What did you say?" You walked closer to him.
"That you're a slut, a whore, and an attention seeker. Simple as that."
Soobin smirked as he watched you dug your nails onto your palm again.
"What? Am I wrong?" 
Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up to him with gritted teeth.
"You're... You're totally wrong..." you sniffled.
"Then show me you aren't like that," he says.
"W-what?" 
Soobin sat on the bed as he watched you. "Get on your knees for me," he smirked. "Show me you are not a teacher's fuck toy."
"Prove it, so I won't tell the class you soiled your pants last night," he finishes.
You didn't know what came over you. You just found yourself kneeled down between his legs as you tried your hardest to suck him.
Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.
"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.
"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.
You pulled away. "S-stop recording," you muttered.
"No, this is for the records. A proof that you aren't a teacher's pet," he grinned before guiding your head back to his cock.
"You're such a whore," he snickers as he zooms in to your face. "Fucking good, with this pretty face," he muttered.
He shoved your face down, practically fucking your throat, not giving a fuck at how you gagged. Then he pulled you away as he shot his cum on your face.
"Ohh fuck! Fuck! Ahh!" His body trembled as he finally came, his phone shaking in the process. 
Pressing the stop button, he tossed his phone on the bed and pulled you up on his lap, crashing his lips against yours as his hand wandered on your body, groping and squeezing any part.
"Need to be inside you, you slut," he whispered between the kisses.
"'m n-not," you whimpered. His hand finally settled on your waist, and he grinds you above him.
"Look how hard you make me," he said, his teeth grazing your neck.
"S-soobin... Stop... W-we shouldn't be doing—ahh...mpph.."  Your soft moans and whines are music to his ear.
"Shhh, be quiet for me, okay?" he said, giving your chin a kiss. He slips his hand under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side.
"See? You're a total whore, y/n. You're wet."
Too embarrassed, you hide on his neck, hugging him closer. He easily lifted your hips and slid himself inside you with so much ease as you whimpered on his ear.
"T-this is w-wrong.. Ahh.. please..."
"Wrong?" he questioned, tilting your face to look behind you, only to be met with your own eyes. Soobin manhandled you with ease and turned you around instead. Your back flushed against his chest as he spread and held your legs up. 
"Watch how your hungry pussy suck my cock," he whispered to your ear as the both of you watched yourselves in the mirror. Your ears turned red out of embarrassment as you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself to moan.
"Be quiet, okay? The others are back," he said, kissing your ear. Your hands clasped over your mouth, the squelching sound was the only thing to be heard. 
"I love how dirty you are, fuck, you turn me on so much," he grunts, hitting deeper places inside you.
"B-bin..." you whined, tears rolling down your cheek. 
"S-something's g-gonna.... Ahhh... S-soobin, please..."
"You're close, doll? Cum on my cock, then," he smirks.
"N-no wait! Wait!" you squirmed, trying to get off of him, but he's too strong for you.
"S-soobin please w-wait---" Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy in a squirting manner because of his cock still deep inside you. Your body started twitching when he continued to fuck you relentlessly.
"Gonna fill you. 'M gonna fill you to the brim, fuck you're so fucking tight!" Soobin hides behind your neck as he finishes inside you, his grip on your thighs tightened.
"B-bin... I feel like... 'm gonna... F-faint..." Your body was slumped on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you, a glob of his cum coming out from your spent folds. He then laid you down on his bed again and lays beside you as he tucked the both of you to bed. 
The problem for tomorrow is for tomorrow. He's now on cloud nine, feeling so good as he lays beside his favorite girl crush.
@binniesbooks 2024
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wakeup01 · 4 months ago
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buttslut
If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.
An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.
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“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”
“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.
Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.
“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.
“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”
Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.
Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.
“But I thought you hated this—“
“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.
A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.
“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”
“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.
“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.
“Big and…empty.”
A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.
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Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.
Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.
“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.
“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”
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godsandmonsters505 · 2 years ago
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Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith
dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader
(AU where the apocalypse never happened)
Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.
Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging
Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)
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Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances
Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.
Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.
And that's how you got here.
You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.
"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."
Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.
"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.
You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.
"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.
The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.
"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.
"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."
"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.
"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."
"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.
"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.
"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.
Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.
"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.
He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"
You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.
"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."
"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.
You laugh softly under your breath at his response.
"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.
The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.
The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.
"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."
A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."
"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"
Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.
"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?
Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.
"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.
Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.
You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.
"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."
You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.
"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"
"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.
The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.
You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.
"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.
"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.
You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.
"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.
"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.
The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.
"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.
He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.
You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.
"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."
"Feel like watching it again?"
You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.
"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."
"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."
You laugh at him. "I feel you."
You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.
When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.
You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.
All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.
"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.
You look over to the television and see a black screen.
"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.
What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.
"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."
"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."
"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."
The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.
"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.
"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"
A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.
You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.
His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?
He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.
You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.
You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.
"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."
"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.
"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.
Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.
His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.
As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.
You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.
You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.
Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.
"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.
He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.
"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.
"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.
He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.
Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.
Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.
"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.
"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."
As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.
He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.
He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.
"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.
Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.
You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.
"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.
"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.
He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.
He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.
He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.
"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"
"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.
You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.
Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.
Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.
Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.
"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.
He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.
"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."
"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.
You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.
"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.
"Do you want to?" He counters.
"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"
"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."
You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"
He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.
"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.
"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.
"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.
Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.
"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.
"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."
He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.
"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."
Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.
His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.
"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.
"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.
"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."
"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."
His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.
He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.
"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.
"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.
Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.
He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.
Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.
You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.
Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.
"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.
"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."
You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.
To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.
"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."
Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.
Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.
"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.
He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.
You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.
"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."
Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.
Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.
The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.
Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.
"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.
"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.
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deadghosy · 9 months ago
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WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!
Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️
STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘
HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER
prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”
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Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…
“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.
Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.
You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.
“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.
NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥
I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.
“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.
Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.
Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.
I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.
I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗
Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”
Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”
I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things
NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)
“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”
Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.
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The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆
Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.
Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.
I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.
“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”
I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”
Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.
“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭
I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”
I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.
I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.
“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”
THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️
I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.
I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.
Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room
I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.
When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.
I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.
NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️
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chimielie · 8 months ago
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yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)
summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
word count: 2k
cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end
a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog
Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.
He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.
“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.
Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.
“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables. 
“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”
“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”
“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake. 
A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.
Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor. 
He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.
Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.
You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.
Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.
You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.
Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.
You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.
This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out. 
Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.
He does not like it when other men flirt with you.
“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”
“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”
Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.
“Ow! Douchebag!”
“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.
“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.
“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.
The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly. 
“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?” 
“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.
“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”
Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.
Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.
He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.
As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.
“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”
“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.
“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”
“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”
“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”
“I don’t!”
“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”
“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.
“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”
“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”
“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”
“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.
“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”
“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”
“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.
“Please leave,” says the librarian. 
You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.
“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”
“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.
“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?” 
“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.
“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed. 
“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”
“Yes, please,” he says fervently.
You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.
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koiiiji · 6 months ago
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threats
summary ; no-one dead au, Gapryong love his kids, him and Baekho thinks their youngster have crush on Jinyong’s daughter, while he being delulu and calls their sons wolves (Jinyong secretly cheering for Jake)
tw ; none, pure fluff and actually happy Kim family
pairing(?) ; kid!jake kim x kid!reader(?)
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The celebration at Gapryong Kim's mansion was in full swing,the occasion was significant - his birthday - the air thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and the warm glow of camaraderie. The adults, slightly tipsy and buoyed by nostalgia, sat around the large dining table and in clusters throughout the spacious living room.
Jake, with his boundless energy and cheerful demeanor, was busy running around the garden, making jokes and laughing. Jerry, more reserved and stoic, watched his friends with a calm smile, while you, being a bit moody yet generally happy, played nearby. Gitae, Gapryon’s oldest son, sat on the steps, brooding and occasionally rolling his eyes at the younger kids' antics. He was in that difficult transitional age where he felt misunderstood and often annoyed by everyone around him.
Inside the mansion, Gapryon and his right-hand men, Jinyong Park, Baekho Kwon, and other members of Gapryong's fist enjoyed the party. Gapryong, a fierce yet caring leader, laughed heartily with his friends, while Jinyong kept an eye on whole buster - trying to mesmorise warm moments with his dearest friends.
Suddenly, the door to the grand room burst open, and you ran in, tears streaming down your face. The room fell silent as you launched yourself into your father’s arms, sobbing.
"Daddy! Daddy!" - you cried, clutching Jinyong’s shirt tightly. - "Jake is threatening my life!"
The adults in the room exchanged confused glances. Jake, the sunny and optimistic boy, threatening someone? It seemed impossible. Moments later, Jake stumbled into the room, his face flushed and red as a tomato. His heart raced with a mix of embarrassment and panic, as he feared what you might say. - "I'm not threatening her life!" he exclaimed, clearly flustered. The room erupted in confusion at the sight of the two young children so passionately arguing. Jinyong petted your hair gently, trying to soothe you.
"What happened, sweetheart?" - he asked softly. You wiped your tears and took a deep breath, ready to present your case. - "Daddy, Jake said he wants to MARRY ME! Can you imagine?!"
Laughter filled the room as Jake, embarrassed and blushing even harder, protested, - "No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!" - you insisted, sticking your tongue out and pointing at him with your finger. But Jake kept arguing and room filled with child's screams of "Yes" and "No"
"I'm gonna marry only my daddy!"
Gapryong, who loved you as his own child, chuckled and decided to tease you a bit. - "But doesn’t your dad already marry your mother, huh?"
You froze, shock and confusion crossing your face as you turned to look at your father, your eyes welling up with fresh tears. Gripping his shirt tightly, you asked, - "Daddy?... Is that true?" - Jinyong, trying to contain his laughter, nodded. - "You know, baby, your mother still needs a husband, right?"
"Traitor! Daddy is a traitor!" you declared dramatically, eliciting more laughter from the adults. Jake watched you, feeling a pang of resentment and a deeper, unspoken feeling. He had a childish crush on you, and though he didn't fully understand it, he knew he liked you a lot. The idea of marrying you seemed natural to him, even if he was too young to grasp its full meaning. Determined and full of childish resolve, you slid off your father’s lap and marched over to Gapryong. "Then... then..." - you stammered, trying to form your next plan. Gapryong, enjoying the moment, leaned down to your level. - "Then what, little one?" - he asked with a warm smile.
"Then I'll marry... Uncle Gapryong!" - you announced, much to the amusement of everyone present. Gapryong laughed heartily and scooped you up in his arms. - "Well, I'm married as well! And I’m afraid I’m too old for you, sweetheart."
As everyone in the room tried to hold back their laughter, you pouted, realizing your grand declaration might not work out as planned. But the genuine affection and warmth from your family made the moment one to remember. Jake, still blushing, sighed with relief and muttered to his father, - "See? I wasn't threatening her life..."
The room erupted in laughter again, the adults and children alike sharing in the joy and absurdity of the moment, making it a birthday celebration to remember. Just as the laughter began to die down, Gapryong, still smiling, said, - "How about Jake anyway, huh?"
You shook your head vigorously. - "NO!! Uncle Gapryong, don't you understand that Jake spends all his time with Jerry! And they're always hugging!" - You crossed your arms defiantly, misinterpreting their fights as affectionate embraces - "I don't want my husband to hug someone else!" - More laughter filled the room, but you remained serious, big tears still streaming down your cheeks. You jumped off Gapryong's lap, desperately looking for a solution. Your eyes landed on Gitae, who was brooding in the corner of the room. With sudden determination, you ran to him and clung to his neck.
"Then I'm gonna marry brother Gitae!" - you announced with a bright, triumphant smile. It seems that a clear vein of discontent appeared on your father’s forehead and with an innocent smile the glass in his bare hand burst with a crash.
Gitae, caught off guard and visibly annoyed, was about to complain, but you turned to him with the most serious face, as if you were already an adult. - "One wrong word and I will say that I saw how you smoked this morning." - Gitae swallowed hard. It wasn't that he was scared of his mother's reprimands about smoking, but he simply nodded, not wanting to cause more drama. - "Whatever, kid," - he muttered.
Jinyong, not a big fan of Gitae, still with his eyes closed and that innocent smile said, - "I will apply for divorce next morning, hun. Come back to daddy."
bonus :
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The adults had announced their departure a thousand times, each attempt to leave thwarted by another round of drinks, another shared memory, or another joke that sent the room into peals of laughter. Gapryong, at the center of it all, held court with his booming laugh and sharp wit, Jinyong Park matched his pace drink for drink. The room was alive with stories of old scars and forgotten battles, of triumphs and losses, each tale punctuated by hearty toasts and the occasional rowdy song.
In the midst of the adults' revelry, the children, worn out from their own antics, began to succumb to sleep. Jake had run out of steam, Jerry yawned widely before finally giving in, and you, found your eyelids growing heavier by the minute.
As the night deepened, the adults continued to assure one another that they really should be heading home, only to be drawn back into another round of drinks or another hilarious story.
Unbeknownst to the adults, the three of you sneaked out of main room to try to distract yourselves from the impending sleep and fatigue, and decided to play hide and seek. As the hours ticked by, the party showed no signs of waning. But eventually, the night began to wind down, and the adults started to gather their belongings, preparing to leave.
"Alright, everyone, I think it's really time to go now," - Gapryong announced, albeit somewhat reluctantly. His words were met with nods and murmurs of agreement, though none made a move to actually stand up. Jinyong glanced around, suddenly realizing that the children were nowhere in sight. - "Where are the kids?" - he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice. The adults exchanged worried glances and began to search the mansion, calling out names and checking every room. The once noisy and cheerful group was now a flurry of anxious activity, peering behind furniture, checking under tables, and opening every door they came across.
"Jake? Jerry? Where are you?" - Gapryong called out, his deep voice echoing through the halls.
It was Baekho Kwon who finally stumbled upon the scene. Opening the closet door, he found the three of you nestled among the fallen clothes, fast asleep. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before calling out to the others.
"I found them! They're in here!"
The adults rushed over, relief washing over their faces as they took in the adorable sight. You, still peacefully asleep on Jake's hand, throwing your head back and drooling on his arm, while he drooling on your shoulder and his arm protectively around you, Jerry's head rested gently on your lap, his calm, steady breathing a testament to the deep sleep only children could achieve. Gapryong smiled warmly at the sight. - "Well, would you look at that," - he said softly, his voice full of affection. - "Looks like they had their own little adventure."
Jinyong knelt down, carefully scooping you into his arms, not wanting to disturb your sleep. - "Come on, sweetheart," - he whispered, - "let's get you home."
Gapryong and Baekho followed suit, gently lifting Jake and Jerry, who barely stirred, their exhaustion too great to be roused by the movement.
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loool i love annoyed daddy Jinyoung so much!!
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st4rfckerz · 1 year ago
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car troubles | james kelly x reader
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word count: 2.6k
warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, age gap, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl etc), very brief dry humping, a lottt of banter, mention of masturbation, cockwarming (?), afab reader
summary: your neighbor james kelly fixes your car for you while you're home alone.
a/n: i lowkey don't like this fic 😭 but it's probably not as bad as i think it is, BUT hopefully you guys enjoy it more than me :)
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it was a blessing and a curse for owning an old car. it was a curse since issues flared up so frequently, but it was also a blessing because it prompted your neighbor, james kelly, to fix it for free.
james was hunched over your car's hood, with a number of tools arranged next to him.
"i doubt this'll take long at all. you just have a dead battery, and maybe a few other mishaps but other than that your car is fine." james explains.
"sounds great. thanks again for fixing my car." you give him a friendly smile. james quickly returns the smile, followed by a small laugh.
"of course, you can always count on me for these kinds of things."
"noted." I fiddle with my fingers nervously before turning away.
"i'll just be inside so just come get me if you need anything."
"alright, will do"
he gives a small nod as he watches you disappear inside. his attention turns back to the vehicle.
ever since your family moved into your home when you were 15 years old, you'd always had a small crush on james. but after you entered college and spent so much time away from home, he had aimlessly plagued your thoughts.
you didn't mean for it to happen, but he just always managed to be the only person you'd think about when you're in bed by yourself. thinking about his tall frame, his long, slender fingers, and the way his arms would shine with sweat from fixing cars all day long always sent a flash of heat through your body.
some time passes and you hear a faint knocking at your back window, followed by the door creaking open just a tad.
"hey, she should be good to go now." he spoke to you as you sit at your kitchen island.
"that was quick, usually the shop takes like, 2 hours. i'm impressed." you chuckle. james gives you a smile and a shrug.
"no need to flatter me sweetheart, I've been doin' this forever."
a shortly lived tinge of arousal goes straight to your core after hearing the sudden petname. it always surprises you when he calls you something other than your name because he rarely ever does.
"if you want you could stay and rest for a little while." you had articulated the plan earlier that day of keeping him in your home while your parents were out, just to see where it would go.
"You wouldn't mind?" james' tired, weary expression lit up and he seemed more hopeful than he had in a while.
"I wouldn't be intruding on anything?" he nervously asked.
"not at all, it's just me here anyways. my dad's at work," you explain, flashing him an innocent smile.
"there's fresh lemonade in the fridge, and if you'd like you can use the shower, i know how hot it is outside."
james cleared his throat and looked over towards you.
"that'd be really nice, actually."
you didn't think it would be so easy to have such a smart man like james fall into your trap, but somehow it worked perfectly. he was in your house, and was about to use your shower. the only thing that was on your mind was simply how much of a genius you are.
"the bathroom's right upstairs, here i'll take you," he follows you upstairs and you lead him to the bathroom.
"there's the shower, soap, shampoo all that stuff." you explain as james stands awkwardly beside you.
"sounds good, thank you i really appreciate it." his voice sounds sincere and soft.
"its no problem really, take as long as you need, i'll just be in my room." you walk out the door before closing it behind you. soon, you hear the sounds of water running from the showerhead.
eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and a small cloud of steam escaping the doorway.
james spots you laying on your bed wearing tiny blue shorts, and a small white tee.
his mouth suddenly goes dry and millions of thoughts begin to swarm around in his mind.
how could you just lay there and look so perfect?
james has been a nervous wreck ever since he arrived at your house. he knew it was wrong to be so attracted to you because of the obvious age gap, but he just couldn't help himself.
he's seen you in so many ways, so many times; outside in the pool wearing nothing but a bikini, laying in the grass wearing your skimpy shorts and tank top casually trying to get a tan, he's even watched you change your clothes right in front of your bedroom window.
he always saved those mental images of you so he could fuck his fist later on.
james clears his throat and looks over at you, standing awkwardly at your doorway.
"oh hey." you smile. james glances over your room and notices your college flag plastered on your wall.
"college huh?" he points at the flag and begins walking towards your bed.
"yeah, I'm almost done actually." you reply sitting up and swinging your legs across the side of your bed.
"how much longer do you have?" he crosses his arms and leans against the wall.
"about 6 months? i'm so ready for it to be over," you sigh heavily.
"did you go to college?" you ask him.
"trade school." james nods
"i figured, you don't seem like you were the frat boy type." you joke.
james' face lights up in amusement as he laughs a little walking over to you. he decides to take a seat right next to you on your bed
"yeah... no. definitely not the frat boy type. never saw the appeal in them."
"me neither they can be obnoxious, can't stand them." you explain. an awkward silence stills before you both.
he looks at you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in anticipation.
"you must have boyfriends back at college, don't you?" his slight change in tone and lift in confidence makes you a little nervous.
"oh no, i-i don't, college guys aren't really my...thing." you stutter. your gaze lingers on james, drinking his presence in.
his hair, still wet from the shower, glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. you could drool on the spot at the sight of his broad shoulders, muscles barely peeking out of from under his gray t-shirt.
"then what is your 'thing'." james shifts his body to face you more.
you shrug and shake your head.
"i don't know, i guess i just always went for older guys." you confess. you knew it was slightly obvious what you were suggesting but it was now or never.
a sly smirk appears on james' face before speaking again.
"really?"
"always have." you look down at your legs quickly. the way james was staring at made you feel like you were on fire.
"do you like anyone in particular?" james was itching at some kind of answer that could miraculously allude to himself.
"that's confidential." you try to avoid looking at him so he doesn't see the obvious blush spread across your cheeks.
"right, right." james had a small grin on his face as you revealed the answer.
he was almost giddy with joy. he knew what he wanted to hear, but he never expected you still had feelings for him.
"it's dumb, i know," a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body and you immediately regret admitting something so elementary.
"i'm sorry if it bothers you i don't-" james cuts you off
"it doesn't bother me."
"it doesn't?" james shakes his head and smiles slightly.
"no, does it bother you?"
"no." he begins leaning towards you slowly and your brain shuts down completely.
james was close enough to feel your breath as you spoke. his face was a few inches away from yours, and he was looking straight into your eyes.
there was a long pause for a moment. It was as if james thought you were gonna do something.
his voice was a little quiet as he spoke his next words.
"good."
james finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips softly against yours.
a tingle went up his spine as your lips came into contact with his. he had never anticipated this, but it felt different. it felt right.
his hand reached to touch your face and he pulled you in closer slowly, your bodies connecting more and more as he leaned into you.
the kiss deepens and a small whimper erupts in your throat.
james noticed the noise you made and smiles against your lips. his big hands grab your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.
he gently pulled you closer to his body again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and his other arm reached to caress your body as both of your lips touched.
james' lips connect to your neck, nipping at the skin along your jawline.
you moan slightly and subconsciously rut your hips against his.
he let out a groan as he gently broke the embrace to look at you.
"needy girl." he teases.
james grabs your hips and moves them harder against his center. he began kissing your neck as you rested in the position he held you in.
you feel his hand suddenly slip into your underwear.
"oh, sweetheart," james breathes out. he could feel how wet and needy you were for him
a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger draws antagonizingly slow circles around your clit.
"james please, i need you." the words that escaped your lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body.
he kept kissing your neck, his hand slither up your shirt, caressing and pinching at your nipples.
your words sent him over the edge and he let out a soft groan.
you needed so much more than his single finger. you mindlessly began to toy with the waistband of his pants, itching to just rip them off of him completely.
james was more than ready to let your hands do there work, as he lifted up his hips slightly.
"can i take these off?" james asks you softly, he begins pushing your shorts down your thighs.
you nod your head quickly and discard your shorts along with your shirt leaving you only in your underwear.
james' eyes shoot straight down to your chest.
"so perfect for me," he coos as he quickly latches his mouth onto one of your nipples, soon leaving little purple bruises on them. your eyes squeeze shut as you feel his tongue flicking against the bud.
the sound of a belt hitting the ground makes you jump slightly.
"i can't wait any longer." james mutters against your lips before pressing his mouth against yours.
his fast hands move your underwear to the side.
the feeling of his cock finally entering your dripping hole made your head fall onto his shoulder and a long breathy moan fall from your lips.
you can feel james' body shudders under you.
"oh, fuck," james waits a few seconds before finally thrusting upwards, moving your hips to meet his simultaneously.
the sound of yours and james' moans followed by the slight slapping of skin filled the air of your bedroom.
"you feel so good baby, so good for me."
if james kept speaking to you in that velvety tone you were sure that you were gonna cum a lot quicker than expected.
your mind was completely empty, not a single thought popped into your brain.
that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cellphone.
"it's my dad." you tell james urgently but he continues to litter your neck with small kisses and bites.
"answer it."
you stare at him blankly, the annoying ringtone still erupting from your phone.
your fingers hesitate for a moment before accepting the call and pressing your phone up to your ear.
"hey dad." you try to stiffle a moan as james begins thrusting up into you again.
it was so difficult trying to contain your moans while still trying to have a conversation with your dad.
"yeah, james came over mm-" your hand flies to your mouth.
you could feel james smirk against your neck as he continues to thrust into you at a faster pace.
"no-sorry, it was a cough."
he was relentless with his hunger for you, and didn't want to keep it at bay.
"be quiet baby, we don't need daddy hearing how good i'm making you feel hm?"
his voice was suddenly filled with a deep and lustful tone, but you loved it.
james heard the talking from your phone but it didn't distract him, it only sent a tinge of excitement in his heart.
he let his hands to roam all over your body, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.
"he did a great job, the car...the car should be ok now."
your dad just kept talking. completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the phone.
james grins widely and let out a quiet moan, feeling your pussy squeeze around him.
his lips left your neck and he let his head lean back on the headboard. he didn't even stop his advances as he heard your dad talking. he just enjoyed seeing you try your hardest to stay quiet as he abused your cunt.
your dad finally says his goodbyes after asking a million questions regarding james' visit and you have never felt so relieved.
"that was a close one." james chuckled.
you let out an exasperated laugh, still not able to fully function. especially now that his fingers begin rubbing furiously at your clit, causing you to moan louder and buck your hips harder against his.
"j-james..." your body was shaking uncontrollably. that familiar not began to form in your stomach and fiery heat began to spread through your legs.
"you gonna cum for me pretty girl?" he taunts.
your face contorts in pleasure as you try to muster up any words that come to mind.
"m'so close-"
"i know baby i know, me too." the grip he has on your thighs grows firmer and his nails begin to dig harshly into your skin.
"come on sweetheart, give it to me." james thrusts harder into you, swiftly hitting your sweet spot everytime.
your walls clench around his cock as you cum, earning a loud, throaty groan from james. his warm seed coats your insides, leaving you feeling full and absolutely satisfied.
"there you go," james coaxes you through your orgasm.
james felt your sweat covered body collapse onto his and he kissed your forehead softly.
he kept his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to him.
"are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth after a moment.
"mhm, m'ok" you flash james a tired smile.
he slowly opened his eyes as well and kissed your forehead. he let out another sigh as his arms were still wrapped around you.
then he spoke again, his voice filled with curiosity.
"so...what did your dad want to talk about?" he asked softly, still laying back on the bed with you on top of him.
"he was just asking if you had already come over and everything," you let out a snort.
"i definitely came." you look up at james to see a cocky smile across his face.
"stop," you giggle and slap his arm playfully.
"he also mentioned that he would be staying an extra hour at work."
james' demeanor shifted once you told him the good news of your dad staying longer at work.
"good," james leaned forward and kissed you again, grabbing your hand and pulled you down to the bed.
his hands slowly traveled down to your thighs, and he caressed it slightly before pulling your legs apart and situating himself in between them.
"because i'm not done with you yet."
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tvgals · 11 months ago
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i accidentally posted it so i had to delete it 😪
ALSO THANK UOU BAE 💞💞
‘ LET THE LIGHT IN. ‘
even though bully! connie had undeniable feelings for you, he hadn’t told anyone besides you yet. how big of a mistake was that?
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you were smiling at yourself while getting ready for you and connie’s second date. you were officially his girlfriend, no one else knew but you two. connie said he’d never keep you two a secret! the lies he told.
your phone started to ring, the name ‘con 💞’ popping up. you grinned and answered the facetime. he was in the car with someone, a boy it sounded like. you were 50% sure it was his friend eren, but you weren’t sure.
“hi baby!” you grinned, waving at him.
connie’s eyes go wide, he immediately turns down the volume and keeps on driving, not saying a word. this was weird. usually he’d be so excited to be on the phone with you, so enthusiastic to talk to you, why was he so different now?
“who that?” you hear the boy in the passenger seat talk, now you were sure it was eren. “it ain’t nobody.” connie responds. eren laughed to himself. “i know that ain’t y/n.” you perk up at the sound of your name, you purse your lips and listen further. connie gave eren a look to ‘shut the fuck up’ but he kept on going. “bro, just tell her about the prank. i’ve seen her following you around, shit’s getting embarrassing.” eren starts to laugh harder.
“you haven’t told her yet? dude, you’re gonna crush her.” eren reprimanded connie through laughs. good thing this was his house. “okay okay, i’ll see you tomorrow?” eren asks, sticking his hand out so connie can dap him up, but connie just huffed and told eren to get out.
once the coast was clear, you sniffled. “what prank, connie?” connie’s heart breaks at the sound of your weak voice. he turns his phone back up and sighs. “nothing, baby.” connie sighed. “it is something. i’m not stupid!” you say into the phone. you’d gotten all pretty for no reason. for someone who asked you out as a joke. “no, it’s not. eren is just a dumbass. don’t listen to him.” connie tries to shrug off the situation.
“fuck you connie. i thought you’d actually change for me. i’m breaking up with you. don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t come over. we’re done.” you cry into the phone. you hang up and block connie, throwing your phone onto your bed. connie fucked up. something in his head told him to tell everyone else before shit got fucked up, but he never did. and it came back to bite him in the ass.
“jesus..” connie mumbled to himself, rubbing his face. he never knew this would blow up in his face. he thought it would just be harmless and no one would get hurt. he looked at the time, 5:45 and he headed off to walmart. he had to make it up to you. he pulled into the walmart parking lot, shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks inside and goes directly to the floral section, grabbing you a plethora of pink and purple and orange flowers. he smiles at the sight of your face in his mind. he hopes you can forgive him. connie then relocates to the card section, where he grabbed you a plain pink glittery card, where he plans to write a message to you. he then grabs you a few plushies and a pink gift bag.
he checks out and heads to his car, holding his breath on the drive to your house. he can’t even listen to music. he’s scared he’ll find a song that’ll remind him of you. he parked his car across from your house. he turns his car off and takes a deep breath, grabbing his gifts and walking to your door. connie is glad he knows his way around your family. your dad takes the morning shift, so he’s dead asleep while your mom takes third shift, so she’s at work. he lightly knocks on the door a few times. “please, y/n…” he whispers to himself. he gets a bit excited when he hears the pitter patter of your feet. he’s sure you have those cute pink socks with the bow on the top. you open the big door, sighing at the sight of connie.
“i told you don’t come over…” your voice is hoarse, sounding as if you’ve been crying ever since you’d hung the phone up. “i couldn’t just let you leave me without an explanation, baby.” connie says. “i gotchu some stuff…can we just talk?” he asks. you look down at his hands to see flowers and that cute little pink gift bag. “okay.” you say. you unlock the screen door and connie walks in, closing both doors before taking his shoes off. he follows behind you to your room. he intakes the familiar smell of winter candy apple immediately. connie hands you your gifts, which you handle with care when you place it on your nightstand.
“talk, connie.” you mumble, fiddling around with your fingers. “look, it was…” connie struggles to get the words out. “it was a prank.” connie admits, his head hanging low. you hold your breath, trying not to cry. “so what the fuck did you come over here for? just to play in my face?” you ask, almost crying. “no, no. you ain’t let me get to the point mama.” connie said, pulling you close. you tried to resist, but your mind wouldn’t let you.
“it started off as a prank. but when i started gettin’ to know you and seeing how you are, i fell in love. im sorry i didn’t tell anyone, baby…” connie apologized, rubbing circles along your hips. you gave yourself a second to register what he said to you. is he telling the truth? or was he just trying to string you along? “okay…” you mumble. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, hope in his voice. you sigh. “how are you gonna make it up to me? y’know i can’t forgive you this easy.” you grin, looking up at him. “i gotchu, mama.” connie says. he gently pushed you down on the bed. shimmying you out your pajama pants.
“you’re so pretty f’me…” he whispers, pulling your print panties to the side and gently kissing your cunt. “please connie, don’t tease.” you whine, arching your back. connie knew this was his last chance to make it up to you, so he did what he had to please you. he delve into your cunt, slurping and pressing sloppy kisses to it. connie almost lived in your cunt, always eating you out when you were stressed about finals, maybe even if you were just minding your business. “shit, connie!” you groan, arching your back and pushing his head further.
“mhmm…” connie hummed into your pretty pussy. “jesus, con!” you whined, your legs tightening around connie’s head. connie pulled away for a brief second. “open ‘em up, mama.” connie instructed you, pushing your legs apart before continuing to eat you out. “i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, trying to be quiet to not wake up your dad. “mhm, cum f’me…” he mumbles as you came on his face. connie couldn’t be more handsome than what he was now. his eyes low and filled with lust. “gonna let me fuck you now?” connie asked, pulling his dick out his nike sweatpants. “mhm…” you hum, pulling connie close to you. he chuckles at the action, pushing his dick inside your wet cunt.
“i’m so sorry, baby…” connie whimpers, thrusting into your cunt. “it’s okay…it’s okay…i k-know you didn’t mean it.” you forgive connie, holding his veiny hands. “please please, i didn’t mean f-for this to happen…i love you y/n.” connie moaned into your ear, his pace getting gradually faster. “don’t just throw that word around!” you reprimanded him, clawing at his back. “m not…i mean it…” connie whispers, almost too quiet to hear. “p-promise?” you sigh out, arching your back. “pinky promise.” connie smiled.
“‘m gonna cum…gonna cum so hard…” connie warned you. moaning like there’s nothing else in the world but you. “where d’you want it?” connie asks, looking up at you. “inside…” you gripe, curling your toes. with a few more strokes and moans, connie shoots his cum inside of you, biting your shoulder to keep quiet. after a few minutes of silence, you suck up the courage to ask connie a question.
“you really love me?” you ask, looking into his big olive eyes. “of course i do…” connie grinned, pressing kisses to your face. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, holding your hand. “yes. but you have to tell people we’re dating.”
“deal.”
TAGLIST :
@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @Therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @luvv-des @blackgirlontheblock @cherrycrys @thecoloredpages @xricly @jazzyluuv @peter-parkers-gf @chinaza444 @dynoduck @princesslilisworld @what-am1rah @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @vitlicious @yuckyygutz @liyahontop @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @s1xtr @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @sylisan @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld @anotherblackreader @petitecolibri @bakuhoe37 @anubisisthebomb @sillygoofymoodx @sinnerzstuff @viisgrave @silkcatsz @bratzdolly4 @motheroffae @dollypipp @princessru1 @s1rennsworld
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okaerina · 7 months ago
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𓍢 (bnd ver!) like its 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 .ᐟ ໒ 𓂅 ໋⋅
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SIMP! bnd x CRUSH! reader GENRE ! pining, fluff, angst if u squint TW ! none (lmk if there is any) NOW PLAYING ! . . . . magnetic by ill-it WC ! 7O2
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𖠗 𝐣aehyun — shy cute flirt !
insert butter-myung. once he lays eyes on you he's a goner like he's so dramatic about it, panting and clutching his chest hard "guys i think im going to die if i don't wife her up". is pretty delusional too yk. will outwardly flirt with and then get so shy smh. very cheesy pick-up lines that most of the time fail to flutter your heart but does give you a good laugh tho lol (his biggest accomplishment). expect lots of attention and acts of service ^^
𖠗 𝐫iwoo — calm (going insane inside) sweet guy !
tries to be very calm with you, his hand will always be balled in a tight fist and tries to hide the teeth gritting with a nonchalant smile (but the red ear says all lmao). very rational yet funny, constantly pulling jokes that actually make you laugh yet still being respectful. shares his food with you specially donuts!! takes you to caffé dates "hey, there's this new pretzel shop wanna check it out together??" if you say something about dieting he would immediately encourage and lecture you about how important it is eat alot. will try to feed you too >_< !
𖠗 𝐬ungho — nervous yet reliable big guy !
the first time he saw you he was literally going through a massive panic attack, he literally thought he saw an angel lord! tries hard not to stutter or get nervous around you cue the clammy heads lol. but he still tries to collect his composure together and tries to be more reliable. will tie your undone shoelaces, make sure you ate or drank, always making sure you’re not upset. bro will take you’re side and clap back on behalf of you (sass king). will let you rest your head on his broad shoulder if you fell asleep and he so happens to be sitting beside you chill.
𖠗 𝐭aesan — shy introverted observer !
he's very introverted and often struggles to express his feelings. so he will always just admire you from afar, eyes never leaving you. you're his only muse. he notices all the little details about you and your reaction and expressions to certain things. like the way your hair sways, looking soft, they way you get excited with your friends or the way his heart literally explodes when you laugh or smile. if you end up catching him looking at you he would become shy mess, hiding his face and all. you’ll have to strike the convo first tho cuz he's too shy. loves making playlists dedicated to you oh! he has 100+ songs written for you on his soundcloud (shh).
𖠗 𝐥eehan — confident and shameless flirt !
you thought he was a quite and introverted pretty boy but boy were you so wrong. he's way more extreme in cases of flirting than jaehyun. the fact that he knows that he's drop dead gorgeous makes it even more intense. he will say the most cringiest, cheesiest pick up lines with the signature poker face and an eventual smirk (cue the girls screaming) and expect you to swoon (but you don't) and bro's downbad. veryyy delusional like he will announce to the entire school you two are married (you’re not??). you become the only one he yaps about his fishes and weird obsessions too. will hysterically start crying if you tell him to eat more "OMG YOU CARE SO MUCH ABOUT ME LET'S GET MARRIED!!!" "leehan js eat!"
𖠗 𝐰oonhak — cool guy to loser lover !
he would try to put on a cool guy frat boy image infront of you but it was a big silly FAIL! that one time when you smiled back at his corny "hey, beautiful" he passed away infront of the whole class BYE. he thought he had no game but when you aided for him he realised maybe being a loser for you wouldn’t be so bad actually! "hey cuties this one's for you" and then completely misses the ball smh. takes you out to arcade dates and parks to play (you win most of the time). but nevertheless he's a fun guy to be with (pls let him win time to time :D)
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[ 🦢] : last post before semi hiatus (again exams sigh)
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willowsnook · 1 month ago
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Hi,could I request a vodka, lemonade in a wine glass pls and ty?
Btw i am OBSESSED with you're writing
i love u
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carlos sainz x norris!sister
it's always been you
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When your brother Lando was a rookie in F1, you were lucky enough to travel with him to all of his races, taking advantage of your gap year. You’d always been close, so he practically begged you to make the trip each race. Not that you minded; growing up watching him race, you’d come to love the sport yourself.
What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much you’d grow to like his teammate, Carlos.
First of all, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. He was always kind and thoughtful, including you in conversations and going out of his way to make you feel welcome.
It felt like a harmless schoolyard crush at first—he was six years older, after all, and your brother’s teammate. But over that season, it became a little more than that. You saw him less when you went back to school, especially after he made the switch to Ferrari, but the feelings always bubbled up whenever you crossed paths. Every time he pulled you into a big hug, his hands lingering on your lower back, and your heart raced. And he kept up with you, always asking about your studies and your new job, his eyes warm and attentive.
Lando had noticed the way his friend looked at you. It amused him, mostly because Carlos would go out of his way to dodge the topic whenever it came up. Despite his protectiveness, Lando trusted Carlos, and honestly, he was rooting for something to happen.
You’d flown to Monaco at Lando’s request for his housewarming party, which, knowing him, was more about having an excuse to throw a party than showing off his new condo.
Hours into the night, you found yourself on the patio with Alex and a few other drivers, the group deep into the latest fake rumors circulating about Oscar potentially going to Red Bull.
“Man, I don’t even know how they come up with this stuff,” Oscar said, nursing a beer.
“If you left, then Carlos could take your seat and return to his one true love,” Charles said drunkenly, his face flushed from the drinks. Lando laughed, looking over at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.
“Miss me that much, huh?” Lando teased, and Carlos grinned.
“Wrong Norris, bud,” Charles corrected, and the group fell silent. You froze, looking at Charles, thinking you must’ve misheard, but he pressed on.
“Do you think she’ll be in the paddock today, Charles?” he continued, mimicking Carlos’s voice. “What do you think Lando would say?”
Carlos immediately lunged across the table, clapping a hand over Charles’s mouth, and Lando burst out laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up, your heart racing, while Alex shot you a knowing smirk. Was it possible that Carlos actually felt the same way about you?
The conversation drifted on, but Carlos had slipped away inside, leaving Lando waggling his eyebrows at you. After an excuse to grab another drink, you went to find Carlos.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a beer, looking deep in thought. You stepped up in front of him, his gaze dropping to meet yours with a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Hi,” you said softly, suddenly shy.
“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat. He hesitated, glancing around, before he looked back at you with a gentle smile. “I… well, I’m sorry for how that just came out.”
Carlos smiled nervously, setting his beer on the counter, his eyes darting from yours to the floor. You took a steadying breath and decided it was now or never.
“Was Charles just… drunk? Or did he actually mean what he said?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Carlos’s blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Maybe I haven’t been as subtle as I thought,” he murmured with a shy smile.
Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “So… all this time?”
Carlos nodded, his eyes now searching yours, his voice low. “Since the day I met you. It’s always been you.”
A warmth spread through your chest as the words settled in. You’d dreamed of this moment, but hearing it from him made it all the more real. Gathering your courage, you reached up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “Well, it’s always been you for me, too.”
Carlos’s face lit up as he closed the small distance between you, his hand resting on your waist as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with everything left unsaid over the years
“Finally,” he whispered, chuckling softly.
Just then, Lando poked his head into the kitchen with a knowing grin. “So, should I go thank Charles for finally spilling the beans, or are you two going to pretend this never happened?”
Carlos groaned, rolling his eyes, but you just laughed, squeezing his hand.
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