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jarofstyles · 8 months

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Letting Loose

Another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!

Now.... Listen. It's filth. Straight up, but their dynamic is building so you can see some stuff starting... hehe. PLEASEEEE let us know if you want more of them. xoxo

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Part 3

Reminder that Y/N is an adult and met him as one too <3

warnings- smut, choking, spit play (sorta), daddy kink, age gap, degradation, name calling, mention of ex, jealousrry, forbidden/taboo relationship, breeding kink xoxo

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Y/N knew what she was doing.

She was taunting him. Teasing him. Making him mad. Harry was a possessive man, and both of them knew it. He had declared her body as his multiple times, now becoming every time they had sex. And ever since Lia had gotten a girlfriend, she had been out of the house a lot more- which meant that Y/N had been in the house without the risk of her friend catching her on her knees for her father.

Harry was a generous man in all capacities. He had let her stay when her apartment flooded, had always provided food and paid for her when they all went out, left money out for them to order pizza, even paying for their trip to Cancun after graduation. But it seemed his generosity knew no bounds when it came to Y/N, unfiltered.

His hands snuck underneath his shirt, mouth connecting to her bruised neck as she finished applying her nightly skincare. Lia had gone on a ‘mountain retreat’ with her girlfriend last night and wasn’t due home for another 4 days, which Harry was taking full and complete advantage of.

With an empty house, having Y/N there felt a bit like a different universe. Harry had been indulging in his touches, grabbing at her and pulling her into his lap, swimming with her in the pool, holding her to his chest while she made breakfast. He was borderline clingy, but he knew that’s how he was when he liked someone. Attached at the hip.

When he got his divorce, he had strayed far away from this sort of thing. He had his one night stands but ultimately had decided to lay off if anything romantic since his marriage had ended up being a disaster. Lia had been the one good thing to come out of it- and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, sleeping with her best friend, but it was more than that.

That was something else that scared him. This girl, this sweet woman who had come into his life in such a way that should make him take 10 steps back, had him closer to her than ever. Closer than he had allowed himself to be with anyone else. She was just… refreshing. Invigorating. Their conversations had been enjoyable pre-sex, her mind always impressing him with the things that came out of her mouth- but now that he got to see her with almost no boundaries? His admiration for the woman had increased tenfold.

Just laying in bed talking, bringing up moral questions and things that she believed, their fingers lazily linked together as she talked with her hands and moved them about- it was one of the things he loved the most. Then there were moments like the current one, where he hadn’t given her a moment alone in the bathroom.

“H, please.” She hummed, taking the peach face toner and placing it down. “You’re making me spill.” His mouth on her neck had distracted her from the task at hand, shakily applying the toner to a cotton round as she tried to finish her routine before moisturizer. It was a very strict and thorough one.

“M’sorry.” He sighed, pulling away from her neck but making no motion fo take his hands out under her shirt. Her skin was warm and silky, stomach clenching as his hands sprawled out over it. “Just… gets to me when I see my marks on you.” He rested his cheek against hers, looking at their reflection in the mirror.

While it was apparent that he was older than her, they looked.. good. He had been surprised the first time he saw it, how she had melted into his grip and blinked into the reflection with a nod. It didn’t look like a father and daughter- thank fucking god- but it looked like they were a good looking couple. One that people would perhaps understand the gap considering they were both good looking and Harry wasn’t an old bag quite yet. He did have some graying at the temples, but Y/N had let him know how much she liked the idea of him being a ‘silver Fox’.

“I know.” She peeped, looking at them in the mirror. A dark mark resided on the curve of her jaw, the other hidden under the skirt and on her thighs. “Can’t be so careless when Lia gets back, though. Unless you want me to make up a whole story about some guy I’m seeing again. We both know how much Daddy doesn’t like that.” Her tone was teasing, a faux pout taunting him about the subject.

So, maybe, possibly, he had fucked her within an inch of her life the last time she had used that excuse. That she had blamed it on one of those stupid boys she met at the bars and said they’d gone out and done the deed in the car when in reality, the origin of the marks had been from a few days prior when she had been at Harry’s office riding him on his couch. Risky, all things considered.

His jaw set as he pulled his hands out from her top, turning her around so he could look into her eyes. “None of that. You don’t have to get so… detailed in those stories either.” He huffed. “We both know that none of those boys could give you half of what Daddy gives you. None of the orgasms, none of the pretty gifts, none of the sweetness. So I don’t want t’hear about these fake hookups.”

Y/N liked this. When he got huffy and possessive, when he got the fiery glare and clenched jaw. She loved to taunt him and make him show her just how much he hated it. “No? Those boys can’t give me what Daddy can?” Her fingers trailed over his chest, tapping over his necklace. “That’s what your appeal is, isn’t it? Being a real man. Giving me all the things they haven’t gotten the experience to do. Even if it makes you a dirty old man to show me, you will.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth, fully expecting the next move.

Harry grabbed her hips and hauled her up to sit on the sink top before tangling his hand in her hair. “Watch it.” His warning made her shiver slightly, head tilted back by the firm grip he had in her hair. “Just hours ago you were on your knees begging for this ‘dirty old man’s cock down your throat.”

Y/N keened, a giggle leaving her throat as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer, legs spreading so he could stand in between them. She loved to rile him up, to watch the flame burn inside of him. Getting his possessive reaction, this jealousy fueled her. She wouldn’t go off and do anything with anyone else- there was no desire or reason to. Harry had fully satisfied her every need. It was just nice to feel desired. To see him bristle at the thought of anyone else touching her because he wanted her all to himself. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse from the act. “Don’t need to get so jealous. You know I will end up with you. M’just covering for all the marks you’re giving me.”

“Don’t like thinking about it. Y’go out and reject all of them, I know you do. But the idea of it irritates me.” He exhaled, feeling her slightly damp fingers brush under his own shirt. Her head tilted back, her face bare from any makeup and glowing from the rigorous skincare routine she had just performed and pouted slightly up at him. “Don’t give me that lip, Petal.” His thumb caught it, tugging it down slightly before it snapped back into place. “Just like it when you remember that you’re Daddy’s girl, is all.”

The softened tone made her stomach dance, leaning into his hand with a content sigh. He took such good care of her. Y/N knew that she was playing a risky game but this sort of shit was worth it. “I am. M’your girl.” She peeked up at him with her own hazy eyes, letting her fingers catch on the waistband of his shorts. “Are you going to show me that I’m yours?” Dipping them in, she felt the prickle of his hair. Neatly cropped, trimmed to perfection, he kept just enough that made her mouth water. Enough to tickle her nose when she was able to get him down all the way.

“I’m going to make sure you remember for days, sweet girl.”

—-----

The sound of skin slapping filled the warmly lit bedroom. His bedroom was a sanctuary, somewhere off limits for anyone besides him- and much to anyone else’s surprise if they knew, Y/N. Soft, warm light emanated from a vintage lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle glow on the room while Harry looked down at the girl sprawled out underneath him, clutching the white sheets he had spent a stupid amount of money on. He only wanted the best for her and her body. Knowing she would be staying the whole week, sleeping with him the whole week, he had made arrangements to have the best of the best. To show her what was possible.

“There you go, baby. Just like that.” The depth of his voice made her shiver under him. Her cheek was pressed to his pillow, knees up and back arched as Harry took her from behind. It was the second round, her body deliciously sensitive but aching for more. Aching to please him and make him let loose on her body. A large, warm hand held her waist as he guided her back on to his cock, watching as she fucked herself on him. Pressing back into him and filling herself up, letting her ass hit his hips and ripple and move just the way he liked it.

“S’good?” She mewled, eyes hazy as she stared vacantly across the bedroom. “You like when I do this? Just want t’be a good girl for you, Daddy. Want you to feel good.” Her voice was wrecked, slurred as she had her cheek smushed against the softness of the icy white pillowcase. Her mouth watered, sure to drip in a little bit, but all the girl could do was take it. Sex had never been this good with anyone else in her life. The older man knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it.

Harry had always been such a patient, calm, controlled man since she had met him. Never raised a voice, never did a single thing inappropriately. He had played all the right cards, but since she had seen him again and everything had changed between them, she could see another part of him. A part she was desperate to help let loose.

The older man had a wildness, a depth to him that was unexplored. A taboo part of his desires that he had never allowed himself to look at. Y/N could see it, could feel it unraveling with each day she spent with him. She made him feel safe but invigorated, which was exactly what she wanted to do. This was something so wrong in theory, but it felt so right. There was no way his hand fit that perfectly on her waist for no reason. She had taunted and tugged at the seams keeping his deepest, darkest desires hidden, trying to unravel them for him. To fulfill the pieces he didn’t know had been missing.

“I do, baby. You are a good girl, my good little girl. Make me feel so fucking good. Never get enough of you, always want you with me. Want to be inside of you every single fucking day.” The man knew that if he had his own way, she would be the one he woke up to every morning and the one he went to sleep with at night. This entire week of playing house had woken up a bigger urge, a primal urge for the girl. An ownership. He was greedy and selfish, but he was loving every fucking second of it.

“You can. You can fuck me however you want, do whatever you want to me. Anything in the world. I just want to make Daddy happy.” Her voice was whiny, face rubbing against the pillow he slept with as he watched her ass recoil with each throw back of her cunt. His cock was glistening with her arousal, wet and slick from her past orgasm. She was going to have bruises on her hips, on her thighs, on her breasts from his handling of her. There would be no denying the fact that she had been fucked deep and thorough, that he had spent time and effort into making her writhe underneath him. “I’m your girl. You said it, I’m all yours to do whatever you want. Be dirty with me, Daddy. Let go. Fuck me how you want.”

Harry didn’t know how else he could want her. This much was a fantasy come alive. The sweet, tight cunt clenching over his cock was heavenly enough. Her encouragement didn’t stop, though.

“Know you're holding back from me. Tell me how much you love it. You love fucking tight, young pussy? You like the change from soulless sex with your ex wife who could barely get you half hard?” Her giggle was cut short by a harsh slap to her ass, the sting making to fall into a moan. “Mm, fuck. I love that. You do, don’t you? Know that it’s risky but you like being inside of me. M’the best pussy you’ve ever had. Admit it.” Y/N’s panting words had him clenching his jaw- mostly because she was right.

He had gone from subpar, emotionless sex to this. To an exciting, adventurous, dirty woman who he most definitely shouldn’t be sleeping with but was too addicting to the heart and to his cock. A woman he liked too much to call a friend with benefits, but was too risky to publicly announce as his girlfriend- even if he desperately wanted to.

The words had a thread snapping, his body crowding hers as he pressed his chest against her back as his cock continued the deeper thrusts, knocking her thighs together a bit more as he covered her body with his own. His hand fell flat against her pillow, a deep chuckle leaving his lips- one that sent a dangerous zing up her spine.

She had done it.

“You are. You’ve got the best cunt I’ve ever fucked, the best mouth I’ve ever fucked, and as soon as you let me in that pretty little ass? That will be mine, too. Most useful set of holes that’s ever walked through my door.” His rough tone had her moaning, success spreading through her body as his opposite hand that wasn’t keeping him up slipped under the pillow to grab her throat. “Been so nice to you when you just antagonize me. You want me to be really dirty, baby? My sweetheart wants to hear what really goes on in my mind every time I see her?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir. Please. I want to know everything.” She was showing her hand, showing exactly how badly she wanted to know what went on in his head. “Tell me. Tell me, I wanna do it all for you.” Y/N would love it if he was a little mean, if he was a little more rough. She knew he treated her delicately because of who she was but that was exactly why she wanted him to lose it. “Treat me like your holes, Daddy.”

Harry had been slightly shocked at the words, though he shouldn't have been. Y/N had always shown that she was a dirty girl, but the depth of it was still to be discovered. It obviously went past a bit of exhibitionism.

“My sweet girl wants to be treated like a set of holes?” He laughed breathily. “Fuck. What am I going to do with you. Silly, silly girl.” He tightened the grip on the sides of her throat, feeling her squeeze around him. His thrusts increased in speed, weight bearing down on her to make her feel him everywhere. He wanted her to be engulfed in him.

“Every time you walk in that fucking door, I want to drag you away. Want you hanging off my cock every time I get the urge, because I know you’d love it. Been dirty since day fucking one, dragging me into that poolhouse and making me be a bad father. S’that what gets you off? Fucking your friend’s dad?” He snarled, breathing against her ear as his balls slapped against her cunt, getting them just as wet as he wanted.

“Y-yes, Just you, Daddy. Only ever you.” Her weak reply came out, hand covering his that held her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he gave it to her good, a new level to their activities unlocked. She had peeled back another layer of the man.

“Better have fucking been. But I know you’re a slut. Just for me. S’only ever been just for me. Just like you said, hm? Needed an older man to give it to you and then you got addicted. Poor little girl. Addicted to the one cock you shouldn’t crave.” His faux sadness made her whine, slickness dripping out of her cunt. The sharp thrusts and his tight grip, how she could barely move was one of the best things she had ever experienced.

“It’s mine.” Was what escaped her. The little thing had enough energy to say that, the stimulation to her body and the slap of his balls against her clit driving her dangerously close to her second orgasm of the night.

“Is it? Oh, silly little girl. What a desperate, selfish slut. You want my cock to be all yours?” He grinned against her skin, biting against her neck as he groaned. “It can be. You can have it. Drain me so fucking good, take all my cum so well, hm? S’what you deserve. Be a little set of holes for Daddy to stuff his cum into. You’re so good at it a-already. Fuck.” He hissed as he felt her cunt contracting, close to her orgasm. He could feel it, feel how close he had gotten her.

“You’re going to cum from that? God, look at you. Thought you were such a nice girl when my daughter first brought you home. Now you’re just a pretty cunt for me to cum inside. Think m’gonna keep you, though.” His prick was so wet it almost slipped out as his hips slammed into her, her quivering cunt urging him on. “Think I should make you stay. Should get my cum nice and deep and knock you up. What d’you think?” His grunted words sent her into a squirm, nodding reverently against his hand.

“Yeah- yeah, I’d want it. Can do it, keep me.” She babbled, eyes watering as she felt completely and utterly pathetic. The larger man was giving it to her just how she needed, the lightheadedness of his fingers rhythmically squeezing her neck and his dick fucking her better than any other thing she had felt having her right on the edge.

“Yeah? Gonna take my cum and give me a baby?” He laughed, drunk on pleasure. “That’s it. M’gonna do it. Drain my cum into your pussy and mark you as mine. Let it catch, let you get full of my baby and let everyone fuckin’ know who’s girl you are. F-Fuck, baby.. Please.” He grit out, mouth opening as he felt it. He could feel her falling over the edge, a broken moan escaping her swollen lips as he body squirmed underneath his own.

She gushed around his cock, whimpering out his name as the words and his actions had her falling over the crest. The slick, filthy sound of her drippy cunt being pounded by his cock and the grunts coming from the man above her filled the room as she could feel him finally starting to crack. His arm quivered, cock twitching in her pulsating pussy as he finally unloaded inside of her.

“Oh- oh my god, fuck.” He slurred out against her shoulder, biting down and getting a squeal from her as he growled against her skin. The most feral he’d ever been. His thrusts slowed but didn’t completely stop, Harry hellbent on fucking his cum as well into her as he could. He wanted her filled. Releasing the skin with his teeth, his tongue ran over the bite mark in apology, a grove of whispers growing from his lips.

“There we go. That’s my fucking girl.”

“Took me so good.”

“Wrecking me, m’so obsessed with you.”

“So proud of you.”

“Take such good care of me, sweet girl.”

They were followed with kisses, Harry lazily turning her head and connecting their mouths despite the odd angle as he finally stopped, letting himself stay buried inside of her. He could feel she had drooled a little bit, fueling his ego as he let them both cal down from the aftershocks of their orgasms.

“Mmm.. That’s what I’m talking about.” Y/N giggled tiredly, resting her cheek back against the pillow as he stroked the sweaty hair away from her face. “Told you I wanted you to let loose, that’s what I wanted. My god.” It was so good, she felt drunk. Drunk on good dick, apparnetly.

“Yeah.. well now you’re in trouble.” He mumbled, though the smile on his face indicated it wasn’t seriousl. “Didn’t know I had that in me… But now that I do, you’re the one who’s going to have t’deal with it.” He kissed her cheek, smirking to himself about how it had been so good she had let tears fall. This was a new high for him.

“I better be. We established that I’m yours and you’re mine. If I find out otherwise, m’gonna chop your dick off.”

Harry winced, shaking his head quickly. “No, baby. No. Don’t think I could get hard for anyone else at this point.” It was too true.

This girl had him completely and utterly fucked.

“Let me sit here for a minute and then I’ll take us to clean up. I’ll help you redo all your skin stuff.” He nuzzled against her cheek, placing a few little pecks on the hot skin. “Sorry I ruined it.”

“Trust me- I am never going to be mad at you for that when you fuck me that good.” Y/N snickered. Her heart did swell at the offer though. This man was unreal. “I’d be a fool to complain.”

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peterspinkrobe · 9 months

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Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #priest!miguel #priest au #au fic #across the spiderverse #miguel x you

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luvhughes43 · 3 months

Text

instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following.

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad.

Blondes.

Boobs.

Brunettes.

Canadian University Girls?

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background.

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it.

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list.

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment.

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty.

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship.

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on.

“now she’s hot”

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…”

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,”

“what?”

“jamie, please just drop it”

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy.

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him.

“no,” you respond quickly.

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…”

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk.

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,”

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me”

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased.

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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matan4il · 22 days

Text

Israel Has Created a New Standard for Urban Warfare. Why Will No One Admit It? | by John Spencer

The Israel Defense Forces conducted an operation at al-Shifa hospital in the Gaza Strip to root out Hamas terrorists recently, once again taking unique precautions as it entered the facility to protect the innocent; Israeli media reported that doctors accompanied the forces to help Palestinian patients if needed. They were also reported to be carrying food, water and medical supplies for the civilians inside.

None of this meant anything to Israel's critics, of course, who immediately pounced. The critics, as usual, didn't call out Hamas for using protected facilities like hospitals for its military activity. Nor did they mention the efforts of the IDF to minimize civilian casualties.

In their criticism, Israel's opponents are erasing a remarkable, historic new standard Israel has set. In my long career studying and advising on urban warfare for the U.S. military, I've never known an army to take such measures to attend to the enemy's civilian population, especially while simultaneously combating the enemy in the very same buildings. In fact, by my analysis, Israel has implemented more precautions to prevent civilian harm than any military in history—above and beyond what international law requires and more than the U.S. did in its wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The predominant Western theory of executing wars, called maneuver warfare, seeks to shatter an enemy morally and physically with surprising, overwhelming force and speed, striking at the political and military centers of gravity so that the enemy is destroyed or surrenders quickly. This was the case in the invasions of Panama in 1989, Afghanistan in 2001, Iraq in 2003 and the failed illegal attempt by Russia to take Ukraine in 2022. In all these cases, no warning or time was given to evacuate cities.

In many ways, Israel has had to abandon this established playbook in order to prevent civilian harm. The IDF has telegraphed almost every move ahead of time so civilians can relocate, nearly always ceding the element of surprise. This has allowed Hamas to reposition its senior leaders (and the Israeli hostages) as needed through the dense urban terrain of Gaza and the miles of underground tunnels it's built.

Hamas fighters, who unlike the IDF don't wear uniforms, have also taken the opportunity to blend into civilian populations as they evacuate. The net effect is that Hamas succeeds in its strategy of creating Palestinian suffering and images of destruction to build international pressure on Israel to stop its operations, therefore ensuring Hamas' survival.

Israel gave warning, in some cases for weeks, for civilians to evacuate the major urban areas of northern Gaza before it launched its ground campaign in the fall. The IDF reported dropping over 7 million flyers, but it also deployed technologies never used anywhere in the world, as I witness firsthand on a recent trip to Gaza and southern Israel.

Israel has made over 70,000 direct phones calls, sent over 13 million text messages and left over 15 million pre-recorded voicemails to notify civilians that they should leave combat areas, where they should go, and what route they should take. They deployed drones with speakers and dropped giant speakers by parachute that began broadcasting for civilians to leave combat areas once they hit the ground. They announced and conducted daily pauses of all operations to allow any civilians left in combat areas to evacuate.

These measures were effective. Israel was able to evacuate upwards of 85 percent of the urban areas in northern Gaza before the heaviest fighting began. This is actually consistent with my research on urban warfare history that shows that no matter the effort, about 10 percent of populations stay.

As the war raged on, Israel began giving out its military maps to civilians so they could conduct localized evacuations. This, too, has never been done in war. During my recent visit to Khan Yunis, Gaza, and the IDF civilian harm mitigation unit in southern Israel, I observed as the army began using these maps to communicate each day where the IDF would be operating so civilians in other areas would stay out of harm's way.

I saw that the IDF even tracked the population in real time down to a few-block radius using drone and satellite imagery and cell phone presence and building damage assessments to avoid hitting civilians. The New York Times reported in January that the daily civilian death toll had more than halved in the previous month and was down almost two-thirds from its peak.

Of course, the true number of Gaza civilian deaths is unknown. The current Hamas-supplied estimate of over 31,000 does not acknowledge a single combatant death (nor any deaths due to the misfiring of its own rockets or other friendly fire). The IDF estimates it has killed about 13,000 Hamas operatives, a number I believe credible partly because I believe the armed forces of a democratic American ally over a terrorist regime, but also because of the size of Hamas fighters assigned to areas that were cleared and having observed the weapons used, the state of Hamas' tunnels and other aspects of the combat.

That would mean some 18,000 civilians have died in Gaza, a ratio of roughly 1 combatant to 1.5 civilians. Given Hamas' likely inflation of the death count, the real figure could be closer to 1 to 1. Either way, the number would be historically low for modern urban warfare.

The UN, EU and other sources estimate that civilians usually account for 80 percent to 90 percent of casualties, or a 1:9 ratio, in modern war (though this does mix all types of wars). In the 2016-2017 Battle of Mosul, a battle supervised by the U.S. that used the world's most powerful airpower resources, some 10,000 civilians were killed compared to roughly 4,000 ISIS terrorists.

And yet, analysts who should know better are still engaging in condemnation of the IDF based on the level of destruction that's still occurred—destruction that is unavoidable against an enemy that embeds in a vast tunnel system under civilian sites in dense urban terrain. This effects-based condemnation or criticism is not how the laws of war work, or violations determined. These and other analysts say the destruction and civilian causalities must either stop or be avoided in an alternative form of warfare.

Ironically, the careful approach Israel has taken may have actually led to more destruction; since the IDF giving warnings and conducting evacuations help Hamas survive, it ultimately prolongs the war and, with it, its devastation.

Israel has not created a gold standard in civilian harm mitigation in war. That implies there is a standard in civilian casualties in war that is acceptable or not acceptable; that zero civilian deaths in war is remotely possible and should be the goal; that there is a set civilian-to-combatant ratio in war no matter the context or tactics of the enemy. But all available evidence shows that Israel has followed the laws of war, legal obligations, best practices in civilian harm mitigation and still found a way to reduce civilian casualties to historically low levels.

Those calling for Israel to find an alternative to inflicting civilian casualties to lower amounts (like zero) should be honest that this alternative would leave the Israeli hostages in captivity and allow Hamas to survive the war. The alternative to a nation's survival cannot be a path to extinction.

John Spencer is chair of urban warfare studies at the Modern War Institute (MWI) at West Point, codirector of MWI's Urban Warfare Project and host of the "Urban Warfare Project Podcast." He served for 25 years as an infantry soldier, which included two combat tours in Iraq. He is the author of the book "Connected Soldiers: Life, Leadership, and Social Connection in Modern War" and co-author of "Understanding Urban Warfare."

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Text

Good Dad, Better Daddy (m)

Pairing: Fem!reader x dilf!Mingyu

Genre: smut, angstish

word count: 8.4k

tags: plot rich, age gap, morally gray reader, medical student!reader, mentor!reader, best friend's dad!mingyu, kissing joshua and brief mentions of jeonghan, forced proximity, domestic au, mention of alcohol, spitting, oral (rec.), praise kink, pet names (good girl) pussy spitting, spanking, daddy kink, exhibitionism, face cumming, pearl necklaces, unprotected sex

Summary: you were hesitant when your friend said you should just stay at her house for the summer, especially knowing you can barely contain yourself with her hot dad around as well as the thought of not getting caught.

author note: so this one is real, as promised. its filthy. messy. and dramatic

@shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @onlymingyus

You had a pretty normal taste in men. It wasn’t extraordinary, like he had to be super talented at one thing or had to come from loads of old money. What you envisioned for yourself was a nice man with a humble heart, great taste in food–if he could help it–be fit and find you just as attractive as you find him.

Kim Mingyu, your college friend’s biological father, could not be this man. He could never be this man. Not for the fact that he is unattractive–good heavenly gods and goddesses, how does a man like this exist–because he is just that, incredibly gorgeous and big and tall and hot.

The point is, you’re still looking, and this summer was the perfect time to do that. The problem was that Minhee–the trustworthy underclassmen/good friend/daughter of the infamously hot dad that somehow surfaced all over campus–invited, well insisted, that you stay with her for the remainder of summer break.

You had gotten close with her over the school year as a mentor, working her though pre-med to prepare her for actual medical school, yours specifically since it was best in the whole ding dang country. You just happen to mention your parents lived out of the way and you couldn’t visit them this year, so summer break had been a fleeting thought in your mind. Minhee, irrevocably delightful and considerate, wanted to show thanks for all the time you put into helping her and mention the spare room at her home half an hour away from campus.

The same home with the incredibly gorgeous father of hers that you had the pleasure of meeting once at a college picnic. It was a hot day, and he wore a sleeveless tank top that was transparent from the sweat of several rounds of volleyball, clinging on to him like a thin additional layer of skin. Attention was on him like a single acorn in a field of squirrels, gnawing at the sight of such a specimen with abs and pecs so taut and round you could mistake them for the brioche buns for the grilled burgers you were all having. And now, you are going to have the pleasure of living in close quarters with him. Only God knows how this would go.

“Good seeing you again, Y/n. Need help getting that upstairs?”

Mr. Kim, who urges you to call him Mingyu instead, is pointing out the duffle bag the size of a human being loaded on your back that you physically struggled to carry in. You remember your mom once pointing out how it looked ridiculous strapped to you like that. That was the point mother. It eliminated any potential advances.

You grin back at him with wide, platonically amicable smile, “Nope, all good,” then made your first steps over to the stairs and you can practically feel his presence lingering behind you as you walked up, probably waiting for you to fall so he could catch you in his stupidly large arms.

“Are you sure? I’m all for being a feminist, independence and what not, but I don’t know if I can let a bag that big potentially get you to trip fall down these stairs. Just had them remodeled.” God, his smile was dazzling, and those pretty canines could mark you like a badge you’d wear proudly.

“I’m good, Mr. Kim. Your glossy wood boards are safe under my feet, I promise.”

He scoffs, following you back up the stairs. “What did I tell you about calling me Mingyu, hmm? Plus you’re a guest. Since I’m the one that’s paid off this house, that means something.”

Please. He’s so witty, funny, and charming in addition to being so, so hot. This was going to be a long summer.

You toss the bag on the bed in the room Mingyu had claimed would be your ‘home away from home,’ and you smile at him in gratitude for keeping the peace.

“While I appreciate it, it’s all good. Thank you, though.” You were painfully aware of your hair sticking out in the most unflattering angles, your cheeks warm and face sweaty from climbing up a flight of stairs, and your loud obnoxious pants that could compete with your old neighbor’s golden retriever that had breathing problems. Nope, not even giving him an opportunity to think about any potential of being in bed with him. The question was, were you trying to convince him or yourself?

“Well then, Minhee is with her mom for another hour, so you won’t see her until then. If you’re hungry I could always whip you something up in the meantime. Save you some lunch money.”

Before you could protest, the eruption of thunder in your stomach interrupts you, earning Mingyu your sheepish grin and you one of Mingyu’s know-it-all smiles. “I guess a sandwich or something couldn’t hurt.”

He beckons you with a head tilt. “Come on down, you can help me. We can make something for Minhee before she gets here, too.”

Let’s make things clear. When Kim “DILF” Mingyu asks you to follow him to hell, you follow him to hell. When he offers to make you food, you happily devour it. And when he asks you for help in the kitchen, you tell him “yes, chef,” like you’re his doting little follower. You convince yourself it’s because you grew up with manners in your household. Helping elders was the least you could do. Mingyu, being much older, just naturally fell into that category.

“So, Minhee has only good things to say about you. I can’t thank you enough for helping her.”

He shoves the fabric of his button up to his elbows and proceeds to grab things from top sleeves you wouldn’t otherwise reach, handing you a grater and block of cheese to conjure up some of his famous Kimchi pasta. You’re carefully holding the grater steady by the handle, taking the block from the tip and spreading. “Well, Minhee’s awesome, I can’t thank her enough for being amazing. Getting into medical school was insane for me and she’s just breezing through. You have a very intelligent daughter, Mr. Kim.”

“Mingyu.” He repeats, as if telling you once wasn’t enough.

You shake your head while scrunching your nose. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue for me, sorry.”

Pouting, he glances at you in a light-hearted glare. “Fine. Treat me like a stranger. Eat my food like I’m a personal chef. I'm just Minhee’s old man after all.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips. “Fine. Mingyu. Happy?”

“Much.”

His tone is happy, playfully, yet effortlessly alluring. Especially as he strides your way, standing mere inches away from you to retrieve a bountiful cheese nestling inside the grater, which he scoops up into a bowl to put in his decadent red sauce simmering over the stove. He meets your eyes in a soft gaze, the one that makes you hear music in your head, politely asking, “more please,” and tossing bowel’s contents to the pan.

He wants more cheese, you’d grate more cheese. What you did not intend was a piece of your palm to get caught in the metal. You wince, causing you to drop the cheese grater and hold up your hand to examine the damage.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately comes back to your side and takes your hand in his large grasp, seeing the cut for the first time, fresh with red. “Be more careful, please.”

His eyes crinkle in concern, thumbing over the sensitive layer skin, and releasing a sigh from his lips. Your eyes flutter, startled at his quick return, feeling the tension of his forearms as it brushed against yours. He could’ve not looked more attractive than this very moment and now you were wondering how many accidents you can get yourself into before he starts suspecting they’re intentional.

“I’m okay. Just a bit of a scratch.”

The way his eyes flit back at you in disbelief, almost as if there’s anger in them, and that simple look makes something in your chest do somersaults. “Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding. I’m getting first aid.”

“Mingyu–”

“Sit down, Y/n.”

Why, yes, sir.

You take the seat on the bar stool, watching as Mingyu momentarily turns off the stove and grabs a little red box. He pulls it apart, setting most of the contents on the counter. He treats the cut delicately, quietly, gracefully. Making sure it’s properly clean from infection, he places a bandaid, trapping in the sensitivity.

“Thank you.” You squeak out.

He gives you a soft grin. “Not a problem. Didn’t expect to be babying two girls this weekend.”

Babying. That word lingered in your mind longer than it should have. It invades your brain, crawling into the inner workings of thoughts pushed aside and echoed in your head. It bothered you and you have the faintest idea why.

You snicker humorously. “I’m definitely not a baby.”

He shrugs, smoothing out the adhesive. “Of course not. Not many babies are accomplished enough to graduate cum laude to get into medical school with 4.0 GPA, while building a philanthropy for families that suffered from loss due to the worldwide pandemic.”

You shyly shield away hearing that. You hadn’t expressed that part of your life often with other people. Most of the time, you are found out, having people commend you when the topic is brought up. But you didn’t do it for attention, including Mingyu’s. “Minhee told you that?” You watch for his response, seeing his lips curl up in a foreign method.

“No, she didn’t.”

You shake your head, bemused. “How did you hear that then?”

“I did my own research on you. Making sure you weren’t some kid making Minhee out for a quick buck.”

“And?” You had a feeling there was more to it.

His posture has shifted, expression somewhat twisted, and eyes fixated on you. Like he is undressing you in his head as we speak.

“I wasn’t disappointed.”

A gust of wind expels from your lungs and despite the vagueness in both your words, it’s as if you were speaking your own language. He lets go of your hand, but visibly craves being closer. Cursing his better judgment, he doesn’t take the risk, and instead takes a step back instead. Your arm lunges forward, off your seat and towards Mingyu, and your hand wraps around his forearm. You trail over his expression, cautious and hesitation, and you let a digit impulsively run down his arms, now pebbling in goosebumps under your touch.

“Why do you look scared of me?” you ask, now grinning.

He looks as if he wants to brush off the comment, but his defense fails to let him. “Why would I be scared of you?”

“You tell me, Mr. Kim,” You raise a brow. “Or I’m sorry, Mingyu. Since that is what you like me calling you. Mingyu.”

He scoffs, feeling backed into a corner. The image was funny since he had the very build to do that same, but here he was. Trapped. Being interrogated. None other than a college student only a few years older than his daughter. “Can you blame a guy for wanting to make things less awkward?”

“What is there to be awkward about–I’m not awkward,” you lie through your teeth, pressing a palm to your chest, “Is there something you feel awkward about? Mingyu.”

His name burns on your tongue differently, stark in contrast to its original purpose of dropping formalities. Maybe it could drop pants instead.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Y/n.”

Looks like you’ve hit a nerve.

“I’m simply trying to get to know you better, considering that’s what it sounded like you wanted. Are you trying to get to know me, Mingyu? What things do you want to know?”

His bottom lip drops from the corner of his mouth, blinking back at your taunts in intrigue, and shifts the weight on his legs. He takes the moment to scan you from head to toe, deliberating your question, leaning closer against you until you find your back digging into the marble of the counter. His hands plant on either side of you. His warm breath fans your cheeks, spicy cologne surrounding you at all angles, and he ponders at you from the dark wisps of hairs that fell at his eyes.

“Are you ready for that answer? Truly?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, already caught in those eyes that now trailed over your body shamelessly. He looks at you as if he held back this whole time and has finally let loose of the reins. His hands smoothed over the marble, meeting each other, locking fingers, and trapping you in his careful embrace.

Your hand falls to his first chest, feeling the pure stone beneath the thin layer of fabric on top of him. You let out a shallow breath, eyes roaming over the man you so desperately wished wasn’t constantly in your mind. God, did he feel utterly exquisite.

Your hands trail up the nape of his neck, lifting yourself from your toes, and let your lips ghost over his. Your hot, anxious breath fans his face, and the pulse you feel under your palm heightens. “I think I have a right to know a lot of what you’re not telling me.”

‘Fuck me. Fuck me right now against this counter. I promise I’ll be good. Please lord, give it to me.’

Your wishes aren’t granted when you hear a car pull up and Mingyu immediately backs off, shaking his head like falling out of a trace.

‘No! No! Minhee. What the fuck? What the fuck? I was this close to fucking your dad and I was willing to do so much.’

You internally sob, hearing the beep of the vehicle go off, and a few seconds after a jangle of keys, the door swings open. “The prophetic child had arrived!”

You settle into the marble in defeat. Trying to muster up anything other than disappointment on your face as you watch Mingyu retreat from you and wrap his arms around his daughter. “Took you long enough, kid. Was thinking you forgot about me.”

“How could I even think about leaving the two of you alone in one place? You are embarrassing enough.”

His arm slings over her shoulders, planting an old fashioned noogie on the crown of her head. “Take that back. Say I’m the coolest.”

“Dad, what the heck? You’re so annoying!”

Minhee talks a lot of smack, but she smiles the brightest around her dad. Their smiles couldn’t be any more different, considering she got that from her mom, but you could see a lot of Mingyu in Minhee. Your stomach is now bubbling up in guilt, momentarily grim, before pushing yourself to meet her halfway. “Hi, Minhee.”

“Y/n!” She shoves Mingyu out of the way and grips you with so much force and warmth. “You really came! Gosh, this summer is gonna be so great.”

Minhee takes you aside, switches eyes back and forth from me and her father, chipper like an elf the day after Christmas. “My two favorite people in one summer. Don’t tell mom.”

“Why not,” he joins your embrace, fingers brushing against your bicep making your micro hairs stand stiff on your arm. “It could really bother her with this. I have every mind to.”

“Don’t you dare! Anyway, what's for lunch?”

Mingyu doesn’t pay the slightest attention to you during the meal after what almost transpired in the very place you prepared it. You fork over your food door in contempt, watching their animated conversation long enough to analyze their relationship. Minhee is as easy going as her dad, all smiles and radiance, and while Mingyu was well into his age, it doesn't appear so as he emits this natural youth that seems to combat age better than that of the most expensive, luxurious cream on the market. He aged incredibly. Even the smell of fermented cabbage couldn’t bring disdain to his presence.

“Hope dad’s been nice. He can be a lot.”

You’re pulled away from your thoughts and you smile back at the younger girl, not letting it reach near your eyes. “Oh, he’s been…inviting.”

Mingyu clears his throat at that, hands giving out in a slight tremble as he reaches over to retrieve his beverage.

“Probably overly inviting. He has a habit of that, but that is usually what scares the bad ones away. He’s always given my ex-boyfriends this illusion of comfort and hospitality, but then rips them apart when they say anything remotely critical about me.” She playfully shudders, “he can go psycho.”

“I am right here, darling daughter.”

“Good, because you needed to hear it.”

You chuckle in amusement, feeling honored you get to witness such a wholesome relationship. Their familial interactions eventually come to an end and dishes are gathered to get washed. You volunteer yourself to help, reasoning with the Kims that you were a grateful guest living here for free, and that this was the least you could do.

“Not with your cut.” Mingyu points out.

Minhee’s eyes shoot open at you. “You got a cut?”

“It’s fine,” you reassure, “I’ll wear gloves. Why don’t you get the movie ready that you’ve been wanting to watch?”

“I actually thought of taking us out, if that’s okay. We should spend the first night out, not at home. Silly.”

“Oh?”

You hadn’t thought about leaving the house much, only expecting a few dinners out when the night prompted, but it was a Thursday afternoon. What much was there to do on a hot summer weekday? What was even open?

“There's just this place I wanted to check out since getting back into town and I just know you would love it. Please?”

You were actually really hoping to finish that moment again with Mingyu, calling in a bathroom break when you’re really having him rail you down the stairs with his hand clamped over your mouth. “Sure. Why not? We deserve it.”

Minhee claps with joy. “Great! I’m gonna get ready.”

The girl makes her excited steps up the stairs, the thumps of her feet distancing from earshot as you come up over the sink. You pull the gloves over your forearm as warm water runs down the rubber. “I guess I should hurry up and get ready too.”

You peer at Mingyu from the corner of your eyes. For the first time, an unreadable expression is on his face, and he’s taken over in silence. He thinks to walk over, hovering his footing, and gradually approaching you in a smooth stride. “You girls have fun.”

That was a strange response considering your moment together. You direct your body to him, “Um, Mingyu, are you acting strange becau–”

“We should let what happened not come between us. Just a fleeting moment. Natural with two adults. You understand.”

With that he walks away from you, only having his back into view as tracks his way back to his room, leaving you abandoned, horny, ashamed.

Fuck it. You will have a good time.

As soon as you and Minhee were both ready, you’d have a great time out, and you’d make sure of it. You leave the house together, punching the thought of Mingyu away and enjoy drinks at the new bar located a short drive from her place. The atmosphere is lively and well and the drinks, although pricey, were delicious nonetheless.

The occasional image of Mingyu mere centimeters away from you would appear in your head and with that, you immediately swallow down your drink, drowning him until it’s a blur. It helps that Minhee liked talking, and you dind’t mind in the slightest. She was good company, one of the many reasons you like being around Minhee. It seems that you weren’t the only one to agree as you swarmed by company.

They introduced themselves as Jeonghan and Joshua, two gentlemen that planned on scoping out the location to see how it competes with theirs, evidently poaching new clientele. They urge both you and Minhee to visit their place another time, persuading you with a few free drinks and perks they were willing to give. You looked back at Minhee, seeing the same temptation in her eyes you felt in yourself, and you accepted, letting them know you’d be coming.

The rest of the time is a blur–enjoying the presence of the music, eating, drinking, enjoying your first night out in a long time–and you feel a body against yours. You turn your head to see Joshua, finding the warmth of his strong, thick body lost in yours. You indulge, feeling the sweet release of liquor on your tongue and allowing him to roam your body with no protest.

You let a few moans slip, his hand automatically creeping over your waist. He grins angelically, but him on you feels like a constant devil on your shoulder. “You’ll make it, right? I’ll only come into work that night for you.”

You giggle like he said the funniest thing in the world, turning to face him and putting your hands over his shoulders, staring into his big eyes. “I promise.”

He holds you close that night, like Mingyu should’ve, but it does not breach the point of dancing. You appreciated that. When the night came to a close, you and Minhee got your UBER home. You wave away that kept you both company tonight and come back to Kim's residence a little lighter. Mingyu was nowhere in sight when you got home, so you drag Minhee up the stairs before that happens.

It takes a minute to wash her up, but eventually she gets into bed, and falls into a peaceful slumber. You were ready to have your turn. Peeling off your clothes, washing your face, and showering everything off was going to feel like a reset. You weren’t going to let the disappointment from today dictate the rest of your summer. Kim Mingyu was not why you came here. You were here to have the time of your life with your closest friend.

Walking out in the hallway to retrieve toiletries and extra clothes, there he stood. Shirtless–of course, he was–tan, taut, large. This man was a fucking mountain. He drags himself over to you in his gray sweats. “You’re both home late.”

“Night got away, sorry.” You weren’t sorry.

“As long as you’re both safe,” he grins kindly, “How's your hand?”

You bring it up in the air for him to see. “Perfectly fine. Didn't even feel it.”

Doubtful, he gets to grab it, ignoring your feeble protest. He turns it from front to back, stepping closer to you, shooting electricity throughout your body. The longer he lingers in your proximity, another one of his senses takes over. Nose stifling breaths, he’s leaning in, inhaling the scent on your body. You feel heat running up to your cheeks, flustered by his sudden urgency. “Do you always wear men’s cologne?”

Confusion displays on your face. You pick up the top hem of your blouse for a quick sniff and there it was, the scent he was referring to. Some concoction of sea breeze and sage lightly coated your clothes. Must’ve been Joshua. “Probably caught it from someone from the bar we went to.”

“You met someone?” He asks plainly.

You shrug, an unsure smile on your face. “I don’t know.”

There’s an unreadable look on his face you catch until it turns solemn, dropping your hand. “Get some rest.”

He trots off to his own room, his dark figure shrinking as he gets further away. You take a long sigh the moment he’s gone from sight, wallowing in that sinking sensation of knowing what had happened this afternoon. The position you place yourself in, the position he placed himself, was over.

After showering, you went to bed hoping the next day would be better. You shouldn’t have been sad. You had a decent night. Drank loads, danced all night long, mingled with people you don't feel guilty about. And tomorrow will be a new day.

Morning is spent with a Kim’s style breakfast, which means an abundance of anything they can make with leftover ingredients from the kitchen. Mingyu was bright and early along with Minhee, and she didn’t look like she lost one hour of sleep that night. She greets you as friendly as always and Mingyu follows.

You join the meal in silence, playing off as recovering from the night before–which wasn’t wrong–and eat your portion, feeling it fuel the unruly mood you were in. Damn, he was a good cook.

“You girls have anything fun to do today?”

Minhee answers with utter delight. “I’m taking Y/n to this other bar we were recommended last night.”

You nod in compliance with that.

“Well, if that’s all, why don’t we go grocery shopping? I’ve been setting all kinds of guest stuff at the house but forgot to stock up the fridge. You and Y/n can pick out whatever you need. I’ll pay.”

You look up, stopping him. “You don’t have to do that.”

He shares that kind of look he gives when he’s in front of his daughter, but a ghost of the lusty gaze was still fresh in your mind. “I’m not forcing myself to do anything. Just hoping to be a welcoming host. Think of it as a family outing. You get to be one of us.”

Minhee snorts at that. “Could you be anymore of a dad?”

“So what I’m hearing is you don’t want free snacks and sodas to have at the house?” He reiterates in hopes of tempting her.

“Well, I didn't say that.”

Mingyu laughs, turning back to you. “So?”

“Sure.” You respond with a forced smile.

Minhee made no concern about making a dent in Mingyu’s wallet and if he minded, he didn’t show it. You figured with the big house they have that this would be no different from a kid in a candy store seeing her spring everywhere and excited to show you local products only sold at this specific market. You would giggle at anything and all comments she’s made coming across something out of the ordinary and Mingyu would trail behind with his full cart like the dad he is.

“Oh my god, I think I just saw someone! You and dad, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Minhee trots off by herself, leaving you and Mingyu alone again in your awkward silence. Having nothing to say, you didn’t, and you assumed he wouldn’t either.

“I don’t want things to be weird,” he starts, “it was a lapse of judgment on my part.”

“Mingyu, please,” you whisper, “she’s ten feet away from us.”

“And I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he leads the cart so he’s walking beside you, towering over you like the skyscraper he was, “Coming on to you wasn’t the plan. Minhee respects you, cares about you. And why wouldn’t she? You’re amazing.”

You shirt under his words, dismissing it when you throw a family size bag of ruffle chips in the car. “Been wanting these.”

“I’m just sorry. I’ve clearly bothered you, disrespected you, and I didn’t intend for any of that.”

“Why are you saying this now,” you ask in a hushed tone, causing him to stop the wheels, “what are you even doing?”

He sighs, dropping his head in embarrassment, unsure either, but it seems as if he wanted to clear the tense air. You appreciated it. Most men that have done way more than what he did would’ve flat out ignored you regardless of the situation. Ghosting became a globalized norm. Mingyu’s confrontation, although stress-inducing, was somewhat refreshing. Different from previous men you’ve had relations with, platonic or not.

“Minhee is the most important thing in my life and you are someone very special to her, more than you know.”

You nod in agreement, understanding his sentiment. “She’s special to me. My best friend even.”

Mingyu sighs in relief. “So, we’ll forget what we had happened?”

“Forget what happened?” You grin in the end.

He smiles back, looking up as Minhee reunites with you and you feel as if things are back to normal. Minhee is still your closest friend. Mingyu is just her hot dad. And that’s it. That was that. You were fine thinking that for the rest of the summer.

The rest of the day was all leisure right up until the evening. As the light outside dimmed, You and Minhee were getting ready to go out again. The attire was slightly more done up than the previous night, boosting your confidence. You added a dark shadow paired with tighter clothes and Minhee couldn’t help but gush at your appearance. Loving this girl was too easy. You trade her the same excitement and bounced together in the anticipation of another exciting night.

You followed her downstairs, ready to leave, and Mingyu the last thing you see before you make your way to the door. “Have fun! Be safe.”

Leaving with a new life on lease, that seems to change when catch a glimpse at his face shutting the door. The darkness in his eyes, how they scan from up and down your body in a swift lick, burned in your memory. And you once again feel that feeting excitement he graced you once with.

You made good on your promise to the guys from the other night, and they were one of the first few faces you see as you enter. You join them, getting the free drinks they swore to give and experience more of the night life. Compared to the previous bar, this had been much more lively, rowdy, touchy. You made sure to be careful, carrying both your and Minhee’s drinks with hands hovering over their open lips. Minhee gathers her less than sober self to go to the restroom, insisting there's no need for you to come and that’d she’d be fine.

“Are you sure?” you ask in concern, and she repeats herself, pointedly shifting her eyes to the man behind you in mischief as she makes her escape.

Joshua meets your side similarly to last night, grinning that gorgeous grin, looking back at you with those pretty brown eyes, and large hands traveling over your body in a practiced-movement. “I was happy to see you came.”

“Oh?” you smile back, hands over his neck.

The small distance between you both leaves so little to the imagination and feeds some of that intimacy you’ve craved since coming to this part of town. You don’t look at him to know he wants you. From the way he cradles your sides, coming down‌ your shape, to how his hips lightly dip back to yours sensually, generously. You press up to his body in need, believing you want it too, but when you test your limits, you’re faced with reality.

The moment your lips meet, you hope to feel something–anything–but in the back of your mind a voice taunts you. It laughs back at you. Pressing the big red X button like it was broadcasted talent show.

It was a nice kiss. Somewhat decent, with nothing inherently wrong with it. But it didn't leave you wanting more.

‘He could never be him.’

You part from him abruptly and‌ in a few words of apology he understood, stepping back with a small smile. How you wish it could’ve been him. It would’ve been so much easier if it were him.

You go off to find Minhee, searching for her up and down. Going to the restroom couldn’t have taken that long, then there she was, dancing on the small stage right by the DJ. Everyone cheered for her as she did her performance, as did you, but it all came to a close as she tumbled right off, hitting the ground and landing on her side.

“Minhee!”

No limps were broken, no twisted ankle, or broken ribs, but drunk off her rocker, and it's proven true as you hear her slurring her words. You lightly slap sides of her face to gain back her consciousness. Not even seeing her flinch, you knew she was long gone.

“You probably get her back home safe in bed,” Jeonghan says stepping in.

You conceded, apologizing another time this night for things that should’ve been in your control. Mingyu was going to hate you for this, but you needed her home safe.

You wave at the male duo and a few other friends you made from the cab and tend to Minhee as she loses to sleep. You amble on to carry her weight back to the house, shuffling through her keys to reach past the door. Making too much noise and taking too long to find the right key, it open from teh other side, meeting Mingyu who stares back at you with startled eyes.

“What happened to her?”

There’s a calm fury in his voice, and guilt festers in the pit of your stomach. “Help, please. I’m sorry.”

He comes to Minhee’s other side, grumbling to himself as he helps guide her upstairs. She drops on her bed in heavy plop, her snores following. You both tiptoe towards the door and shut it quietly, not wanting to disturb her.

“Now, I repeat, what the hell happened?”

He had every right to be angry. You did this, you could’ve prevented this.

He lets you a deep exhale, quietly shouting his daughter's name in anguish. “Minhee, what the fuck?”

“She drank too much,” you admit, “She left to go to the restroom. I should’ve gone with her.”

“You think? You both could’ve gotten severely hurt, or worse.”

“Mingyu, I'm so sorry.”

He takes a moment of silence. “It’s not entirely your fault. Minhee overexerts herself sometimes. forces her to let loose twice as hard to make up for it. I wonder if I taught her that.”

“No, of course not. I'm her best friend. I should’ve kept an eye on her.”

“You were there to have fun, not babysit. Look, Minhee may be that right now but it’s because I couldn’t support her properly, because of me she has developed these unhealthy habits.” he sighs. “Though, after the divorce, I wonder if I was ever a good father.”

You tug at him in disbelief. “You’re a great dad! Minhee loves you so much. She talks about you all the time. “

His gaze softens, pulling lightly at his t-shirt, “She does?”

“Yes, like how you cook for her on sick days so that she recovers twice as fast. Or when she was little, she made a scrapbook out of the little lunch notes you made her. Or when you confronted her boyfriend at that picnic, getting in his face and yelling at him. Yeah, she was embarrassed, but she was more relieved that it got out there at all. You are the person she loves the most. You’re so amazing and sweet and kind…Mingyu, I don’t want to forget about yesterday.”

His eyes harden at your shift of tone. “Y/n, you promised–”

“Yeah, well, that was before yesterday when I didn’t think I had a chance with someone like you.”

You draw yourself closer to him, closing the gap, feeling him fall weak for a moment, reciprocating. His lips were plush and sweet as you hoped, stark in contrast to his firm torso you felt through his shirt. He pulls away, holding you at a distance.

“Y/n, we can’t—“

“I kissed someone tonight.”

He immediately tenses up, his hand overlapping around your wrist, speaking in a lethally soft voice. “What?”

“We danced, got super close, and we kissed.”

The moment you mention it, Mingyu immediately smells it. The dreaded cologne. He takes it in once again and grits his teeth in anger. Jealously quickly become a evil on his shoulder. “Same bastard?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “but I wanted him to be you. I can't stop thinking ab—“

His lips fits over yours, his hand pressing into the arch of your back. He kisses you with so much carnal rage you can taste blood on your tongue and he launches you from the ground and around his waist. You dig your fingers into his scalp, kissing him deep, whimpers leaving your lips like a needy puppy.

“Not here,” he quickly states, before carrying you off to a room at the end of the hall. Fuck, was this a large house.

Once the door locks behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights in the almost pitch black of night, he takes your lips to feel his unadulterated power as he pins you to a wall. “Mingyu—“

“I’m not speaking to you, so you can forget about hearing a response.”

With much struggle, he pulls your panties out, or should you say tears it off of you as it drops tattered to the ground. That was fine. You can buy a million pieces of underwear, but there was only one Kim Mingyu. His pants fall abandoned on the ground, revealing his cock gloriously rock hard below you, looking even aesthetically beautiful with the moonlight peeking out from the window.

“You can speak now. Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?” he asks menacingly, almost daring you to answer.

“Yes, Mingyu, please fuck me.”

He leverages you on the wall, fishing a condom out of a nearby drawer. Rolling it on, he lines it against your slit before he makes himself known. Your eyes roll back at the stretch, fingers digging into his shoulder as he bounces you on his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.”

Mingyu throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you.

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrived from it, came to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

He pays your climax no mind, pushing you off the wall and pushing you into the sheets face down. You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“You can look, but remember. Stay quiet. Got it?”

You nod back, obeying, biting into the duvet.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the bed. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could've been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into the rubber. The moment he pulls out, it’s over. It’s truly over. You knew it’d happen that way but the pain didn’t feel any less real.

“Wash up and get to bed before Minhee sees.”

The door shuts and once again, you’re all alone.

In that shower, you sob, washing away the remaining grime, filth, guilt. And after everything that’s happened, you still hoped he’d fuck you like that again.

The next few days goes by and you don’t get that opportunity again. Instead, Minhee took up most of your days. You’d go to the market, watch movies, meet her friends and make them your own, grabbing take out and dinner reservations until you’ve scoured every part of town. And Mingyu, well, he’s staying on the sidelines, observing, never mentioning the your night of intimacy.

You hide it through smiles, good food, good company, but you dying on the inside, thinking to yourself how things got this way.

You missed his body, his warmth, his cock fucking you recklessly, not caring if he breaks you. The guilt you had once for betraying Minhee deteriorated over time, replaced with Mingyu, and just Mingyu.

That’s then you made an opportunity. You just need Minhee out. Calling up the friends you made in the area, you arranged a time and place she'd be for an extended time without you. Your reason for staying in: medical program information. You expected her to understand, and once you told her, you were proven right.

She left as soon as your mutual friend had arrived, waving you off as she entered the car. An unsuspecting smile on her face before she closes the car door. What she won’t know won’t hurt her.

Now was the moment to put it to action. You’d have it that Mingyu couldn’t run, couldn’t avoid you, couldn’t ignore you. And you only had a few minutes until he got back from his run.

Hastily, you slip out of your modest clothes before getting into a skimpy one, deliberately showing off your assets. You take your place on the couch to wait, using channel surfing as a way to pass time.

Hearing the sound footsteps coming up the front door made your heart race, immediately going to position yourself at the entrance. When Mingyu opens to see you on the other side, he could hear his heart drop at your ensemble. His eyes fell immediately at every tiny piece of clothing barely covering you body, feeling his member harder quickly. He quickly shuts the door before anyone else can see what he’s forced to and glares at you. “What is this?”

“Welcome home, Mr. Kim.” you answer cheekily.

“Ming—where’s Minhee?” He shoulders past you, getting to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Out,” you answer, bouncing behind him shamelessly, “I told her I had something to do while she’s gone so I could stay behind.”

“Do what,” he grits, slamming the plastic bottle on the counter, “lie to her, do something that might hurt her behind her back?”

It stings, it really did, but you lacked more morals than you realized.

“It was the only way I could get you alone.” you step in front of him, twiddling your fingers.

“What is it you want, Y/n? Haven’t you done enough to me?”

You blink at him knowingly, thinking how dare he could play a victim. “You know better than anyone that it was a two-person job. We both wanted it.”

He rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Well, it was a mistake, and I should’ve quit while I was ahead.”

“I want more, Mingyu.”

He squeezed his eyes tight, slamming the empty bottle to the floor before responding, “Why are you being like this? What is wrong with you?”

He’s angry and rightfully so, but you wanted him, so badly you’d fight for it. No one–not even Minhee–at this point could stop you.

You latch on to him, not missing his lips. You pull yourself against his sweaty, musky form until you can feel the outline of his body on yours. He forces himself to pull away with a rough tug. There’s a moment of bizarreness on his face before giving in and reconnecting your lips, furiously kissing you as he places you on the kitchen counter. His tongue is quick to find yours and pulling your top over your breasts to play with them, squeezing them harshly in his hand before tweaking your stiff peaks between his fingers.

“Mmh, daddy…please, please fuck me.”

Mingyu pauses, returning twice as rough, pressing into the sopping core that seeps out your shorts, eliciting a whine from your end. The waistband of his sweats grinds into you like he’s a machine: starved, automated, merciless.

“You want me to fuck that bad? Hmm?” He tucks your legs around him, digging in you deeper, slapping the skin of your thigh that reached your ass. “You’re gonna be a good‌ for me to use? Let me fill you up with my cock?”

“Yes, I want your cock fucking me, please,” you plead in a high-pitched voice.

“Fine. This time and never again.” he lifts you off the counter and takes you to his room. Dumping you in bed, he pulls his muscle tank off and rips off your shorts from your body.

Right then and there, he claims the heat between your legs after spitting right into the center. He devours you, jaw gripping from the underside of your folds as his tongue runs rampant in your core. His face is damp in the matter of seconds, but your nectar is all he can think about as he fists his erection through his sweatpants.

“Daddy, your mouth is so good…you’re eating me so good.”

A hand comes on the skin of your thigh again, coming as both a warning and encouragement. He gets lost in you, inhaling you, falling weak at you. He swore he never would again. He’s already done enough thinking about you from that one picnic. The way your hair bounces in the light or how your clothes hug your body as a gust of wind blows past you. You radiated such light in stark contrast to the weak, needy beauty before him. It was on so many levels wrong, but he pointed it to all factors of being sex deprived. Of course, it was normal to find a younger attractive woman sexy. She was an adult, but wasted on him finding out how closely you work with his kid, the kids he loves so much and would kill for.

But you. God, damn it, you. He wanted you just for a second and he took it, only for you to come back wanting more. A mirror image of himself. Unlike his initial findings, he has more in common with you than he thought.

“I’m close daddy!”

His tongue runs faster, harder, feeling the taste of your core go from one taste to another, feeling the cum coat his mouth like liquid gold. With a last jerk to your legs, he moves over to tower at you, prying your mouth open and dropping your fluid in your mouth, seeing it seep out of the corner of your lips before kissing you. He drags the taste around, gripping you by the chin, grunting in your mouth.

He kicks off his sweats, pulling you up by the arm, and allows you to straddle his lap. His cock prods at your stomach, flicking back at the soft section of your stomach. You run your fingers through hair, hovering on top of him, mere atoms away from putting him in you. You had the mind to ask breathlessly, “Condom?”

“I’d have to get up.”

A quick moment of panic runs through your mind. “I’m clean, but–”

“I’ll pull out. And cum anywhere else.”

You take a hard gulp, but give a definite nod. Not letting go of his embrace, allow the round tip to slide over your wet slit–sweet mewls leaving your lips–before you let your walls hug around his raw girth. Initially frightening, given that you weren’t willing to take this kind of risk before–you were a med student and staying safe and clean was rule one–but every inch cover around your walls stretches euphorically.

You let out an anguished moan adjusting to his size, but with how wet you are, it wouldn’t be a problem for long. You roll your hips down, taking him all of him, incomprehensive mumbles leaving your lips while taking strikes against your ass, stinging with every touch. “Being such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you…”

He squeezes the flesh of your cheek, teeth pulling on the bottom of your lip. “It’s my pleasure, daddy…”

God, you loved it, every second.

Minutes passed and he’s only pushed harder, plunge deeper, filling in that crevice of yours until you’re spent all over his bed. He bruises you, bites you, swelling your skin. He finally let go of all the inhibitions that once held him back. That’s when he gets close, cursing under his breath. You fall back on the bed as he pulls out, thick white ribbons shooting thin in the air to cascade over your face and chest, even on your tongue. He pants hard, unable to tear away from the decadent view he’s witnessing. You are usually lovely beyond compare, but you were absolutely breath-taking adorned by his cum.

He had to have more of you.

Although he told himself it’d be the last, that was far from the truth. Since that day, he took every opportunity to have you and without a word of defiance against you. You had your days with Minhee: breakfast, brunch, lunch, sometimes dinner. But he had you at nights, or at days the house was empty. He made it last. All of it. All of you.

Eventually, as school started up again, you’d have to leave, and he gave you one last moment in the shower to commemorate it, putting an end to this summer fling.

Despite missing Mingyu, you were excited to get back on track. You set your back in your newly leased apartment, smiling back at the memories you’ve made in the time you were away. As you were putting away the last of the things from your disgustingly big sack, your phone goes off, Minhee’s name brightly lit on the screen.

“Hey, Minhee. I just got in,” you greet grinning.

“Aw, that’s good. I think you left something behind, though.”

“Shoot,” You shuffle through your belongings, trying to think what that thing could be. “What did I leave?”

“Hard to tell, I think it’s…the truth?”

Your eyes shoot open at the sudden hostility in her voice. “Minhee, I—“

“Are you fucking my dad, you bitch?”

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sinnful-darling · 6 months

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yan! zombie hcs

cw : gore, parasitic infection, zombie apocalypse, zombies are a tw on their own, confining, infection, non-con somno mentions but nothing descriptive, kinda pervy zombie if you squint

— yan! zombie who hadn’t known you at all pre-apocalypse. they were a shut in degenerate who, despite their appearance, was actually pretty cleanly and organized. they only went out to obtain groceries and to their weekly therapy appointments.

— yan! zombie who, when the apocalypse started, was fucking ecstatic. no more work! no more social interaction! no more paying bills! but their excitement would only last so long.

— yan! zombie who, within the first month had to leave their apartment to scavenge for food and first aid supplies. they’d watched enough youtube videos and how to’s to know what to get. but, upon leaving their apartment, they realized that maybe a zombie apocalypse wasn’t so great after all.

— yan! zombie who ran into a hoard on their way back to their apartment, and unable to defend themselves they were bitten in several places. they were able to push their way through the hoard (not without sustaining further injury) and reach their apartment, bleeding heavily and littered in bitemarks.

— yan! zombie who fought like hell to resist the virus even though they knew it was futile, causing the strain to mutate and develop further.

— yan! zombie who succumbs to the virus after hiding away in their room and feeding into their miseries, wrappers and bloodied bandages surrounding them.

— yan! zombie who, thanks to the virus mutating, is able to think semi-clearly, but has lost the ability to speak and write. they still have full control over their limbs as well.

—yan! zombie who hears someone enter their apartment and finds their mouth watering. they’ve never fed before! how wonderful, their prey has walked right into their grasp!

— yan! zombie who finds you scavenging in their apartment. they’re immediately hypnotized by your presence, watching as you scour their supplies and as your nose scrunches at their odor.

“ew… it smells like something’s died in here…”

— yan! zombie whose viral instincts demand they take you as their mate. they can feel the virus taking over their mind as they take you by surprise and render you unconscious.

— yan! zombie who ties you up with some sheets they tore apart and watches you as you rest. you were just so fascinating and lovely. and you smelled so good too! surely a bite wouldn’t hurt…

— yan! zombie who doesn’t bite you, and instead goes off to hunt, returning with chunks of flesh in their teeth hours later.

— yan! zombie who, upon their return, finds you in a panicked state. your eyes meet theirs and… now you’re thrashing..

— yan! zombie who grunts and stalks off to grab you some food, head hanging low and cursing having been turned into one of the undead. they return with an armful of snacks and drops to their knees in front of you, slowly opening the wrappers.

— yan! zombie who feeds you, upset at how much you were squirming in the beginning. it seemed that you were allowing them to feed you thankfully! they cant have their mate becoming malnourished :))

— yan! zombie who you slowly warm up to, quietly talking to and explaining what you needed them to get on their trips to the outside world. it was kinda nice being provided for..

— yan! zombie who becomes your friend. they mimic your speech patterns and relearns how to speak, causing their strain to mutate further.

— yan! zombie whose flesh starts to mend itself, taking an unnatural, almost translucent color. their veins turn an inky black and they find themselves releases something similar to pheromones that wards off other undead.

— yan! zombie who feels a painful sensation in their nether regions when they find something you do attractive (which is everything) and has to remove themselves.

— yan! zombie who gives into their instincts while you’re sleeping, careful not to wake you.

— yan! zombie who turns you once they feel like they can’t wait any longer. you need to be together forever! they’ll take care of you, so just be patient while their strain rots your brain <33

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sailoryooons · 1 year

Note

Request: Alpha Yoongi x omega reader. Werewolves. Smut and fluff. Dom Yoongi and sub reader. Starting with non-sexual dominance like her kneeling at his feet. Then, kind of a fear/primal chase in the woods as foreplay. Smut. And then aftercare with nesting.

❀ Pairing: Alpha Werewolf!Yoongi x Omega werewolf! F. reader

❀ Summary: Your alpha wants to go on a hunt through the woods. Who are you to deny him?

❀ Word Count: 8,727

❀ Genre: A/b/o, werewolves, supernatural, established relationship

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: I have never used the word scent and smells this much in my life please forgive me for I have used it a million times, alpha/omega dynamics, Yoongi chasing through the reader for fun, light predator/prey play, sexually explicit content including unprotected sex (f. receiving), breeding kink, mention of ruts, oral sex (f. receiving) not a lot of foreplay, a ton of being in subspace and hormone drunk, reader is pretty much a pillow princess/borderline free use for Yoongi, a lot of slick and soft dom Yoongi/sub reader, hint at aftercare and nesting

❀ Published: April 11, 2023

❀ A/N: Hi okay so I re-wrote this like three times because every time I did it, I wasn’t getting what I wanted out of filling this request, but I think I finally have something that I am happy with! It went in a little bit of a different place, but I hope that you like it! I am super unused to writing werewolves and a/b/o and I had such a good time dipping my toe in - it’s something I want to write in the future where I have some room to world build and go crazy on word count hehehe. Enjoy!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Milestone Event Request Fill |

Trees flash by you as you run, hands pumping at your sides, heart thundering in your chest. A pack of rabbits startle as you run by, bolting into their little dens. The earth is damp beneath your feet, still saturated with morning rain. You almost loose your footing more than once as you spring over a fallen tree, dry-rotted and full of ants.

The pine trees are packed tight, shafts of moonlight painting the forest floor in spotlights of silver as you run. The low-hanging branches catch you on your flight, needles stinging your skin but not drawing blood. Still, you snarl as a branch cracks under your barefoot, sending a sharp pang through your sole.

You don’t stop, moving blindly toward the south of your territory. You don’t look over your shoulder to see where he is - you don’t need to. Even with a small head start, Yoongi is far faster than you are, and you swear the land changes at his command, putting tangled vines where you don’t remember them being, adding a hole to trip you up as you sprint through the trees.

Yoongi isn’t magic, of course. He cannot change the lay of the land any more than you can, but he walks among these trees and hills every night. Plus, you’re frantic in your runaway, your human instincts bluring, somewhere between wolf and person.

Run, little omega, Yoongi had whispered, pupils blown out, scent heady and hypnotizing. You’d only just come through the door to find him standing in the living room on the edge of pre-rut. Run and don’t let me catch you.

Except Yoongi is going to catch you. You can hear the squirrels in the trees chattering angrily at him as he crashes through the woods behind you. He doesn’t have to be quiet - he is the top of the food chain here, he has nothing to fear. And neither do you, really. You’re a predator too, a wolf born and bred in these woods.

There is only a single thing you are prey to and he is laughing manically behind you as he hunts you down.

Movement to your right catches your eye. Yoongi’s trying to cut you off, coming from the west of the woods to intercept you as you scramble south. You snarl and change direction, swerving southeast to put distance between the two of you.

“Ah, come on, omega!” he hollers behind you, voice closer than you expect. You move faster, desperate to outrun him.

This far south of your house is a ravine. You know that if you slide down the side and run east, you’ll end up in Jungkook’s territory. A place your’e definitely not allowed to go, especially right now. You throw caution to the wind anyways, making a line for the ravine, singularly focused on making the slide down.

You never make it, Yoongi slamming into your side and knocking you off your feet. You scream as you go down hard, but not hard enough to do more than jar your bones. Yoongi takes the brunt of your fall; you pressed against his chest, his back hitting the ground hard before he rolls.

Gasping for breath, you claw at him, scraping to move from where he has you pinned. He laughs, catching your hands in one fist and slamming them above your head. His grip and the sound of him snarling your name has you snap to attention, going boneless.

Yoongi is panting heavily against you, filling your space with his scent. Your eyes flutter as your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath. Every inhale has your sense flooding with Yoongi’s scent: pine and sage, edged with something heaver and muskier.

Alpha near rut.

It makes your head spine and for a second, your vision of him goes a little blurry. He lets go of your hands but you don’t move. He knows you won’t, pinned under the heavy weight of him as he straddles your waist, sitting on you.

Blinking the heaviness from your eyes, you look up at him and it feels like the world stops.

Yoongi’s round face is framed by dark, black hair. It’s a little damp with sweat, clinging to his brow bone. His feline eyes are sharp and wild, pupils dilated with the frenzy of the hunt. A single, dark scar mars his right eye. You used to feel a pang of guilt looking at it, a reminder of what being an alpha had cost him.

Now, though, you think of it fondly. You’ve traced it hundreds of times with your fingers, know every smooth and knotted surface of the injury. Yoongi is beautiful with and without it, lips glossy as his tongue darts out to wet them.

“You smell so good,” Yoongi growls, leaning down. You hold your breath as he leans toward your neck, nosing the scent gland there. Stars burst behind your eyes and you shiver underneath him, let out a whimper. He laughs, the sound low and scratchy in your ear. “Could smell you all the way from the house.” Yoong’s hands runs down your hips, skirts your thigh, and slips between your legs. He presses his fingers against your jeans. “Could smell this perfect little cunt for miles.”

A high-pitched whine leaves you as Yoongi presses harder, fingers providing the barest amount of friction. The ache between your legs is growing painful, your stomach twisting in arousal in response to the smell of him, the touch of him. An omega responding to their alpha in pre-rut, nearly on the brink of instrictual frenzy.

Forming coherent thoughts is difficult, especially when you’re mind is in a state that’s more wolf than human. That’s the struggle with werewolves, toeing the line between human and animal. Instinct and choice. Your body does not choose to respond to him on a chemical level, but you don’t mind. It’s Yoongi. Your Yoongi. Your mate.

“I told you not to get caught.”

You huff, irritation stoking you. He mouths at your throat over your gland, making you nearly pass out. “You’re faster than I am.”

“That isn’t true.”

Yoongi distracts you with a wet, hot lick over your mating mark. You let out a loud moan, not even trying to hide it this time. He laughs as you squirm under him, silenced when he growls your name. “Is that true, omega?” He asks, mouthing at your jaw. You can hardly understand his line of questioning as your thoughts and feelings blur. “Am I really faster than you?”

For a few moments, you don’t respond. Everything feels heightened, the sound of Yoongi’s voice buzzing against the corner of your mouth as he brushes his lips across your skin, not kissing you exactly. You’re hyper-aware of the smell of him, threatening to drive you into madness. Feel the way his hips press to against yours.

“Omega.” Yoongi’s voice is final.

“No,” you admit. “You’re not faster than me.”

“So you let me catch you?”

“I thought about it.” Yoongi nose bumps yours. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth barely touches yours and you speak against his lips, “But then I decided I wanted to win.”

“And you were running to Jungkook’s hmm?” You wince and he hums, knowing he’s right. “Bad omega. Little wolves running into another alphas territory while they’re being hunted isn’t a very good idea, huh?”

“Would you have followed?”

“Of course I would. You’re mine. I would follow you into a fucking fire. Little Jungkookie’s territory is nothing.”

It’s a simple declaration, but you know what it means for an alpha to boldly claim he would enter another wolf’s territory, to break a line of demarcation. You can’t help but smile, leaning your head upward to press a kiss to his lips, hungry and tired of running from him.

Yoongi lets you, though you feel the shape of a smirk through the sweet taste of his mouth, warm against yours. Yoongi sinks his hips heavily against yours and you moan into his mouth, spurring him further. Your hands remain where he left them, outstretched above your head as he licks into you, no longer content to let you kiss him the way you want.

His kisses consume you. He takes your breath away, hand leaving the apex of your thighs to snake up your front, loosely gripping your throat. You feel dizzy. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t do anything but rest his hand at the base of your neck, fingers pressed lightly to the sides of your throat.

It’s comforting, having him smother you like this. You get lost in the wet tangle of his tongue, your skin burning up from the inside out. He rolls his hips into you, but it’s not enough. You need him, a fire sparking to life that burns hotter than you can manage.

A feverish need comes over you. Yoongi senses the shift. His kisses turn to bites, teething gently at your skin as he works you out of your clothes. You still haven’t moved your hands and when he glances at them, he grins.

Your eyes are only for him, shrouded in darkness as he pulls your pants down, then your shirt. Your eyes are sharp in the dark, able to see the rippling muscle of his arms and shoulders. The dusty nipples, the swells and planes of his chest and stomach. See the way his gaze is fucked out when he’s barely touched you, shuffling down your legs, hands skimming and grabbing the soft meat of your thighs.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes dragging from the wet smear down your thighs, to your hands above your head. You whine under his gaze and he grins, feral and sharp. “So obedient for me.”

“You like hands above head until you say so.”

“I do.” Yoongi bows low, grabbing your legs and hiking them over his shoulders. Your world spins, feeling his breath on your cunt as he makes a low sound in his throat. “Fucking wet, just how I like it.”

Yoongi licks a sloppy path up your pussy and you gasp, head digging back into the grass. It’s almost painful, the need for him pulsing between your legs. He hums, sucking at your clit hungrily. Your toes curl and you hide your face in your arm, the urge to squirm away from the stimulation strong.

You’re an exposed wire under Yoongi’s tongue as he eats you out, messy and wet. He laps at your hole, eager to taste you, nose pressed against your clit, teasing. You whimper his name, thighs clenching, fisting your hands together as you fight to remain still. It’s nearly impossible, this stillness he’s asked of you. You want to reach down and thread your fingers through his hair, want to dig your nails in and scratch, want to pull him close and shove him away.

The sounds he makes are obscene, alternating between sucking loudly and flicking his tongue against your throbbing clit. It’s pleasure-laced pain. You want him to fuck you, to sink into you as deep as he can until you can’t do anything but take it. But you like this too, the way Yoongi’s tongue works your clenching hole.

A high-pitched keen leaves your mouth. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded as he sticks his tongue out, making a show of licking your cunt top to bottom. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you mumble his name, speech slurred.

“Hmm?” he asks, grunting against you as he works you closer to an orgasm, which hovers in the distance. He looks up at you again, sees the tears lining your eyes. “You can touch me,” he murmurs, saying the world between lush licks between your folds. “Greedy omega.”

And so what if you are greedy. Yoongi gives you everything you want. He makes a grumble about it, rolling his eyes and sometimes acting like it’s a little inconvenience, but you know he loves it- loves this. Loves letting you get away with things when you ask sweetly.

Yoongi’s hair is silky and a little sweaty as you run your fingers through it, nails scratching at his scalp the way he likes. His moan is muffled against your pussy and you wriggle beneath him. It feels so good, your stomach in knots. Your limbs begin to tingle and you feel that tight, squeezing feeling in your core, clenching hard.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dig your nails into Yoongi’s scalp and he growls at the pain. You think your breaking skin, nails turned into claws, limbs shaking as your orgasm tightens and tightens until it feels like you can’t breath, like the world is going to crack in half.

And then it breaks. Your orgasm floods out of you in a rush, your muscle spasming so hard that you scream. Heels digging into the dirt, fingers tangled in Yoongi’s hair, head whipped to the side, cheek pressed into the ground and eyes squeezed shut so hard you see colors exploded behind your eyelids.

Heavy-limbed and feeling drunk, you drop your legs open a bit. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips, flipping you over. You don’t have the strength to hold yourself up, hands buckling under you, face pressed to the back of your palms. He says something that you can’t hear, your head still swimming in the clouds.

Every one of your joints feels melted, unable to lock together to support your weight. It doesn’t matter. Yoongi does it for you, lifting you up so that you’re on your knees, thighs spread wide. Air cools the wet mess on your legs. You realize you’re dripping past your knees.

Yoongi’s palms feel like fire on your flushed skin. He wraps and arm around your waist, pulling you back to his chest, the other looping under your arm so he can grab your neck firmly. This time, he does squeeze, fingers placed perfectly on the sides of your throat.

Everything around you feels like cotton candy fuzz, fluffy and sweet. Your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder as his teeth find your shoulder, nipping your skin. Behind you, his cock slides gently between your folds, making you hiss.

“Gonna fill up this pussy,” Yoongi murmurs. “Gonna fuck you full, yeah?”

You nod your head. “Yeah.” The word slurs on your tongue. “Please, want it.”

“You’re already fucked out from just my mouth, omega.”

“So?”

He chuckles darkly. His cockhead catches your clenching hole and you whine, hands going to clutch the arm on your waist and holding your throat. “Have you no decency, hm?”

“No. Yoongi please, it hurts. Please just - please.”

“Shhh.” Yoongi places a warm, wet kiss on your jaw. “I’ve got you. You know I’ve got you?”

Words are too hard, so you nod. Yoongi places another sweet kiss on your cheek before he shuffles and thrusts into you, smooth on the upstroke. You gasp, breath knocked out of you as he slides to the hilt. Yoongi’s cock is thick and though you’re soaked, the stretch is intense, your walls clinging to him in a vice grip.

Behind you, Yoongi curses. His hand tightens, and it gets just a little bit harder to breath. Slowly, he retracts before snapping forward again, stroke slow but hard. He groans, focused on setting a leisurely and smooth pace. Every thrust of his hips makes his cock hit deep, punching the air from your lungs. With his fingers pressing against your throat, it gets harder to take in more air, making you light-headed, the forest spinning.

It feels so good, this blooming pleasure inside of you. Every time he hits your soft spot just right, you feel closer to madness. Yoongi squeezes your throat tighter. His skin is warm and sweaty, sliding against yours, the friction making your eyes roll back.

Yoongi’s teeth scrape your shoulder. Sink in just a little, not enough to draw blood, but you feel the sting. It’s good, pleasure-laced pain. And then he’s telling you to let go, to come around him. You deny your alpha nothing, eyes fluttering shut as you squeeze tight tight tight.

“Fuck,” Yoongi snarls. You come so hard he has to stop thrusting, your pussy clenching around him with everything you’ve got. You’re not breathing, air stuck in your lungs, blood rushing in your eyes, stars behind your eyes. “Breathe,” Yoongi pants, letting go of your throat. You suck in a sharp breath of air, flooding your lungs. “That’s it. You can take it, yeah? Can take it til I fill you up?”

“Yes, alpha.”

It’s a mumble of words. You’re not even sure if it comes out right. Yoongi holds you to him, doesn’t mind that you're boneless. Your fingers thread his where his hands grip you, squeezing as your head cradles against his neck. You nose him there, drawing all sorts of feral sounds from him as he chases his orgasm, driven to the edge while you scent him. He comes with a loud sound, maybe your name or something else. You’re not sure.

Yoongi smells like home. Well - smells like earth and come and sweat and trees and pheremones. But his smell is there, pine and sage. Wild and gentle. Earth and cleansing. You love the smell of him, you have since you met him.

“Rest.” Yoongi’s voice sounds faraway. “I’ve got you.”

Weightlessness takes over. You don’t remember moving and you don’t remember Yoongi pulling out of you and picking you up. You’re drunk off his scent, hormones throwing you over the cliff and into a deep lake, where you float aimlessly. Comforted.

Soft sheets slide against your skin. You turn your face and breathe in, smelling Yoongi everywhere. It’s warm and you smell you too. Rosemary and mint. Your scents linger together, making you feel at home. Loved. Safe.

Something jostles you a little. You slow-blink an eye open, realizing you’re at home, tucked into the corner of your room you like to use for nesting. Blankets of Yoongi’s are piled eye and there are shirts and hoodies that belong to him. Some shirts that belong to you. Things that remind you of the two of you, that feel like you both.

Yoongi is tucked behind you, breath puffing against your ear. His eyes are closed when you curve your head to look at him. “Sleep,” he rasps, not opening his eyes. “And thank you for the hunt. I’m not done with you. But I’m tired.”

You smile and close your eyes, drifting to sleep in the safety of Yoongi’s arms.

#yoongi smut #suga smut #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfic #alpha yoongi #yoongi x reader #omega reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #werewolf au

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delicatestones · 3 months

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Various Parahuman Teen Couples Go To The Mall

Brian and Taylor: Going to the mall is a normal thing neither of them enjoy, which is precisely why they convince themselves that they should do it. Brian musters up hope that he will be able to carry Taylor's bags and wait for her on benches outside of clothes stores, which will affirm his value as a man. Taylor, who only wants to buy a single hoodie, anxiously refuses to let Brian carry her bag because she doesn't want to be a burden, which banishes Brian to the Masculine Insecurity Pocket Dimension in his own mind. They attempt to rally by going to the food court, where they try to have an awkward 'normal' conversation over greasy pizza slices.

Fortunately, a supervillain they have history with attacks the mall mid-pizza, and they rush off to change in the mall bathrooms and return to thoroughly beat the interloper's ass. Brian apologizes for the mall date going wrong (secretly relieved, also deeply compelled by watching Taylor break a guy's arm with a baton) while Taylor says it's no big deal (even more relieved, mesmerized by Brian's visible sweat on the back of his neck). They may or may not awkwardly touch hands at the fire exit before they flee the scene of the crime.

Krouse and Noelle (Pre-Simurgh): On a quest for limited edition Ransack merch at the Gamestop, which turns out to be all sold out or on reserve. Krouse tries to social engineer it out of the clerk anyway, but Noelle gets so visibly uncomfortable he desists. In the depths of excruciating failure he says something shitty about the guy's haircut after they leave the store and Noelle tells him he's being a dick, which he apologizes excessively for in a way that just makes it more awkward.

In a now desperate effort to turn things around, Krouse tries to lighten the mood by latching onto listing Alternative Mall Activities including one of those photo booth set ups. He makes fun of how cliche they are and how it would be completely lame if they went into one, which transitions into cajoling Noelle to join him in this extremely cringe activity for the bit. She says her hair looks dumb and she doesn't want to, so he gallantly offers her his over-sized hoodie so she can hide her face the entire time, a gesture he does not realize extends the shelf life of their relationship for a solid two weeks. His visible joy when she agrees to the idea adds another week to the tail end of that. They hold hands on the way to the parking lot.

His copy of their photos becomes an instantly precious memento he sticks on the wall above his bed; Noelle puts hers in her picture shoebox in her closet. He spends all night on E-bay overbidding for the merch.

Krouse and Noelle (Post-Simurgh): Twelve Injured One Dead In 'Food Court Nightmare'.

Dean and Victoria: It takes Victoria half an hour to get ready for a mall trip. Dean shows up too early to pick her up and engages Carol Dallon in small talk for twenty minutes, a time span in which Carol manages to list every single one of Victoria's deepest insecurities in the form of barely veiled criticism while Dean smiles like he's being held at gunpoint.

At the mall they get stopped outside the Gap by a gaggle of Glory Girl preteen fans. Dean holds Victoria's bags (many) while she goes through the New Wave Fan Experience Checklist. Victoria says something afterwards to him on the way to the next store that hints at the Dallon Torment Nexus. Dean continues smiling and offers the mildest possible effort at sympathy, which Victoria reacts to with virulent irritation, so he gives up and buys her a mall outlet jewelry store diamond tennis bracelet instead. Thus mollified, she proceeds to allow him to obtain Jamba Juice for the both of them. It's another normal (bad) day in Brockton Bay.

Aisha and Alec: There strictly to cause problems for the sake of causing problems. Alec 'distracts' the staff at Hot Topic by faking a fall into a rack of studded belts and loudly insisting he will sue them for emotional and psychic damages while Aisha shoplifts bracelets. They buy hot pretzels and perch on the edge of the mall fountain marked 'NO LOITERING' to conspicuously loiter while occasionally kicking each other in the ankle. When a security guard tries to get them to move they collaborate on roasting his bloodline back to medieval times, triggering rent-a-cop wrath and a threat to call the Real Cops.

Now officially Wronged By The System, they decamp to breaking into the mall's back corridors (going through an unlocked access door) to vandalize the security office while throwing gummy worms at each other's mouths and missing 70% of the time. In high spirits, they make their cunning exit (leaving through the same door) and sneak into a horror movie at the mall theater halfway through its run time. They heckle the on-screen slasher victims for being idiots until an usher shows up with the original security guard, and then book it for the outside world while laughing like small and charming hyenas.

They agree they should totally rob the mall for real later, preferably while Brian and Taylor are on their make-up mall date, because they are good and kind teammates who only want the best for them.

(This post inspired by the learned discourses of Wormblr character understanders, particularly users lakesbian and simurghed. Any mischaracterizations and errors are my own. These hypotheticals are a non-representative sample of Ways They Could Be At The Mall.)

#parahumans #wormblr

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drizztdohurtin · 14 days

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Gale Headcanons: Pregnancy and Fatherhood

pairing: Gale x afab!reader (use of she/her, "wife", "mother")

〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛

-MDNI-

i've brought to you....... yet another doozy

What to expect: section 01 - pregnancy: fluff & domesticity, slight NSFW under the cut section 01.5 - labor and birth: fluff section 02 - fatherhood: fluff & domesticity, slight angst

suggested pre-reads: pining, dating, domesticity, and marriage | deciding to start a family and conceiving

01. Pregnancy

Your pregnancy is revealed either from your period not coming, a trip to the cleric, or from Tara being able to sense something new in your womb - choose your favorite!

With a big smile, Gale would let out a very relieved sigh and pull you in a close embrace - "My love, I can't believe we finally did it"

He'd hold you for a while, nuzzling his face in your neck or your hair, pressing his forehead against yours, dipping down for relieved kisses and brushing his nose against yours

He'd be more excited than words could explain, but he'd want to wait a little while before you two get too hype about it because anything could happen when you're that early on in a pregnancy

He'd continue cooking proper meals for you every day, especially anything he learned is good for your first trimester (like anything rich in iron and protein)

But as the weeks go by with no issues, and once a cleric signs off on the health and viability of your pregnancy, the man jumps into gear

He would love to have an active part in designing and setting up the nursery, and would absolutely take care of it by himself if you didn't have much of an interest or preference in it

He talks to your belly SO often

will say random things to your bump throughout the day; and the info dumps he used to subject you to are now also for the baby, and he speaks as if there are multiple people in the room rather than just you

imagine him scolding the growing baby about how he told them to "stop kicking mummy all night because she needs to sleep"

I also love the thought of him greeting you and the baby whenever he sees you - "Hello, my love," he'd say to you, then look at your bump, maybe bending down a little bit, saying, "and hello my baby :)))", often giving your stomach a small rub

100% talks to the bump at night, with his head resting on it (or your chest), his hand rubbing comforting circles on your belly, sometimes following the movements his baby is making from the inside

As prepared as he was for your pregnancy from reading all of those books, I doubt he'd ever closely been around a pregnant person like this before

so he'd be really shocked seeing how much your belly stretches when the baby is big and really starts moving around

nothing could've prepared him for that - it's fascinating to him but he also doesn't try to egg it on if it's uncomfortable for you (which it very likely is, especially as your baby gets bigger and bigger)

he'd feel so lucky if he was there to witness the first time your baby kicks

You'd perk up like "gale!! baby's kicking!!" as you rush to put one of his hands on your belly - shock and excited anticipation in his eyes as he waits to feel it

and he'd be whispering as if talking too loud would scare off the baby from moving - "Do it again, little one, come on!"

He'd be so quiet, even once he felt the kicks; there'd be a quiet gasp as he looked back at you, his jaw dropped in a big smile, basically astonished

after that moment, he'd always have his hands on your bump, hoping to feel some movement

If you get food aversions or are easily nauseous... oh my GOD he's so perfect and patient and understanding and helpful about it

Wizards aren't versed in healing magic, so he wouldn't be able to help you out too much on that front but he would be there for you for every second of it

He is still a very knowledgeable and powerful wizard, so he could try other forms of magic that could help reduce discomfort

he would be able to evoke different scents into the air; for example, citrusy and peppermint/eucalyptus smells can help with things like nausea (the latter can also be for headaches)

or lavender and chamomile can help you get to sleep if you're feeling restless

I've mentioned it in other headcanon posts, but he'd also be able to change the temperature of his hands, to some effect, using the cold/heat to relieve certain types of pain on your body

He'd adapt to food aversions, or even food obsessions, that you get; implementing changes in the meals he makes for you with ease

Gale would NEVER leave you alone to deal with something uncomfortable or painful

the only reason he might not be there to help is if he's at work

and he'd feel so terrible when he gets home and sees the state of you, or asks how your day went only for you to find out about your newest aches and pains

He'd definitely coax you into a bath often if it was something that made you more comfortable - offering to join you and massage any areas of your body that hurt

Your pregnant body would do things to him, btw

Even from the beginning, despite how it would take months for you to even start showing

Just the fact that you were pregnant with his baby would do things to him

His mindset about this would be similar to how it was during your time conceiving - he wasn't turned on by the idea of "breeding you" but instead by the level of intimacy that creating life with you is

So he wouldn't look at you with lust because your rounding belly, your growing breasts, and your widening hips were evidence of him "breeding you"

he'd be turned on by all those things because of the intimacy it implied - it was evidence of your love for him, and his love for you, and it would always be perfect to him, more than words would describe

the first time he realized your bump was noticeable was after he came home from having to be away for a few days - and you were changing for bed

You'd heard a quiet, but audible, "Oh wow," when he noticed you and the way your stomach and breasts were larger and rounder than he remembered

visibly in awe, he made his way over to you, hovering his hands over your stomach with a soft, "May I?" - his hands finding a place at your belly only once you nodded

He'd get down on his knees and kiss your bump, telling you how much he loved you and how stunning you were before making his way up to your lips - his warm, gentle hands grazing up your sides and around your lower back

If you were feeling well that night, he would absolutely want to show you how much he loved you, and how gorgeous you are

Gale would 100% want to make love to you anytime he could - there was just something about your pregnancy that could get him worked up at the snap of a finger

He wouldn't initiate it a lot, especially if you weren't feeling well - he much preferred to care for you in the other, more innocent ways

But he'd absolutely have you any time you wanted him, whether it was because you were feeling at the top of your game or because you were feeling horrible - his goal is always to love and worship you

So much of your time over the past year or two would've revolved around trying to start a family and going through pregnancy

so he'd completely understand if you ever felt overlooked as an individual, or as who you were besides your pregnancy - though he tried his hardest to make sure you were never overlooked

compared to the amount of effort and time he'd spend on things that did revolve around your pregnancy, he'd spend the same amount (and maybe more) on taking time to love you and spend time with you in ways that didn't revolve around your pregnancy

he wanted to ensure you never forgot that his love and care for you extended far beyond the fact that you were carrying his child

01.5 Labor and Birth

Gale would be a literal dream when you go into labor

Despite the common fears and nerves people get when their partners go into labor, he remains very calm and collected on the outside

He'd made sure nothing got in the way of him being there for you in every way you can imagine

And you guys would've made a very thorough birth plan, whether it was his idea or yours, and he would stick to it

your birth plan would be incredibly important to him and he'd 100% have it memorized in case he needs to speak or advocate for you

Just from all of the books he's read, he's almost exceedingly prepared

He's so wonderful during the actual birth, doing everything you need him to without even asking

because by this point in your relationship, he knows exactly what you need just from glancing at you

I couldn't decide if he would be more of a "stick to the books we read" type of partner during labor or a "you can scream and cry and punch me and, you're the only one that can do it, so do whatever you need to do to get yourself through this" type

He's very much a combination of the two, but I ultimately decided that he's closer to the first type for the birth of your first child, and if you have more after that then he's more like the second type

So for the first birth, he lowkey wants to stick to the birthing books he read - like he'd insist on you doing the breathing techniques he learned about, or trying different positions to allow gravity to do its job, etc.

and whether or not you listen to him is up to you HAHDSA

He'd just be so fucking in awe of you - even if you refused to follow the dumb breathing exercises he kept mimicking 2 feet from your face

If you happen to yell at him because he's talking too much or that's just how you deal with that kind of pain, he literally wouldn't even be upset in any regard

If you gotta break his hand by squeezing it too hard, go ahead

You could literally kill him in that moment and he'd understand

He'd be full of praise and loving words, too

There would be a lot of "you're doing incredible, my love, keep going," as he rubs some part of your body soothingly

and once baby is born, oh boy

His face would almost scrunch up; his lips pressed firmly together in a soft smile, trying to hold back his tears as he watched your baby be handed over to you

If you looked over at him, you'd just see him with the most soul-crushingly sweet smile, and glassy eyes looking back into yours with the purest love

And he'd be pretty damn quiet, basically at a loss for words as he takes in the whole scene before him

A few tears would finally fall the longer he looked at the two of you, along with a quiet sob of happiness when you eventually ushered him closer

and that's when he finally gets to touch his baby for the first time, rubbing the pad of his thumb as gently as possible over their warm, tear-stained cheek

He'd just lay his head on your shoulder, his face less than a foot from that of his newborn who was laid on your chest - relishing in the first moments of fatherhood that he'll never get to experience again

02. Fatherhood

OKAY let's talk about if he has sons and/or daughters and how many

I'm a Gale-firstborn-is-a-boy truther

and I honestly can't explain it but I can't see him having more than one, which is probably unpopular and I can't even explain myself !!

if baby #2 comes along, I tend to lean more toward him having a daughter, 3-5 years after his son

those are the specifics of my thoughts, but the rest of the headcanons will be gender-neutral in case you feel differently!

Gale is obsessed with his baby - by the Gods, they are the most perfect thing in existence

He would thank you every day (literally, every day) for bringing such a gift into the world

He's not a super "touchy" father - meaning he's not constantly kissing or nuzzling his baby (unlike someone else I've written about, not to name any names), but he's still of course an affectionate dad

He'd more often prop his baby up in their seat so they could watch him do things (like while he cooks or cleans or works in his study) rather than hold them the whole time

entertaining them the whole time by explaining what he was doing (explaining it to them as if they had the language comprehension of an adolescent)

You'd walk in on him explaining to your 3-month-old how to properly zest a lemon and how he even learned how to do it in the first place

and to his credit, your child looked very interested

It's not like he doesn't know how to talk to babies or something, he just isn't big on baby talk

and he always read about how stimulating it was for babies to hear and watch people talk to them - so really, he was doing a great job

If he's relaxing on the couch reading a book or resting his eyes, however, he'd love to have his baby cuddle into his chest while he does so

He'd read out loud to them sometimes, too, of course!

Gale's the "on it!" type of dad

Literally anything you or the baby need, he's on it before you even ask - and, yes, he absolutely goes "☝ On it, my love!"

he's literally so patient, too

He'd be able to say quite calm and collected even when his child is freaking out and crying and throwing tantrums - or if they're just a really colicky baby - he handles it very well and never ever gets upset with them

The driving force behind his patience is how empathetic he is as a person - it would only go above and beyond for you and your guys' children

Even if he had to go to work all sleepy and fatigued, he wouldn't be upset - and he'd wear the bags under his eyes like a badge of honor

if it means allowing you to get your proper rest, he'll stay up comforting your crying baby all night if he has to

This might be an unpopular opinion but he's not a very panicky dad - like if his kid gets hurt, he's quite level-headed about it, he's not freaking out

he'd do a really wonderful job of comforting his child and keeping them calm while he helps heal them - and he's definitely the type to tell them stories to distract them while he fixes them up

I'm subscribed to the idea that Gale did not grow up with a dad and didn't have much of a childhood due to M*stra and how consumed by his magical craft he had been (I don't even remember if these are canon or headcanon at this point)

so he'd desperately want to give his child what he never had - a loving father and a real childhood

I do love the community HC of them being very gifted in magic, so before you and Gale find out about it I think he'd secretly hope that his child doesn't inherit his abilities - mainly for the reason of him wanting them to enjoy their childhood instead of being consumed by their gifts like he was

(plus there's always the looming threat of fckin M*stra 🖕🖕🖕🖕)

But when his child's gifts are revealed and they start summoning things at a young age, he would take every precaution possible to keep them safe and also allow them to still be a kid while they navigate their talents

He'd teach them everything they wanted to know, but only when they asked him to, and he would try to make it as fun as possible

and he'd worry less knowing that he was in charge of their studies - he knew best how to keep them safe and happy, and that's what matters most to him

but he would not shelter your child - he'd be a pretty lenient dad

He'd let them do things other parents might not let their kids do, as long as it was safe and with both your and his permission

he's also just a fuckin goofball of a dad and loves making his kid laugh - and YES he is stocked full of dad jokes

(all of his kid's friends would love both of you)

He wouldn't shy away from teaching them about or letting them learn about more mature topics as long as it was in a way that was appropriate for their age

and as they grew, they'd be allowed to know more and more about such topics

for example, his very young child might ask "How did mummy and daddy meet?"

he wouldn't just tell his three-year-old that mummy and daddy were abducted from their homes and violated by mind flayers and met after crashing onto land and having to survive on the road to Baldur's Gate for several months with a constant threat of death or ceremorphosis looming over them

He'd say something closer to 'mummy and daddy met one day near a beautiful druids grove in Elturgard, and we fell in love as we adventured our way to the city of Baldur's Gate!' - and reveal more of the details as they grew

If your kid ever pushed too much on the details of a topic that was too much for them, he'd be really good about teaching them about how some topics they may not be able to understand until they're older - and that he'd share more of those details with them when they were able to comprehend better what certain things mean

As much as he loves all of his child's life stages for unique reasons, he'd particularly love the 4-6-year-old range

It's when they start to blossom into a person and he gets to see all of the specific opinions and interests form, but they're also still little enough to hold and cuddle

and it's right before the age that they start to become more independent; therefore not wanting/needing him as much as they used to

Once they're a little older, he would really miss the days when his child clung to him or always wanted him to pick them up or play with them - though he'd still find ways to embrace each new stage of their life

There would've been many moments - when his child was around 6 - where he'd hold their sleeping form in his arms and think about how one day they wouldn't need him like that anymore - and it would bring him to tears almost every time

moments like that are what would make him seriously consider having another child

he'd always come to you afterward for comfort, sinking his tear-stained face into your neck and wrapping his arms around you without a word

and when you ask him what's wrong, all he says is, "Our baby's getting big."

(whether he brings up having another baby is up to you)

and Gale would raise your child to have great respect for you

Really the only time you'd see him get stern or even yell at them is if they did something really fucking stupid and dangerous, or if they said/did something to disrespect you

He knows damn well you can handle yourself with your kid, but he doesn't want you to have to

and if they said something that actually hurt your feelings, oh boy

This is where his remarkable patience would be tested - as he would be incredibly disappointed with them

says something like, "I can see that you're having very big feelings right now, and you don't know how to handle them, but you will not talk to your mother like that."

If your child kept mouthing off (as kids tend to do), his voice would lower in volume as his stare practically pierced through them in disbelief, "Go to your room. We'll talk about this later."

oh, and talk to them he will - after several deep breaths and a slight prayer to the gods to give him strength

Expect an apology from your kid a few hours later after watching them shuffle into your room with their head hung and their father watching from the hallway with his arms crossed

I think something like that would honestly be embarrassing for him, and you'd even get several apologies from him about it despite how well he handled it and how it wasn't even his fault

Overall, Gale would be such a lovely father

His child would never feel unloved or uncared for, and he'd never disrespect them or talk down to them - he'd do anything to keep them happy and safe

I really hope y'all loved these! As always, comments are GREATLY appreciated and I love to hear people's thoughts on my headcanons!! <3

#my writing #my hcs #wife #bg3 #fluff #gale dekarios #headcanons #baldur's gate 3 #brainrot #x reader #x tav

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

Can I request GP Photographer Wanda x Model Reader

The Phone Call

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Tony and Pepper x reader (Parents/child)

Word Count: 1976

Warnings: Smut, Wanda has a dick, pervert Wanda, phone sex, mommy kink, bottom!Wanda, guiding, handjobs, jerking off to photos, praise, degrading, punishments, edging,

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Wanda had a love for taking photos, especially when you’d be the model. She loved seeing you pose with a silly face, and she loved making you dress up in cute little outfits. Whether it was a dress or skimpy lingerie, she adored staring at the pictures she had taken of you. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but admire the polaroids when you were gone. And sometimes, she couldn’t help but bring a hand into her pants.

You had left only three days ago on a small road trip to visit your family. Wanda had wanted to go, but her classes and schedule restricted her from doing so. Your family loved her and wanted to see her, but they understood the stress of college.

Wanda had a small box under her bed filled with small polaroids painted with your body. She ran the pad of her thumb over your gorgeous face, smiling to herself when glancing at your beauty. The next photo she grabbed was one of you in only her sweatshirt. It was large, restricting her from seeing the cute pink panties you wore that day. You were smiling whilst holding the ends of the fabric, it was one of her favorite photos of you. The innocence laced in you could only make her imagine the things she’d do to you. Your thighs were exposed, begging to be planted with marks and love bites. Oh, how she wanted to fuck your thighs more than anything.

The next polaroid she lurked upon was one of you wearing a pair of red panties and stockings. Your arm was covering your bra-less breasts as you sucked on a lollipop. You stood on your tiptoes and looked up at nothing, a sweet smile being hidden beneath the sugary treat. Images of you teasing her cock with your mouth filled her mind. The way you licked over the tip so gently as to barely graze it made her go feral. And when you’d take her down to the base, crying and gagging as your hand would massage her balls with the sweetest care, it ruined her.

She couldn’t stop. No matter how hard she tried to stop herself from going through the box, she just couldn’t help it.

You were finishing up dinner with your family, eating the remains of the dessert your mother had baked, and creating a small talk between you and your parents.

“So, Y/N, how’s Wanda?”

“I swear you guys love her more than me at this point.” The two chuckled humorously as you smiled gently, staring down at your food to avoid them seeing your reddened cheeks. It was crazy how she could make you blush from miles and miles away.

“She’s great, yeah. She actually is waiting on her results for her final before the break.” You filled your mouth up with the moist cake that earlier was coated in a ‘Happy Birthday Pepper’ and waited for their response.

“You guys planning on doing anything over break?” Your father asked, your mother nodding along with his words.

“Well, we both want to take time for ourselves but at the same time, we want to explore. If we were to travel, we were thinking Puerto Rico would be nice. It would be great for some pictures and definitely a nice place to visit.” You all continued on for another half an hour before you separated ways and started to walk into your childhood bedroom. The two of them were in their room doing god knows what when you got a call. You looked at the name and saw that it was Wanda. Excitedly picking up the phone, your smile soon got replaced with a look of confusion as you heard small groans on the other side.

“Wanda? Are you okay?” Hearing your voice only made her harder. Her hand was wrapped around her length, slowly stroking the shaft and lightly grazing her thumb over the pre-cum leaking tip.

“Fuck! Y-Y/N, please, it feels so good.” Whimpers left her cracked-open mouth as she expressed her needs to you, only leaving a smirk on your face.

“Wanda, are you touching yourself?” She nodded, only to then remember that you couldn’t see her. But you needed to, you needed to see the way her cock twitched in her hands from the thought of you.

“Wanda, why don’t you facetime me, let mommy help you out.” In a quick few seconds, the camera was being turned on as you got the notification that she was trying to video call. You accepted, being greeted with darkness until you saw her breathtaking face make its way onto your phone.

“My angel is so beautiful, isn’t she? My pretty girl, tell mommy how pretty you are.” She tried to speak, but the moan that left her lips cut her off. She knew she should’ve slowed down her pace, making it easier for her to not cum right away. But it was impossible when picturing it was your hand instead of hers.

“Baby, what did I say? Do you think mommy will be so nice to you if you don’t listen?”

“I’m sorry! Please let me be your good girl tonight, just wanna please you.” She whimpered out in fear and frustration. She tried to listen, she really did. But sometimes, all she wanted to do was be a little brat. She only thought at the moment, not caring about the punishment that she could receive later on.

“I’m your pretty girl, I’m mommy’s pretty girl!” You smiled at her through the camera, now being dressed in nothing but your panties. You rid her of seeing your bare chest, her favorite part of your entire body. She would worship your breasts all night long if she could. She had hundreds of pictures of your chest alone, she went through them all nearly every day.

“Yeah? You’re my girl? My princess?” She groaned in annoyance, watching as her pre-cum continued to drool down her awaiting cock. She wasn’t going to last long, her best bet was just to give in.

“All yours, mommy! I’m your girl, your princess. I’m yours to touch, to own, to fuck, all yours!” She swapped the camera around, letting you watch as her palm pumped her throbbing cock. Her thighs occasionally twitched upwards, her toned abs becoming visible as her chest went up and down due to her rapid breathing. Your breath hitched when hearing footsteps from outside of your old bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be quiet, okay?” She agreed in hopes you’d show her some gratitude for listening, even if deep down she knew you wouldn’t.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What if they came in here and saw what you were doing for me? I don’t think they’d like you very much if they knew you’re slutting yourself out for their child in the room next to them.”

“God, keep talking to me like that, I’m gonna cum.” She set her phone down, holding the small piece of paper that was marked with your naked body close to her pulsing cock. In the photo, your mouth was split open, your eyes closed as drops of her juices painted your face. She remembers exactly how that night went. You were tired, sleeping as you waited for her to get home from work. She came home needy and woke you up, crying as you jerked her off slowly, not letting her finish until you said. You edged her over and over, only letting her cum when she was shaking and twitching. That night, you cockwarmed her as you slept. She tried to sleep just like you, but it was impossible with the way you clenched around her so tightly. You woke up to her release dripping out of you and a sleeping Wanda that you soon woke up to head.

“Darling? You still there?” Wanda hadn’t even realized that she was stuck in her head and missed what you said. You were sat with the phone in your hand, the other in your underwear, and toying with your clit. You weren’t going to let her cum until you did, it was one of your rules that she despised and loved at the same time. She loved making you finish more than anything, but she hated waiting when she was so close to tipping over the edge. You knew how desperate she always was, and you loved that dearly. And what you loved most of all, was knowing that it was all because of you.

“Y-yeah, I was just thinking.”

“About what, baby?” She contemplated telling you, worried you’d think she was a pervert for looking at your photos. Even though you knew all about them. But you wouldn’t tell her that, you liked knowing how gross she was for you. That she’d get hard just from looking at your photos.

“C’mon, Wanda, tell mommy what you’re thinking about.” You egged her on. She could feel herself falling into that headspace, the one only you could cause. Her mind would go fuzzy, any thought leaving her mind as all she could focus on was you and your angelic voice. You loved when she got like that, when she was so needy that she couldn’t even think without your help.

“Of you, I was thinking of you, mommy.” You hummed, clearly not satisfied with her answer.

“Yeah? What about me?” When she didn’t give an answer, you forced it out of her, threatening her with a punishment if she didn’t speak.

“No! No! Please, I’ll tell you.”

“Go on then, tell mommy what nasty thoughts are going through your pretty little head.” She took in a deep breath, preparing herself to hear the degrading words that would leave your mouth.

“I was thinking about- ah! Mommy, please!” She was so close, basically on the verge of cumming as you only mocked her desperate antics.

“Baby, you know I won’t let you cum if you don’t tell me all those sweet little thoughts.”

“Fuck! I was thinking about you, and about you sucking me off. The way you wrap your mouth around me and go all the way down. The way you gag and cry. The way you moan around me. The way you look at me and talk to me. God, it’s so hot, I can’t stop picturing it.” You circled your clit faster as you listened to her speak, making a mental note to exaggerate those actions the next time you’d be with her.

“You get mommy so wet, baby. Do you like knowing that? You like knowing that mommy is dripping just for you.” She whined out pathetically.

“Hmm, what a shame you aren’t here, I would’ve had you licking me up in no time.” She begged and begged for the next few minutes, hoping you’d finally let her cum. And you were getting so close to breaking.

“Shit! My God- please! Please, mommy, I’ll do anything. You can punish me, I don’t care, just please let me cum. Just this one time?”

“Do it, Wanda, cum for me.” The second you let out those words, she let herself go, spurts of her release coating her hand and lower stomach. She moaned louder than ever before, the picture that was still in her hand being covered in her juices. You let yourself finish with her, covering your mouth to hide any noises to make sure your parents wouldn’t hear. It was late, you didn’t want to wake them up to hearing your moans for someone who they thought was so sweet and innocent.

“Holy shit. The second I come home, I want you on your knees, naked, and waiting for me on the bed.” And with that, you hung up, leaving her with a slightly hardened cock and the perfect image of what was to come.

Taglist: @boredandneedfanfics @obsessedwithhereyes

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff angst #wanda fanfic #wanda x y/n #mommy wanda #wanda my beloved #wanda maximilf #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda smut #wanda marvel #wanda x reader smut #wanda x you #wanda x gn!reader #wanda x gender neutral reader

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astonmartingf · 10 days

Text

YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND —

— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again

SPECIAL ★ ALES AND YNLONSO

amgf after that chapter, this is your gift ig enjoy it because it'll only get better (worse) from here 😀👍

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

ALEJANDRO ALONSO (ALES)

born on June 2019, 5 years of age

likes dinosaurs, toy cars, legos, and construction work

likes to eat ice cream, alonso's special tacos, and a specific pizza that yn makes

likes long walks on the beach with his father and mother

likes to add grass in his lego builds

currently raising a succulent with his father, they named it avi

has his own id at the hospital yn works at due to his frequency in visiting

started pre-school recently and spends most of his time in school

his favorite places are the aston martin office and anywhere with his mother and father

playmates with lewis and nico's daughters

his godfather is lance, yn's cousin

YNLONSO — FORMATIVE YEARS

met through lawrence stroll back when yn was volunteering in the medical bay at a few races

alonso would fake injuries just to go to the medical bay whenever he can, and often skipped meetings just to take a few peeks at yn

alonso became extremely jealous when someone else crashed and was brought to the medical bay, so he began to pray for everyone's safety so they don't have to meet yn

when called for mandatory check ups, alonso would always look for yn and hog her for the whole day

the grid became increasingly curious about alonso's relationship with you, despite your attempts in keeping the relationship private

broke up once after a nasty crash in 2016, yn couldn't bear seeing alonso in pain especially since she was the one treating him

yn is a date to marry type, and found a future in alonso when they got engaged in 2018

their first date was in a parking lot outside the hospital when yn was still an intern for residency, and alonso surprised yn with tacos during a night shift

once, alonso planned on surprising yn but she was stuck in a long surgery, so he fell asleep waiting for her

alonso would always stop by the hospital after races and meetings just to see yn and talk to her even if it's just a few seconds

yn prefers it when alonso was in wec due to less racing schedules, also because alonso won the year she gave birth to ales

had a mutual split much to alonso's pleas after he came out from retirement in 2021

started co-parenting at the beginning of 2022 when ales and yn moved back to spain

frequently drives to each other's house and has a spare key of each other's front door and gate

alonso kept yn as his emergency contact even after their split, so she was still getting updates from alonso

yn and alonso both use lance to get updates about each other, and use him to play messenger, which lance didn't really like at the beginning, but now he's holding a lot of their secrets

their weekly routine with ales includes walking to the beach, having one lunch outing, one dinner date and a trip to the grocery

speaking of groceries, they go buy groceries together so ales has the same food in both households

it's also customary for them to invite the other for a meal when picking up ales, but really it's alonso being a mastermind to spend more time with yn

currently, alonso is trying to make it work with yn, and is contemplating on leaving after the 2023 season to be with them

★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol

#f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso imagine

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lazyneonrabbitt · 24 days

Text

Rough times.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested: Hi! Would you be willing to maybe do a one shot with Daryl x reader in a pre established relationship but the reader is pregnant with a child that doesn't belong to him and she isn't proud of? (non-con if you're comfortable with that) Some angst about the reader being worried he won't love her once he finds out 👀

Warning: Non-con, unwanted pregnancy, some angst but happy ending.

What you had with Daryl started early on at the quarry. You were one of the few who didn't look at the Dixons with disgust and actually appreciatwd their hunting efforts and looked past the less than pleasant habits the older brother had.

After Daryl returned injured from his search for Sophia, you were his primary caretaker seeing he was calmest around you. By the time he got back to good health you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Only you two knew, no one else really noticed much of a difference seeing you still slept in your own tents and never kissed. You were both too new to relationships and seeing Daryl needed to get used to being no longer on his own you agreed to let it all take as long as it needed.

When you arrived at the prison and cleared it enough to call home you shared a cell. Well, you slept in the cell in front of where Daryl laid out his matres and he used your cell to change and store his items.

By now you ate breakfast together and paired up on guard shifts. You were always at the gate to welcome him back after hunts and eventually he's always stick around after bringing you the meat at the outside kitchen after taking in the woodbury folks.

Yet still you were at loving smiles and shoulder touches, sometimes the short hug goodnight.

It was only the night before the prison fell you shared your first kiss.

And then you were on your own.

The Governor attacked and ended any posibility of returning to the prison and all you heard between the chaos was "RUN!" so you ran. You ran like crazy until you couldn't anymore and realized how screwed you were without your group.

It wasn't long before you were starving and tired, swaying in your walk to a point of not even noticing the men approaching you and catching you mid fall until you were in his arms. Your vision faded and you were out cold, not catching the man's words.

"Claimed."

When you woke up you were in a warehouse with a bunch of strange men and your guts told you to run. Run and find Daryl, or anyone from your group. Except you never made it far seeing they had plans for you.

One of them came to fetch you, held your wrists together behind your back and held you out for the others to stare. Then they started to offer things to the one holding you. Crazy stuff like weapons and food rations that would last a single person a week easily. The whole situation just kept getting worse and worse up to the point of you learning they were offering trades.

Trades of material worth to get time with you. And each trade was accepted and ranked from best to worst.

Ranked in what order they got to fuck you after the one who claimed you had finished.

You couldn't remember when or how long you were passed out when you were woken up by your owner, telling you to dress for a little trip.

He took you to a house not far from their warehouse spot and while he sounded kind and offered you food he only brought you there for some private one on one time..

You tried to stay strong, keeping faith in the fact that Daryl would find you and suffer theough this with the least possible resistance.

Lucky for you the house wasn't empty and just when your captor was going to make amove he was downed by no one else than Rick.

You cried the second he came into view. Letting it all out and dropping to your knees, clamped to his leg you sobbed inyo thr fabric of his pants. And he let you. He gave you the time to let it all out and calm down before he helped you up and took you downstairs to see Carl and soon out of the home to be back on the road.

Three days passed on the road with your refound group before your nightmares turn real when the group of men who assaulted you catch up and threaten to kill Rick and then the rest of you too.

Eyes wide you stared at the leader talk to Rick, no longer catching a single word when your eyes found him

Daryl.

Why was he with them?

Your surroundings blurred and sounds drowned out when the panic set in. Curled into yourself you only heard close gunshots and the accompanied loud ringing until a hamd rested on your shoulder where you sat against the side of a car.

"Y'alrigh?" Daryl's voice made you jump, sitting upright and throwing your full body against him, only to repeat the full crying session from inside the house again but this time against the leather of your boyfriend's vest.

Time passed and it seemed like you and Daryl were back on square one. Daryl blamed it on the trauma of having to flee the prison in the way it happened, but the truth was you still hadn't told him about your time apart.

You lost track of your days after your time with the group Daryl called the Claimers, not thinking about the whole situation much anymore until your third day in a row started with you puking up anything that hadn't been digested entirely yet.

The first two days you blamed the canned food and maybe undercooked meat but now you were hunched over at the side of the road when the harsh reality set in. This was in no way or shape a positive thing. Not after losing Lori in the way you did. Not because you were still without a more permanent home and even less because it wasn't Daryl who caused it. You hadn't been able to tell him what happened to you and you were out of time to prepare for the conversation.

You sat crouched and stared dead into the woods, trying your hardest to focus on a single leaf until your breathing was back to normal but your mind was too loud.

Your stomach emptied itself even further over the forest floor as sobs racked your whole body. You shivered as a cold sweat broke out. You and Daryl were already on worse terms than before the prison fell with being in survival mode constantly, there was no time to fhink about improving your relationship right now.

With your arms clutched around yourself you heaved as your stomach had nothing left to and your entire body hurt with every sob that left your lips.

"Hey," Daryl's voice and his hand on your shoulder had you freeze in panic. "Y'alrigh?"

It was now or never, forcing your head to shake. "No.." Your voice was barely above a whisper, and Daryl crouched down next to you to investigate. Your mind screamed at hou to lie. Fake being just ill and keep his mind on surviving for a while longer but your heart knew it was wrong.

You had already been lying to him for so long by not telling him immediately and you started to feel like it would be the proper punishment to be alone in this after you told him.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Instead of an answer Daryl was up and pacing at the edge of the road. You both knew it wasn't his and without hearing your side of story his mind went to every possible scenario that made him want to walk off and keep going until his legs gave out but you were still his partner. The teo of you might not have acted like it for a while but it was still true and he never forgot that.

He stopped at your side and leaned against a tree. "Talk.. please." He huffed the last word after seconds of silence, he needed to tone down the anger that came too natural to him.

You fell back on your ass and wiped your face on the bottom half of your sweater before steading your breaths and talking Daryl through the happenings of your time apart. The strange men, their deal that ended in the most traumatic night of your life and the trip to the house where Rick saved you and reuniting with Carl and Michonne up to where you met again.

When you finished your recollection of events you couldn't make yourself look up at Daryl. You felt like the worst person in exsistence for lying to him and it got only worse when he announced he needed some time and left.

You spent the days in the back of the RV, unsure if you should stay in this relationship and have Daryl raise a kid that wasn't his. Secretly you begged this world not giving you enough to have it survive long enough and go through the physical suffering of losing it but keep the man you loved.

Were you going to be okay, raising a child that that came into the world like this? Were you goinf to be okay dealing with a living, breathing reminder of what happened? Would Daryl?

You let this happen. You should have kept walking even if it killed you.

Daryl kept his word and hadn't been near you for a while. His time spent not hunting was filled with talking down at himself.

He let that happen. He should have been at your side. He should be at your side but he wasn't sure how he'd manage. He couldn't even go find the one who did it to you and make sure he suffered as much as you did since that whole group was dead by now.

The thought of you in such a situation almost cost him his life, the anger causing him to miss a walker on the ground under some leaves as it snapped at his leg and missed by a hair.

He took it out and stalked back to the group who by now lost their vehicles and had to travel on foot.the group knew about Daryl's anger and his inability to close off that part in a healty way. They knew of your doubts, your secret wishes and especially now traveling on foot they saw your tiredness, your sadness.

You spent all your time apart. Both unable to word the things in your minds as you ate dogmeat, got caught in a much needed rainstorm and hid in a barn where you were found by a stranger who claimed to have a community that would house you all.

A Whole month had passed after the horrible events and now you laid down in the community's infirmary, being examined after all the women of your group had dragged you into the room to be looked after and get needed supplements. The appointment made everything you still tried to deny true and you were sent back to your group with medication, vitamins and a sad heart.

Daryl watched how the women swarmed you and felt like the biggest asshole for not doing what they did. He should be there with you to comfort you about all of this. To tell you he'd make it all work as long as you two did it together. But why wasn't his body moving as he told himself this?

It was Rick's hand on his shoulder that pulled Daryl from his own mind back into reality. He was pulled up and taken along in the direction where you rested on the couch. Carol saw them and ushered the others aside, making sure Daryl had a place to sit beside you as Rick set him down and the others walked off.

"Hey," his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Even throigh your own still twisted nerves you could feel his and welcomed him into your space with a smile. He came to you and didn't run as soon as Rick's hands were off him, he stayed on his own.

"S'good fer ya ta hav'a roof over yer head now." He was fidgeting with loose ends on his clothes, hoping his words made sense.

"Yeah, you're right.." You should tell him. You have to tell him.

"You know you don't have to stick around, right? It's not your kid, not your problem." The words hurt coming out of your mouth, and they hurt reaching Daryl's ears.

He may not have shown it, solely because he didn't know how, but he loved you. "I ain't lettin' ya do this on yer own." You heard his spoken words and knew they translated to more. More that Daryl had a difficulty saying out loud.

It was moments like this you thanked not needing many words to understand each other. It was one of the things that attracted the two of you in the beginning after all.

Daryl wasn't going to leave you over this. He was willing to do this with you and it took a huge weight off your chest. It was going to take a while but you were going to be okay, the three of you.

When the group fully settled in their homes and everyone was welcomed into the community you spent a lot of time in the garage with Daryl. He wanted to keep an eye on you as the baby grew, but he still needed to get work done so he had set up a corner for you to lounge and read books in. He's catch you staring his way more often than not, but it didn't bother him if it was you.

"Denise came ta drop these off for ya." Daryl walked into the bathroom where you were soaking in the tub. He placed your refill pharmacy order on the counter and came to kiss your forehead, admiring your bump for a moment before retreating into the bedroom to lay down and wait for you to call for assistance.. You were okay with you being nude these days, although Daryl still preferred to have his upper body covered and slept in an old ratty shirt.

Daryl sat on his knees next to the bed, he held your hand, your thigh, the towels when Denise instructed him to do so. He was everywhere to make sure you were comfortable and cried the second the baby made a sound and cheers went around the room.

He watched as the women cleaned the baby girl and laid her down on your chest. He had moved from side to side, feeling like he was in the way of all the moving people that assisted in helping your child into the world but was assured he was exactly where he needed to be for now, up till Denise gave him new instructions after a while of him doing nothing but stare and admire.

Sniffling he made his way to the other side of the bed on the doc's orders and scooted against your shoulder.

His hands were shaking since the second Denise told him to go lay down and take off his shirt. He thanked himself for wearing a button down as he kept his back against the pillows and undid the buttons to only shove aside the front of his shirt so it hung off his shoulders.

This time it was Carol who came to help, showing the new parents how to hold and handle theit newborn as she took her from mom's chest and placed her on dad's.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Okay this one took me out. I'm sorry it took so long!!

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl

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