#and he says he's fine but you can start to see him sway a little when he stands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months

Text

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3

Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James

When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.

"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.

You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.

"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused.

"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.

Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.

"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.

Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens.

"Potter!" you slur.

James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny.

You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.

You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.

"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.

"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"

"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.

Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.

James isn't at all convinced you're okay.

Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can.

"She's just clumsy."

"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.

Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.

"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.

James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.

He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?"

"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead.

"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.

"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."

James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.

"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces.

"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he,"

You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.

James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.

He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.

James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."

Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears.

Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.

"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."

James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.

But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head.

James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?"

He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway.

James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"

James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.

"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.

James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?"

The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.

"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.

James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."

He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"

"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy."

And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you.

Ever.

* * *

"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."

James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.

"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention."

James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals.

He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."

Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door.

When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.

He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet.

If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this.

With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.

Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.

Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him.

Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me."

Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?"

James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"

If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.

Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically.

"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.

A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.

"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you.

His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"

James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."

You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"

You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"

Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say.

James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."

James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I really like you too."

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"

James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"

You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."

James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."

You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?"

"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"

You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.

Fuck, he's fucked.

You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over.

When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."

You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say.

James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.

It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.

4K notes · View notes

cutielando · 2 months

Text

driving around ~ lando norris

Summary: Lando is dating Max’s sister, who is too stubborn to admit that she is sick.

Words: 1.2k+

Other works: my masterlist

a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️

♡♡♡♡♡

“You’re not driving”

“Why not??”

“You’re sick, I’m not risking putting you behind the wheel just because you’re stubborn”

You had been bickering like this for nearly 10 minutes now, neither of you wanting to compromise for the other.

It’s not like you were that sick, you were coughing a bit, with a runny nose, sore muscles and a little temperature. You were basically fine and good to go.

But Lando didn’t agree on that.

He blamed what he called the “Verstappen stubborn gene.” He always made fun of you and your brother, Max, for sharing that stubborn trait that he hated so much.

It was also because he was a stubborn person as well, which meant that you would oftentimes clash regarding pretty much everything.

Just like you were doing now.

You were insisting to drive you and Lando to the track so he could get some more rest and the boy was having none of it.

“Just because I’m a little sick doesn’t mean I’m incapable of driving, Lando” you complained, rolling your eyes which hurt right in your sinuses.

That should have been the first sign to stop you from being so adamant to drive, but you weren’t about to give up so easily.

“Little sick? You’ve been burning up for 2 days and can barely get any sleep without waking up in cold sweat. You hardly eat anything and your sinuses are clogged” he reasoned, making you look at him.

He was right. Everything he was saying was the truth.

But it still didn’t sway you.

“It’s just a cold, I can manage just fine” you said before opening the door and getting into the driver’s seat.

Lando sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hates how stubborn you were at times, and he knew that his attempts to get you to let him drive would be in vain.

With that being said, he just sighed once again and got into the passenger seat.

“Just so we’re clear, I don’t condone this and I’m really not okay with you driving in this state” he said once he buckled up, tracking your every movement with his eyes.

“Babe, I’ll be fine. It’s just a short ride, it’s not like I’ll be driving for hours” you attempted to soothe him, but it clearly wasn’t working.

He only hummed and looked back at the road, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

As you started the relatively short drive from your hotel and towards the track, you could slowly feel your eyes burning, the soreness in your muscles escalating with each minute and your headache coming in strong.

It was in those moments that you knew he had been right and you shouldn’t have insisted on driving. You could feel nausea coming quickly onto your body, making you swallow harshly in order to tame it for now.

You had barely made it to the track safely, Lando already knowing that you would be way too tired to even watch the race after this.

“I told you so” he said, standing beside you as you weakly managed to get out of the car.

You glared at him, the movement hurting your sinuses even more.

“I just wanted you to get some more rest before we got here” you said, pouting at him with glossy eyes.

He sighed when he looked at you, bringing you into his arms right away. He kissed your forehead, frowning once he felt how hot you were and saw how sick you actually looked.

“I know you did, but baby, you’re sick. I don’t want to rest when you’re feeling like this, I want to take care of you. And I can’t do that when you argue with me and put me on the spot for wanting to help you” he said, gently trying to make you see that he only wanted what was best for you.

Deep down, you knew you had been wrong, and right now in Lando’s arms, you realized just how much you had needed his warmth and his hug.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn” your voice was small, but he still heard you.

“Come on, let’s get you to hospitality and find some medicine and a quiet place to rest for you” he let go of you and opened the door to take your bags, taking your hand and leading you to the McLaren hospitality.

He manages to avoid the paparazzi on the way to the motorhome, keeping you close to his body.

Once you got to the motorhome, Jon was waiting for Lando there, his eyebrows instantly furrowing once he saw the state you were in.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asked Lando once he sat you down at a table and wrapped his jacket around your body.

Lando sighed, looking back at how you were practically sleeping on the chair before he turned around to talk to his trainer.

“She’s been sick for the past few days and today she insisted on driving us to the track even when I told her she’s too sick to drive. We just barely got here okay because she got worse on the road” he explained, his voice hushed as he kept stealing glances at his passed out girlfriend.

“Have you talked to her doctor or something?” Jon asked worriedly, caring for you just as much as Lando ever since the two of you were introduced.

Lando nodded. “I did, she said we should just wait for it to pass, that she should get plenty of rest and shouldn’t do much, but you know how she is” he explained further.

“You have one stubborn girlfriend, mate” Jon joked, bumping his shoulder in order to help the driver relax.

Lando chuckled, nodding knowingly.

Just as he was about to say something else, you whined as you started to wake up, trying to wrap the jacket even tighter around your body.

“Lan?” your voice was small, your eyes slowly blinking open.

“I’m here, baby. Come on, let’s get you to a room where you can rest up. Jon will look after you” he said while picking you up bridal style.

The three of you made your way upstairs to a free room, Lando immediately bundled you up in your blankets that he brought for you and helped you take your medicine.

Even in your current state, somewhere between reality and sleep, you realized just how much you needed to rest and how truly sick you were.

“Thank you for taking care of me and sorry for insisting on driving today” you said when he finished fussing over you and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Lando shook his head, brushing a strand of your hair from your eyes.

“Don’t apologize, just get some rest and I’ll see you after practice, okay?” you nodded, settling into the tiny bed and allowing yourself to succumb to your sleep.

Lando left you in the room partly against his will, but with the reassurance that Jon would take care of you while he was in the car.

And, at the end of the day, he was always going to take care of you, no matter what.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

1K notes · View notes

arieslost · 2 months

Note

you have pushed me to ask so here I go

I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.

I want to hold on to him

I can't stop thinking about that tiktok

here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit

what a yummy man

the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this

hold on tight | op81

“Just one time?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No way.”

“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect.

“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”

“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms.

The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make.

In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met.

“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble.

“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?”

“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket.

“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”

“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.”

Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt.

“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says.

“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him.

“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.”

You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.”

“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already am a little bit.” You grumble.

That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head.

“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”

This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.”

He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him.

He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore.

Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine.

He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself.

“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time.

“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet.

“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.”

He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little.

“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”

“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.

“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.

It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.

“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates.

“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine.

As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.

It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.

You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time.

Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands.

He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.

“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.

“We are definitely doing that again.”

His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.”

word count: 1,787

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings

#aries answers #venus <3 #op81 week #full fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #op81 x you #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff

1K notes · View notes

ectologia · 5 months

Text

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ forced breeding ﾉ forced pregnancy ﾉ clit spanking ﾉ creampie ﾉ misogyny ﾉ rut ﾉ baby trapping ﾉ feral keigo ﾉ piss ﾉ marking ﾉ profanity

Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.

Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.

You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.

Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?

He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?

There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.

“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”

He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.

He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.

“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.

Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.

“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”

It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.

“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.

He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”

“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.

“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.

After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.

It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.

“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.

“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”

He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.

“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.

His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”

He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.

“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”

The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”

“Keigo, no!”

Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.

Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”

1K notes · View notes

perlelune · 6 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone.

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis.

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment.

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you.

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him.

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling.

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table.

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance.

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow.

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation.

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat.

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment.

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table.

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters.

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s.

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand.

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair.

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him.

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden.

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it.

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn.

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes.

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop.

Your head snaps up.

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat.

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you.

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it.

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest.

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier.

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus x reader

2K notes · View notes

silkjade · 8 months

Note

This js not a request or anything, I just wanted to tell someone about this😊

SLIGHT ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!!

(i think, soryr☹️)

Fontaine would be SO good for mermaid aus

Like imagine a wrio x mermaid!reader where wrio saw the reader first from that window In his office or what💪

Even better if the reader gets sick or just fatigue from the primodial water

And the guy is like: 😱😭

And then boom he has a mermaid with him, In his own office🤯

⤀ cw: fem!reader, no pronouns mentioned ⤀ a/n: OMG OKAY I FINISHED THE AQ && UR SO RIGHT ! this gave me sm brainrot wah i had to write a litto smthg >.< but I can see him being pretty chill about it too… (sort of a spinoff to the alhaitham mermaid au I guess hehe)

perhaps every so often, wriothesley would get tiny glimpses of you in between those giant stalks of seagrass, but the moment passes by so quickly that he just brushes it off as nothing. probably just a bubbler seahorse that wandered into the area or something

‘eh whatever. as long as it doesn’t pose a threat—there are weirder things out there.’

when he has his first suspicions that primordial seawater might be leaking into the normal seawater, he takes it upon himself to personally check on the pipes and investigate. however, once he gets to the abandoned zone at the end, he finds... a washed up mermaid ?

hes honestly a little bit amused as to how you could've ended up here, and his initial instinct was to just toss you back into the sea. but it's not like you're some otter caught in a fisherman's net; you’re breathing so laboriously and feverish to the touch, on the verge of passing out… so he scoops you up and takes you to sigewinne. which is how when you finally come to, you find yourself in a tank in the duke of meropide's office

(some headcanons below the cut ! a little bit suggestive at the end ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ )

he introduces you to tea, but it’s so bitter ! perhaps mermaid tastes are more aligned with that of melusines because wriothesley basically short circuits when you tell him you prefer sigewinne’s milkshakes

in his attempts to sway you to his side, he’s scouring his collection left and right, brewing different teas that he hopes you might like

“alright, how about this one? it's light, with a hint of sweet flowers and bulle fruit."

"i still like sigewinne's milkshake better."

speaking of sigewinne, she definitely catches all the minuscule changes in wriothesley's facial expressions whenever he talks to you. and so of course she and her melusine friends start adding stickers of you onto his belongings too.

he takes them off to save face but stashes them away somewhere in his desk

once you've recovered enough, he'd help you out of the tank, and when your tail dries into human legs, he'd take you on a tour around the fortress as 'a friend from the overworld.'

however, you notice how everyone else addresses wriothesley with his title and you worry that maybe you've been too casual with someone so important?

so when you also start addressing him as 'your grace,' during afternoon tea in his office, he almost chokes on his own tea. you tilt your head in confusion because his cheeks are so flush and he can barely look you in the eye. it takes him a second to gather his composure

oh archons above it makes him want to do unspeakable things hearing you say that, so at least for now....

"please, just wriothesley is fine."

continuation

#𓇼 — 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓳𝓪𝓭𝓮'𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓾 #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #mermaid au #mermaid!reader

2K notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

#reciprocal hurt/comfort & protectiveness because they notice each other and care so damn much. with a side of banter of course ❤️#pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

3K notes · View notes

domnamewoman · 8 months

Text

MK1 Characters Reaction: How They Act When They Get Clingy

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

“Did you call upon me?” Liu Kang asked as he sat next to you on the couch, before positioning himself with his head resting in your lap.

You look from your phone screen down at him. “No, I didn’t call you,” you responded, baffled at where he got such an idea. “I’ve actually just been enjoying my own company for a little while. Nice and quiet.”

“You must have called me in my head then,” Liu Kang said, making no moves to get up.

You rolled your eyes as he made himself more comfortable in your lap. “That’s a very convenient excuse for you to use just to cuddle me.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, knowing he’d been caught. “Since I’m here now, I might as well stay for a bit, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you can stay lying here,” you sighed as you began running your fingers through his hair.

Liu Kang closed his eyes, “I could stay here for eons.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Eons is a very long time, don’t you think you’d get bored of me at some point?”

“Never, I always want to be around you,” Liu Kang admitted, staring up at you lovingly.

“Y/N,” huffed Raiden as he walked into your office to see you still typing away on your computer.

You briefly looked up at him, taking note of the pout present on his face. “What’s wrong Raiden?”

“You said you would be done working over an hour ago,” Raiden sighed as he walked up behind you.

“My boss emailed me saying they wanted some documents earlier than expected, so I had to take care of it.”

“Not anymore,” Raiden said as he started massaging your shoulders, “Take a break.”

You shook your head. “Raiden I can’t just stop working because you are too clingy to be left alone.”

“Yes, you can,” Raiden reasoned as he leaned his head against your shoulder and tightly wrapped his arms around you. “I will stay here until you stop. You know I will.”

You let out a sigh knowing that he was right. “You can be so stubborn sometimes. Fine, just let me send this last document and I’ll be done.”

Raiden placed a kiss on your cheek, “And then you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“There you are, I thought you’d gone out without telling me.” Kung Lao said as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I’ve been here for over an hour. You’re not very good at seeking if you have been looking for me that long.”

“I missed you, it was lonely downstairs,” Kung Lao whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden affection. “I was just in the bedroom, it’s not like I was in a different Realm.”

“I know,” he hummed, nuzzling into your neck, “it felt that way though.”

You continued to look at him in confusion as he made himself comfortable. “Either you’ve done something, or you’re about to.”

“No,” he chuckled, resting a hand against your thigh, “I just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. Is that such a crime as your boyfriend?”

You shook your head, “It’s just very unlike you to be this clingy around me.”

“People change Y/N, this is the new me.”

“Don’t just sit there,” Johnny said as he danced around the living room, swaying his hips, “come and dance with me.”

You shook your head as you remained seated on the couch, “you know I’m no good at dancing. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, and I’ll watch you from here.”

“You always say no, it’s time to say yes,” Johnny said as he suddenly pulled you up and placed his hands on your hips.

“You can’t make me dance against my will, Johnny.”

“Watch me,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “just stay nice and close to me.”

You rolled your eyes as Johnny worked you two into a two-step. “Do you really want me to dance, or is this just an excuse?”

“An excuse for what?” Johnny questioned innocently. “All I am doing is dancing with you. Whatever you think is going on here is just all in your head.”

“Sure,” you said as you nodded skeptically. “So you’re going to deny the fact that you just want to be clingy?”

“Me? Clingy? I would never be such a thing.”

“Are you sure Liu Kang got the time correct?” You ask as you look around, seeing no one in sight.

Kenshi told you that Liu Kang caught wind of a shady meet-up happening and wanted you both to spy on the dealings.

“Uh… yeah. He said they would be meeting here around this time.” Kenshi said, not meeting your eyes.

“We’ve been waiting for almost an hour though,” you sigh, honestly you were getting kind of bored.

“You know how evil-doers are, never showing up on time…”

Something was off about the way Kenshi was acting. Now that you think about it, if something was happening here, why would Liu Kang only send you two? “Kenshi… is there really a mission?”

“Fine… There is no mission,” Kenshi sighs as he looks down, “I just wanted to spend time with you alone. The guys are always around.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You didn’t have to do all of this if you wanted to be clingy, you could’ve just asked me out on a date.” You stand up and hold out your hand to your boyfriend, “Come on, you owe me an “all you can eat” at Madam Bo’s for waiting here so long.”

“All you can eat… Madam Bo’s prices are kind of…” Kenshi stops himself as he sees your expression, “Of course, anything for my love. Let’s go.”

“You don’t seem to have a fever,” you say as you hold the back of your hand to Kitana’s forehead.

“Are you sure”–cough–”I definitely feel hot and clammy,” Kitana says as she pulls the blanket up to her chin.

“Hmm, okay then, let me go get the royal physician,” You say as you stand from the bed, heading towards the door.

“Uh no no,” Kitana reaches out to stop you, “I don’t need the physician.”

“Kitana, you might have something serious. I don’t know anything about medicine, clearly since I couldn’t even detect your fever, so I can’t help you.” You try to reason with her, worried about her condition.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, just a little cold. Nothing some cuddles can’t fix,” Kitana suggests, smiling at you.

“How are cuddles going to help? You need medicine, some soup at the very least,” You turn to go to the kitchen, “Wait here, I will go make you something.”

“I’m not really sick,” Kitana admits as she gets out of bed and walks over to you, “I just wanted to cuddle.”

You embrace your pouting girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead. “You know, I think I feel that fever now. I believe a healthy dose of cuddles should clear it right up.”

“Wow, you look amazing,” Mileena said in awe as you came into the room, giving her a twirl to show off your outfit. “You are definitely staying by my side the entire night.”

You shook your head, “This is your first event as Empress. You have to mingle with the people and not stay glued to my side all night long, promise?”

“I can’t make any promises when you look this stunning.”

You playfully bop her nose, “Mileena, if you are going to cling to me all night, I will stay home. You can’t waste this opportunity to make a good impression on the people.”

“You might help me impress,” her eyes raked over you, “especially with how good you look.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine, but you aren’t allowed to be clingy. I’m not your priority tonight, I’m just supporting you.”

“You are always my priority,” Mileena whispered in your ear, “besides, I can cling to you and mingle with the people. I’m good at being subtle.”

“You have never been subtle in all the time I’ve known you.”

“Well,” Mileena said, guiding you to the door, “there’s a first time for everything.”

“I knew I smelled food,” Tanya said as she entered the kitchen and found you leaning over the stove, preparing dinner.

“Go away, I know what you’re doing. I don’t need your help or advice.” You said as you pushed her away when she came up behind you.

“We can cook together, it’s romantic,” Tanya persuaded.

You shook your head, knowing your girlfriend. “We don’t cook together, you always take over. I know you’re the better cook, but I want to do this for you for once.”

“Fine, I’ll be quiet,” Tanya compromised, “Just let me stay here and watch you.”

You looked at her skeptically, “You really want to watch? Fine, if you want to be clingy then I guess I’ll let you stay.”

“Yes, I want to be clingy,” Tanya smiled as she quickly pecked your lips. “I know I said I would be quiet, but that pot is bubbling almost to the point of being unsalvageable.”

You whip around to see the pot almost spilled over. “See, this is your fault for being so clingy,” You sigh as you lower the heat.

“Mhmm, sure it is.”

“Then what you want to do is grab their arm and bring it over your shoulder like this,” Bi-Han demonstrated, “After that, you can use the momentum to throw them on the ground.”

“Mhm, and why are you teaching me basic throws again?” You questioned. When Bi-Han said he wanted to do some sparing practice, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

“So you can learn them, of course.”

“Bi-Han, I’m one of the Lin Kuei’s top fighters. I know how to do basic throws.”

“Really, then show me,” Bi-Han said as he charged at you.

You quickly side-stepped him and grabbed his arm, leaning down and throwing him over your shoulder, executing the move flawlessly.

“I guess you do know them,” He grunted from the ground.

You squat down next to him, sighing, “What is really going on here, Bi-Han?”

He sat up, resting one arm on his bent knee and looking down dejectedly. “I wanted to have some extra time with you but I couldn’t pull you away from your duties unless it was for training.”

“Oh my, is the great Grandmaster being clingy?” You taunt. “Come on then. I think I need to work on my ground moves,” You said before tackling him.

“Shouldn’t we have arrived by now?” You ask Kuai Liang. You two were walking to a new restaurant, where you would be meeting Tomas and Bi-Han for dinner.

“It’s just a little further up the road.” Kuai Liang reassured.

“Hmm, didn’t Bi-Han say that it wasn’t far from the house? We’ve been walking for a while now.”

“He’s not that great with directions,” Kuai Liang dismissed, “Anyway, isn’t this nice? Look at the full moon, it’s a beautiful night.”

“Yes it is,” you said looking at the sky, “But I don’t want us to be late, maybe I should call?”

“There’s no need for that,” he insisted as he grabbed your hand, holding it as you two walked.

You nod, dropping the issue. It was a beautiful night and you enjoyed the romantic atmosphere surrounding you and your boyfriend as you walked together. That is until you spot a familiar-looking merchant’s cart. “Wait a minute, we pasted this cart before. Have we been walking in circles?”

You look at your boyfriend, who is conveniently not meeting your gaze. You stop walking and stand in front of him. “Maybe…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I wanted a little alone time with you before meeting them at the restaurant.”

“I can’t believe this,” you chuckle, playfully hitting his chest. “If your clinginess has made me miss out on the steamed buns you’re in trouble. You know Bi-Han always tries to eat all of them.”

“Are you really going out?” Tomas asked as he saw you dressed up and collecting your things to leave. “I thought we could spend the evening in and watch a movie.”

You shook your head, “Sorry baby, I’m meeting Kung Lao and Raiden at Madam Bo’s for dinner. We have had this planned for weeks, it’s the one day we are all free.”

“This is my last day free this week before I’ll be busy again.”

“I know, but we spent all day together yesterday. I’m surprised you aren’t tired of me. All of your free time is spent with me.”

“I like it that way,” Tomas pouted as he followed you around the room, “What if you invite them here instead?”

“Madam Bo has a new dish she is dying to have us try.”

“Oh… alright.”

You look up to see the dejected look on your boyfriend’s face. You couldn’t stand to see him upset.

“I suppose you could tag along. The boys wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes, that’s great. Just give me one moment,” Tomas said happily, kissing your cheek before rushing off to get ready.

“Are you sure you have time for this?” You ask Syzoth as you two walk through the farmer’s market picking out vegetables.

“Of course I do,” Syzoth reassures moving in close behind you as you look at tomatoes, “I never get to go shopping with you.”

“That’s because you’re busy being the Empress’s Mercenary,” You smile at him over your shoulder, “Which is why I’m surprised you’re free right now.”

“I know r-”

“Syzoth,” Syzoth was interrupted by someone calling his name. You both look over to see Tanya. “There you are, the Empress has been looking for you.”

You turn and raise your eyebrow at your boyfriend, “Syzoth… I thought you said you had the morning off?”

“I’ll be there in one moment,” Syzoth addresses Tanya before looking back at you sheepishly. “Uh… I kind of skipped work this morning when you told me you were headed to the market.”

“Syzoth,” You say exasperatedly, “Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. I’m always working and I… I miss you.”

You sigh, pulling your clingy boyfriend in for a kiss. “Okay, go see the Empress. I’ll make sure I stay up late tonight so we can spend some time together when you get home.” You promised.

“You really don't have to come with me," You said as you walked with Baraka. Liu Kang sent you on a simple mission and Baraka insisted on going with you.

"It doesn't hurt to have backup," Baraka reasoned.

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this one on my own."

"I do not doubt your fighting skills. But there is always the possibility of something unexpected happening. You can not predict everything." Baraka said as he walked closer to you.

You couldn't argue with that logic. But… "You've never offered to go with anyone else on a solo mission."

"Well…" Baraka trailed off at a loss for words.

"Did you just want to spend time with me?" You ask, smiling widely at him.

“What is wrong with that,” Baraka stated, not at all ashamed, “It is not a crime for me to want to spend time with my lover.”

“No, it's not,” You agreed as you bumped your shoulder into him, “It just makes you clingy.”

Shang Tsung stared at you in annoyance. “Do you plan on turning a page anytime soon?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can’t rush a reader. I’m immersing and absorbing every detail of this story.”

“You’re doing this on purpose to tease me.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. He was right. “I’m not doing anything on purpose. I’m simply reading a book. It’s a good story, you would enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy your attention more,” Shang Tsung mumbled.

You let out a chuckle, “I never knew you could be so clingy.”

“I’m not clingy. It’s just that you have never taken this long to read a book.”

You smile as you close your book and set it down. “No, I haven’t, but it was fun seeing how far I can push you.”

“Stop pushing and come over here,” Shang Tsung replied as he opened his arms waiting for you to fall into them.

“Do you need some help?” Zeffeero poked his head in and asked for the fifth time in under an hour.

“No Zeffeero, I’m still okay,” you roll your eyes. You were rearranging your office and Zeffeero just couldn’t seem to let you be.

“Are you sure? That desk looks heavy, I’ll take it,” He said as he walked in and replaced your hands with his, “Where do you want it?”

“Up against that wall,” You point, finally giving up and letting him help. You watch as he moves the desk where you told him to.

“Is there anything else you need?” Zeffeero asks eagerly.

“No, I got it. I’m just going to put the books in these two boxes on the bookshelf.” You told him.

“I’ll help you.” He said as he started taking the books out.

You cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, “What’s up with you? Why are you being clingy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He walks up to you and kisses your cheek, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

2K notes · View notes

mouschiwrites · 5 months

Note

Hey! Can I request head canons about the ninja finding the reader (their partner) wearing their clothes?

Finally getting around to clearing out my inbox! Here ya go, friend!!

Ninjago - Ninjas Finding You in Their Clothes

Kai

He notices that you’re wearing his shirt the second he walks in the room

He has a very good memory when it comes to what clothes he owns, so when he sees them on you, he knows them in an instant

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe

He lets out a long whistle, startling you

“Looking fine, babe. I like the shirt.”

“Yeah? You like my shirt?”

His smirk grows, and he saunters over to you

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into a kiss

He reminds you that it is, in fact, not your shirt

Cue the teasing that ends with you being chased around the house until Kai corners you and tickles you, refusing to let up unless you admit the shirt isn’t yours

As much as he likes seeing you in his clothes, he isn’t going to let you keep them

But he starts asking if you also want one whenever he gets a new clothing item, because he thinks you look totally hot in his clothing style

He just doesn’t want to have to give up any of his clothes; he needs them all to be available 24/7 for ✨fashion purposes✨

Cole

It takes him a second to realize it’s his hoodie you’re wearing

It’s the bagginess that he notices first; he’s a pretty big guy, so his clothes would most likely be at least a little big on you

The longer he looks, though, the more familiar the hoodie becomes

When he finally realizes, a huge grin blooms on his face

He walks up to you and envelops you in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground and swaying back and forth

He is absolutely elated that you’re in his clothes

He likes his clothes, and he likes you, so put those things together…

Perfection in his eyes

When he sets you down, finally allowing you to breathe again, he plants a kiss atop your head

“Please wear my hoodies more often. You look great.”

Even though they don’t fit you too well, Cole’s clothes are very comfy, so you take full advantage of his open-closet policy

What he loves most is getting something back after a while and finding that it smells like you <3

Jay

His initial thought is that you also happen to have a Starfarer shirt

He says as much, but when you give an amused giggle he gets suspicious

Going to his room, he finds his shirt gone

He comes running after you

“Thief! Get back here!”

“Heheheh, no!! It’s comfy!”

When he finally tackles you onto the couch, both of you laughing your lungs out, he peppers your face with kisses

He’s not really all that upset, he was just taken by surprise

In actuality he thinks you look great, and he tells you to keep the shirt

He thinks it’s cute that you borrow his clothes, and he probably tries to return the favor at some point

He’ll be over the moon if you let him wear your clothes from time to time

He’ll be really picky about what he takes, though, so you don’t have to worry about all your clothes suddenly disappearing

Except for hoodies. Lock them away. He will steal them all.

Zane

He notices you in his clothes immediately

He was aware that he was missing a tunic, so he made the connection pretty quickly when he saw you in it

At first he’s just confused

“Are all your clothes unfit for wearing? I did the laundry yesterday—”

“No, I just… wanted to wear yours.”

He’s still pretty confused, but he can tell that you’re happy so he lets it go

He knows it’s some kind of affectionate thing, but he doesn’t understand it personally

He starts purposefully putting some of his clothes in your drawers, just so you don’t have to “steal” them

He doesn’t care when you wear those, but he does get a little irked when you do steal from his wardrobe

Not genuinely upset, though; he just dislikes the confusion of finding something missing

As long as you let him know beforehand, he has no trouble letting you borrow whatever you want :)

And perhaps he’ll even let you keep it…..

Lloyd

Lloyd turns pink in the cheeks when he sees you in his shirt

The corner of your mouth quirks up mischievously when you see this

“Something wrong?”

“That, uh… is that my shirt?”

A smile curves his lips as he says it, but his face is still very much a dark shade of red

He thinks you look fantastic—but that’s only part of the reason that he’s blushing

The idea of you wearing something that he wore…

Indirect hug

He settles down next to you to give you a direct hug too :)

He thinks it’s cute to borrow each others’ clothes

To him it’s a sign of intimacy

So of course you guys set up an open-closet policy, and you guys often lounge in each other’s clothing

Nya

She gets so excited when she sees her shirt on you

She thinks all her clothes are nice, so she’s glad to see that you apparently agree

Enough to have stolen her shirt without asking, anyway

She wraps her arms around you from behind, pinching at the fabric and grinning

“Cute shirt.”

“Isn’t it? I got it from a place called ‘Nya’s Closet.’”

“That’s where all the good stuff is!”

She literally drags you to her room and starts pulling out clothes she thinks you’d look nice in

You guys have a little fashion show that ends late, with clothes everywhere, you in her pjs and her in yours

Needless to say, she’s more than happy to share her clothes

She knows they’re irresistibly stylish; she’s just happy you have good taste

Thanks for reading!! And thank you for your request :) take care duckies!! <33

(divider by saradika)

902 notes · View notes

ryunnggg · 5 months

Text

Naughty - ITZY Yuna

9230 words

"Is it time for my detention, Mister Y/n?" cooed Yuna, strutting forward across the classroom and flaunting the Q heart on her cheek, an out in the open sign of her lust for white cock while she moved happily forward.

The door was locked and the hallways had finally emptied. It was likely only Yuna and Mister Y/n left in the school, give or take the janitor and some loose teachers sequestered away to feverishly grade. Nobody who could get in the way, letting the brunette sway and swish between the desks on her way toward the front of the class. "Time for me to learn how bad a girl I've been, and how much I need to be fixed?"

"It's only us here, 'Y/n' will be fine," said Mister Y/n. A substitute teacher from America working abroad to see Korea, about a decade older than Yuna. Handsome, decently muscular, very white, with a well kept beard and slicked back auburn hair. "It's just us."

"If I'm not calling you my teacher, maybe I should call you daddy instead," purred Yuna, rushing faster across the classroom to get to him. "Maybe you should pull out your huge, white cock and force this disobedient little Korean jailbait slut to get on her knees and choke on it. For detention! To teach me a lesson, Mister Y/n." Yuna leaned over her foreign teacher's desk, smile brightening as she wiggled enticing toward him, begging for his attention. "Don't you want to discipline me?"

Yuna was a danger. She was too powerful, coy and ruthless and fully able to weaponize her raw sexuality against Mister Y/n. Not that he minded, of course. "I think I need to hear some things out of your mouth to be worth disciplining," he told her, his hardening cock begging to slide into her mouth and ruin her.

"Oh? Like what, sir? Like saying I'm a filthy, needy Korean slut who can't keep from fantasizing about her American teacher's fat, white cock? That I'm a little bleachbitch who is going to find foreign men to fuck her throat whether it's you or not? Is that worth punishing me, Mister Y/n? Does the threat I'll go find other hung white studs to bleach my pussy and fuck some white babies into me make you angry enough to punish me?"

Yuna was unreal. Y/n had absolutely not come to Korea to teach solely so that he could date a Korean teenager, but he was absolutely unrepentant about doing so, rising up from his seat with his cock freed from his pants. A massive, throbbing, glorious, white cock that Yuna leaned immediately forward to begin to worship. No hesitation, just her mouth clung to the side of his shaft and slobbering all over it, praising it with kisses and hopeless obsession as she fell into the joy of what she needed most. Yuna understood what she was, what she wanted, and she didn't try to pull away from that, accepting and embracing her desires fully.

"I love white cock," she moaned, a little drunk on excitement from the very start. The burning desperation urged Yuna forward, licking all over her teacher's aching dick, already hard from her words and from just knowing what 'detention' after school entailed. The sloppy spectacle behind her love and her hunger was overbearing, direct, driven by an underlying desire to blow his mind and make him crave her on a level so fundamental that he'd never shake it off. Yuna knew her part and she knew how to wear him down for that, slobbering noisily on his dick, peppering it with kisses in a hazy show of wanton adoration. Her kisses ran along the length of his cock, messily praising his length. "This cock fits so deep in me. Only white men can hit girls in those places."

Y/n didn't try to contain himself, his head rolled back and his fingers running along the back of Yuna's head, trying not to take too much charge too quickly. He was absolutely unrepentant about these joys, about having this sweet girl doting on his cock and lavishing him with all the praise she could muster, so sloppy and loving and intense. Yes, she was closer to half his age than to his age. No, he didn't care. The burn of these spectacular lusts carried him deeper, kept him hungry for her touch and ready to feel her give him everything. "Should girls your age really be such bleached sluts?"

"Yes, of course!" gasped Yuna. "We should. We all should. If Korean teenage girls didn't bother with silly crushes on disappointing Korean boys and went right to serving white men, we'd be so much happier." She continued to flutter her kisses all over his cock, throwing in licks and sloppy adoration, both hands gripping his massive cock to continue tending to it and to continue delving in to the slow-burning surrender that this offered her. Yuna felt unstoppable, wanting only to push on harder, hotter, to let the sloppy lusts carry her into the deep end. "I'm so lucky that I have a big, strong, white man who fucked my jailbait pussy before I could give my virginity to any two-pump three-inch Asian boys."

Every word made Y/n's cock throb harder, drove him mad with desire. He wasn't exactly holding back or discouraging what Yuna was up to, but the weight of these wild pleasures definitely did to him things that felt maddening for how intense they were, how hotly the wants shuddered across him. He didn't try to fight it. He didn't resist her words or her touch. But the weight of just how intensely she delved into bleached talk and hard raceplay on a dime was always a bit staggering to him. Not that he didn't also encourage her along. "I saved you."

"My white savior," she moaned in turn, licking slowly up along the underside of his cock, toward his head, before she sucked it down deep, letting the lust carry her to the pleasure and the fever of senseless excitement now without restraint. The pleasure was just there to give in to, maddening in a spiral of devotion and lust to succumb to. The thick cock filled her mouth, made her jaw loosen to take him all in, but she was devoted and determined, forcing herself to sloppily revere this glorious white cock, to lose herself to what it demanded from her. Yuna was so ready to please, so hungry for white dick, and she wasn't able to pretend she could contain herself along her hunky, foreign boyfriend's length.

She pushed deep, hasty and sloppy, relentless in how she pushed onward to let loose the wicked satisfactions that she craved. The pleasure carried her to need this, to crave whatever she could get from the depths of these satisfactions now. It was pleasure she didn't feel able to process, struggling through these wants and through the need for warmth that this invited her to fall in to. Yuna felt unstoppable, every moan and push and slurp making her white stud feel better, want her more. She looked up into his eyes, saw the stares she received back, and everything he offered her made her burn brighter. Her desperation was unreal, and as she let him hit the back of her throat, Yuna remained committed and unstoppable.

"You're such a dirty slut. I need to keep you here in detention with me, so you don't go looking for strangers to bleach you instead." He grabbed the back of her head, finally taking some harder charge, forcing her deeper down his cock, easing into more of her throat.

Yuna was happy to choke him down, happy to give herself up to these sloppy, wild delights with less and less restraint with each passing second. She was unstoppable, ravenous, burning with unreasonable desperation and a need to let the pleasures carry her deeper. There was no resisting this, no fighting how nice it felt to give up fully. She needed to surrender to these lusts, giving in deeper to his touch, letting herself be the hazy, ditzy bleachslut she knew she was. Signaling with each motion of her head just how ready she was to serve him, Yuna let obsession consume her. It was easy to get into the right frame of mind to mindlessly be a slut for white cock. Especially Y/n's. The teacher before her was fully deserving of the most she could offer, prepared to submit in full, to accept how far down into lust she was ready to slide, unable to resist the allure and the chaos of surrender and desire now.

Throbbing harder in her mouth as she gave him what he wanted, Y/n tried his best to contain himself. "Such a dirty little whore. I see you in class, daydreaming about raising my kids, giving up on your idol life to be a white man's slutwife. You want it so badly, don’t you?"

"Gluk gluk," was all Yuna offered in response, continuing to slide down into the lust of his demanding touch, continuing to fall apart with less and less of a clear idea how to deal with her own ruin. Yuna didn't understand how she could have so easily crumbled to one cock like this, but it was all she cared about, the rightful plunge into beautifully demented surrender and a lust carrying her to need to give in. She was obsessed, devoted, bleached past the boundaries of reason, fully obsessed with her teacher's cock and with drooling all over it, fitting him into her mouth and bobbing along his shaft, letting her throat adore every inch of his shaft in impressive, relentless desire. Yuna felt unstoppable. Felt ready.

The bliss carried the moment into deeper, compromising fever, into pleasures that she was unable to resist or hold back. The pleasure just kept ripping across her thoughts, tearing with thunderous joy through her body, carrying Yuna to want to fall to pieces and to need whatever she could find in his touch now. The sucking did its work, tending to every inch of his cock, slathering it in spit, encouraging the wild, mad throbbing in her throat that told her that she was well on her way to tending to all of this. It was a beautiful feeling, a surrender to pleasure and desire she didn't try to hold back now. The pleasure felt outrageous, but she knew that as good as she felt sucking him off, Y/n felt at least as good getting this relentless deepthroat adoration.

Probably, right? Y/n had to enjoy having his cock sucked as much as Yuna enjoyed sucking it, at minimum. Y/n himself wasn't even so sure of that.

But the continued reverence and sloppiness and spectacle behind Yuna's deepthroat worship kept up a pace as reckless as could be, and Y/n didn't know if he could contain all of it.

Hotter groans carried him deeper in to these wicked pleasures, the need to continue to surrender to, all driven by the want that made him want to fall to pieces. "I'm gonna cum," he warned.

Yuna was happy to jerk back, smiling bright and welcoming his load. "All over me, daddy," she whined, jerking his cock off with both hands, moaning in sloppy reverence, serving his needs deep. "I want to wear white cum all over my face, like a good bleached whore," she moaned. She continued to tend to him, jerking him off faster, harder, throwing herself in to these wild pleasures. She didn't hold anything back, every stroke reckless, forceful, direct,

until he came all over her face. Hot ropes of gooey spunk splattered across her bright features, with Yuna moaning through all of it, her eyes shut to receive his massive load. Y/n always came hard, always made a gooey mess of her, splattering across her face with unbelievable desire.

With spunk dripping from her face and a shaky warmth washing over her body, Yuna needed only to surrender deeper. She licked some cum off of her lips and grabbed at his body, not satisfied yet. She wanted more.

"Can you take me home tonight?" she asked. "To keep an eye on me. Make sure I don't do anything. Maybe..." She leaned forward to plant more kisses onto his cock head again. "Maybe fuck a white baby into me. Please, Mister Y/n. I'll do anything. I'll eat your ass like a good Korean girl and make you so happy that you have to take me back with you."

An offer like that wasn't one any man could have been strong enough to fight. Turning quickly around, Y/n pushed his hips back and got a knee up onto his desk, leaning forward to show off his ass, his dangling balls, and his spit-shined cock to his teenage whore. "Do it," he told her. "From the moment I showed you my cock and you fell to your knees instead of calling the cops, I knew you were something special. Prove how special you are."

Yuna didn't need to be told twice. Shoving forward, she buried her face right into her favorite treat: white man ass. Grabbing his cock to stroke it and milk a load out of him, she got to work at licking against his rim slithering with her sloppy love across his ass, letting the wild desire carry her to want more and more of this. There was no restraint to hold her back from the sheer depth of her lusts now, carrying her to just have to give in to these lusts, to surrender to what she knew was the absolute only way forward.

Her tongue slithered around in broad strokes tending to the ass with hopeless obsession. This wasn't the most dignified way forward, but she needed it, moaning loudly through her feasting delight, committed to being consumed utterly by need and sloppy desire. Lust carried her to want to fall to pieces, to need to surrender to lust. Yuna loved eating white ass, and she threw herself into it with the gusto that such a glorious thing deserved. She rubbed her face in his ass, moaning, slobbering, letting her cock drunk lust carry her in serving him 'properly'.

"Such a good little ass eater," he groaned, reaching back to grab her head and pull her in. Yuna loved praise, and the more he gave her, the better she performed. It was a clumsy balancing act, something carrying him to want more and more of these lusts. There was no escape for Yuna, but she didn’t want any escape. She wanted to keep pushing, keep slobbering, keep revering this white man and giving him everything she could. The burn of these desires were too steep not to.

"I love slobbering all over my white man's ass hole," she moaned, sounding territorial and greedy while licking down to begin slurping on his heavy nuts, too. She was happy to pepper kisses all over his taint on the way down, reckless, ravenous, driven by a desire only to keep serving and slobbering. The pleasure continued to do to her things she didn't care about resisting, the unrestrained joy and greed to fall in to. There was only pleasure to give in to here, drunk on the sweet surrender and the delirium of needing more. The continued surrender to give in to offered to Yuna what she needed most. She sucked one of his balls into

her mouth and left his sac slathered in spit too, insisting herself into the moment as hard as she could. "Keep going. Keep telling me how good I am at serving white men."

"How about the fact I haven't fucked any of your classmates, because you're such a perfect bleached whore that I haven't needed to look for another girl?" He ground back against her face, savouring the ways she made him feel as she licked back up his taint to make out with his ass hole again. There was no restraint for Yuna, no moment where she could hold back or imagine controlling herself, letting the burning hunger carry her to a further depth of ruin and desire now. She needed to keep slobbering and serving, tending to his ass harder. His words made her lose her mind, the 'kind' praise of something that urged her harder forward, kept her desperate to make him feel all the things she hoped might help her fall to pieces now. The greed carried her to a lot of weirder places, to a satisfaction and a hunger she couldn't do anything about.

The sloppy lust carried her to need more of him, slurping on his ass hole while she jerked his cock harder and quicker. Switches down to lick his balls kept things fresh, surprising him with the messy fever of what she was at, delving on these pleasures and keeping up with something meant to make him burn with need. Yuna felt clingy, needy, burning with a desperate desire to make him feel good centered around the worry that if she didn't, he'd go find some other girl to bleach, and she could not let that happen. A little jealous, a little territorial, keeping up her passion. "Korean tongue feels best against white ass holes, doesn't it, sir?" she moaned.

"The best, especially yours." Gripping the table and keeping steady so she could work at his touch, Y/n was lost to these pleasures, struggling to hold himself together as she jerked him off faster and harder, both hands mercilessly working to tend to him while he fell in deeper. She was a complete wreck, but the pleasures continued on with burning excitement. Yuna was happy to not rat him out and to not bring him any trouble for exposing himself in front of one of his students, keeping her as his girlfriend. Yuna was desperate for it, ready to please him and ready to give him everything he desired. She was happy to keep him giving in, happy to tend to his every desire and to lick his ass hole like a good slut.

There was simply no way that Y/n could have let a girl like her go. Shuddering through these hopeless pleasures, allowing passion to be his undoing, he gave in deeper, messier, unable to resist the pleasures that continued to ruin him in the name of losing himself. "You're so fucking good. Keep going, Yuna. You're the best. You're going to--oh, fuck, you're the perfect Korean girl."

That made her moan like she was cumming, just from the pride and the glee alone, throwing into a beautifully deranged burn of passion, the pleasure carrying her to fall apart utterly under his touch, giving in to the pleasure in full, accepting it as all she could do, the unrelenting joy of crumbling to pieces for him. For a white man. For her white man. She jerked him off faster and she relentlessly tonguefucked his ass in pursuit of more of that praise and of the chance to make him erupt all over her again.

With a sudden groan and a twist around, Y/n smacked Yuna across the face with his cock in trying to turn himself around as quickly as he could. The impact didn't shock her too much, and Yuna did her best to take it, moaning appreciatively and allowing his cock to blast across

her face with another messy load. More cum that splattered onto her beaming smile, keeping her overjoyed to be giving up to all of this. She took the facial in pride, loving the feeling of his cum all over her face, the dripping mess she received and the joy that she found in so wholly lost to this. Yuna savoured everything about this mess, jerking his cock off and making sure she wrung out every drop before drawing back with a gasp of pure delight.

"I can go home with my white daddy now, right?" Yuna asked, dragging cum off her cheek with her fingers and licking it off. "I've been a good girl and earned it?"

Y/n stared at Yuna with cum dripping down her face, knowing full well that there was only one answer to that question.

******************************

Down on her knees in the car, there wasn't much for Yuna to do but suck his balls. Hidden under the steering wheel while he drove home, she hadn't actually wiped anything off of her face, leaving all the clear mess of her lustful, slutty surrender right there on the spot. It just made her feel better that way, slapping herself with his huge cock while she sucked on his balls, slurping noisily on them and giving them some devoted love, having rimmed his ass hole and deepthroated his cock already otherwise. The insistence and the raw desire behind this was all so simple, so direct, built on Yuna's hopeless hunger and just how badly she craved white cock.

"Fuck, you make it hard to focus," groaned Y/n, trying his best just to drive and not go off the road even with the gorgeous idol slurping his nuts. It was an amazing burn of pleasure, the heat to keep giving in to, pleasure enticing him to want more and more of this. There was a pleasure to this to keep giving in to. It was pleasure direct and messy and enticing him to just need to sink in to this. All of it. Dragged into the weirder pleasure to continue falling in to left Yuna needing to give up to this. She shook under the wild pleasure to give in to hotter, the satisfaction to want more and more of. "Such a perfect slut. You were born to be bleached."

"All Asian women are," moaned Yuna, slapping his cock across her face, keeping up the pleasure and keeping up the huger and the fever of wanting to give in hotter, needing more of these pleasures that continued to plunge her into this, deeper and sloppier fever that continued to sentence her to this demise. She didn't try to contain herself now, keeping up this pace and keeping the pleasure burning across her. Messier fever and fire continued its desires, and she let the passion carry her deeper in to all of this, a hungrier fever and a passion she just wanted to embrace in full. The unquenchable desire continued to do to Yuna things she couldn't resist, giving in to all this lust and falling to pieces under what it demanded from her now. She needed it, and nothing could hold back her cravings.

The taste of his balls drove her wild. Yuna didn't care if she came off like a sloppy addict. She didn't want to be anything less, didn't want to even pretend she had a capacity now for restraint. There was only the satisfaction of giving in to this, craving whatever he could do to her and accepting how ready she was to just give up to it. Everything inside of Yuna craved this singularly obsessive burn, a moment of devotion and fire she didn't try to resist.

Everything she did was direct, sloppy, burning up within her as she pushed against it now. Sucking on these heavy, white balls let Yuna focus on how full they were, how ready to blow

they surely were. On the idea that what she really needed was to give in fully to these sloppy spectacles. It was everything to her now, a dead end rush of lust burning her up from within.

It was only ball worship, but it was also reverence of a white man's ability to breed girls like her. Even after blowing two loads all over her face, Y/n’s nuts felt so heavy, so ready to blast rope deep into her womb. White men were so fertile and indomitable, and she praised his nuts, knowing they were the key to blowing her mind and making her feel all the sloppy, wild emotions that she craved so badly. Yuna didn't care about restraint, needing to push forward, needing to accept the surrender inviting her to fall to pieces. It was just too good not to, the sweeping desire and delight of letting this plunge carry her into depths from which she was never going to escape. That was good. That was how she wanted it. With every sloppy push forward, Yuna focused herself on tending to his balls, on slapping herself with his cock. Just out of view, she tended to her teacher's cock, ready and sloppy and surrendering everything to these pleasures now.

This was impossible for Y/n to focus through, but he was so happy to let the pleasures carry him on deeper in to this mess of ruin and hunger. The pleasure remained so insistent, driven by the sloppiest of passions, by desires to keep riding out. The pleasure kept him hungry and reckless, driven by the sloppiest of passions, needing only to seek out how good it could feel to let everything go. There was only pleasure to this mess, the pursuit of ever-sloppier, ever- filthier lust. There wasn't a shred of restraint behind her devoted, throbbing passions now. He was such a lucky fuck, and he didn't pretend otherwise, letting Yuna's every doting push keep him well adored, tended to with unbelievable excitement, needing to savor these sloppy lusts and every desire that came with it. Letting Yuna adore him was the only way forward, the only possible relief he could have wanted, and it carried him to need more. To crave it. To let himself give in.

Smacking herself silly with his cock and letting her thoughts fall apart, Yuna kept up her sloppy attention, moaning harder on his balls while she slobbered all over them. "I'm going to drink your cum this time, because I don't want you to stop being able to see my pretty face under all this cum. I want you to know you're fucking a gorgeous Korean teen with every stroke, daddy." Her 'daddies' were strategic little missile strikes to drive him mad, and they kept working perfectly to drive him mad.

Y/n took one of his hands off the driving wheel and grabbed her head, shoving her deep down his cock. Yuna said she was going to drink it, but 'drink' implied she would swallow. Y/n didn't let Yuna swallow, forcing her to deepthroat his cock and pumping into her with unrelenting greed, the pressure and the chaos of fever that pushed her over the line. She struggled through letting him pump his load directly into her stomach, the moaning ecstasy carrying her in hazy surrender and a beautiful madness she didn't have any idea how to resist this. Maddening pleasure carried her to fall fully to pieces under the pleasure of all this pleasure, the heat of needing to just give up to all of it. It was a brilliant mess of desire and need and hunger to give up to, and she didn't have a prayer against it.

"We're almost there," he told her. "Just stay down there until I stop, okay?"

Yuna was happy with that, suckling on her daddy's fat white dick like a hungry little baby pig. She would have been happy doing this all day instead of having to suffer with actual class work.

******************************

Back at Y/n's, Yuna was happy to immediately fling herself to her teacher, stripping herself out of her clothes and unveiling the luscious mess that her body had become. Red ink all over her fit idol body made clear what she was about. The Q-laden heart on her cheek was only the beginning of the mess she'd made of her body. There was the row of heart vines along her thigh, the words 'WHITE BABIES ONLY’ lovingly rendered and framed in floral accents to serve as a womb tattoo. Hearts and roses and motifs around them enshrined other phrases like 'RACE TRAITOR', 'HAPA FACTORY', and 'BREED WHITE' all over her body. One of Korea's top idols had on hiatus and almost immediately covered herself in red ink glorifying white men, something that Yuna was unabashedly not ashamed of.

Especially when it made Y/n look at her like a piece of meat.

The tattoos were Y/n's idea. He was the one who'd corrupted her into this, the one how had bleached her and pushed her to just fall completely to pieces, showing her the tattoos American women got to signal their devotion to white men and then helping Yuna book appointments to get herself covered in them. She was unashamed of all of it, proud of the mess made of her body and how readily she wanted to give in. Not that Yuna minded covering herself head to toe in these appreciations, of course. She adored all of it.

"Aren't you happy that you've tamed me into a good bleachbunny for you?" asked Yuna, pushing Y/n down onto his bed and ripping at his clothes. "I'm such a dirty little slut for white cock now. I can never return to the stage looking like this now. Korea wants its idols to pretend that Korean boys are worth anything, but I'm just a white man's whore. I can't pretend. I won't pretend. Korean holes should only be filled with white cocks. Korean men shouldn't fuck Korean women; they should only watch superior men fuck them."

"God, you're perfect," Y/n groaned, groping Yuna's perky tits and her taut ass, adoring her body while he eyed all of her tattoos and all of the utterly demented lust behind all of this. There was a pleasure to these feelings that absolutely nothing was going to resist now. "I don't think you could say anything that could make me harder than what you're saying now."

Yuna licked her lips. 'There's one thing," she said, fishing his cock out and looming above it, her cunt dripping from all the oral worship she'd given him to get to this point. Her body shook in wild appreciation of these joys, the lust pulsing across her with unrelenting desire. Her smile widened. "Do you want to hear it?" she asked. 'I think it'll excite you. I think it's just what a hung, white stud here to fuck jailbait Korean girls wants to hear."

"Please," he groaned, not user what it was but trusting fully in Yuna's demented ideals, knowing that whatever she was about to confess to him would be unbelievable. He continued to knead her ass and her tits while awaiting the sweet surprise.

"I've gone off my birth control, daddy."

Yuna followed up the words with a wild slam down onto his cock, taking every inch of white dick into her tight, teenage hole, moaning in hopeless desire as she got to work at taking him in. Her moans were outrageous and desperate, driven by the absolute sloppiest frontiers of obsession now. Up and down she went, throwing herself into ravenous surrender to his cock. Up and down she moved, needing to give in to this, embracing the sloppy lust of everything

she craved. The Her body was ready, sloppy, pushing on for the most reckless of desires, keeping up pleasure and fever she needed only to let take her. It felt so good, so insistent, and she didn't care about holding back from it, didn't want anything to hold her from these lusts now.

"Fuck," groaned Y/n, lost to the immediate weight of her desires and what she wanted. He seized her hips tightly, guiding her up and down on his cock with unbelievable greed, the desire carrying him to need whatever he could get from this, her pussy squeezing around him. "Does that mean--"

"Yes, it means I want you to knock me up. I want to be a traditional Korean slutwife for you. Only you. I want to tend to your home, respect you, submit, and worship your foreign cock. I want to carry your white children and I want to fulfill my purpose. As a woman. As an Asian. As an Asian woman. I need to be yours." She was desperate, shameless, slamming harder onto his cock with merciless devotion. 'That's why you came here, wasn't it?"

"Not just t--"

"Not 'just'. You craved teenage Korean flesh so bad, and you didn't even wait a week before you pumped a load into me. You want this. Don't fight it. I want it, too. I'll give up on being an idol so I can come be yours instead. It's all I care about." Yuna let her hips work wildly up and down atop his lap. she was full of love and devotion, needing to give in to this and craving whatever she could find from it, throwing herself to want more and more of this, the pleasures carrying her to crave him with all she had. There was just no good way for anything to contain her now. Wildly riding his lap and carrying on with all she had to tend to him, Yuna knew that this was the way forward. The way to make him happy, and to change her life.

This was unbelievable. Y/n stared at the broken little cockslut he'd turned Yuna into. He'd never imagined she would so easily become so hard bleached. There was no doubt; she'd immediately converted over to it and let it become a lifestyle for her. It was either a testament to how amazing his cock was, or to how ready Yuna was for BWC to dominate her. maybe both. Maybe they were perfect for one another, destined to come together so his white cock and her race traitor pussy could find one another. It was a beautiful decadence and a chaos to keep giving in to, pleasures demanding only the hunger and the fever to keep pushing for more of.

Yuna was an unstoppable beast, a creature of lust and hunger and desire pushing her to want to give in. she didn't care about restraint, the irresistible chaos and the passion she wanted to keep her wanting more and more of. Pleasure and indulgence carried her to keep needing more, keep pushing in to these maddening lusts. There was a pleasure and a want to keep giving up to hotter. Every slam down onto his huge cock kept her needing more. "You should really consider putting a ring around my finger so that I never ever run away. You could even get me a collar instead, if you wanted to. A nice little diamond choker with a heart on it. Anything to prove I'm your bleached pet."

Every precision strike tease drove Y/n madder. His cock throbbed in hopeless, smoldering greed, keeping up a feverish desire and a hunger to keep wanting more and more of this all. There was no restraint behind these wicked lusts, keeping up the chaos and the passion to keep indulging in, embracing the hungers he wanted more and more to give up to. There felt

like absolutely nothing to give in to hotter, the wilder mess of these chaotic throbs, a lust tearing across him and keeping up wilder hunger now. The pleasure kept up its pace of pure hunger, wanton and sloppy and keeping up with this all. There was a pleasure to give in to hotter now. Her body felt unstoppable, driven by a sloppy momentum carrying her to just want to give up to all of it, needing to embrace these absolutely demented lusts now, desires and hungers she couldn't get enough of.

Moaning in hotter, hazier surrender, Yuna loved being such a sloppy bleachbunny for him. Her eyes rolled back, moans stuttering and shivering through these hopeless lusts. Keeping up the pace here imposed something upon Yuna that felt truly beautiful now. She didn't want it to stop, didn't want anything to hold her back from these devotions now. "White cock is the best. I need it. I need you. Knock me up and make me your wife already, what's keeping you?" She continued to greedily slam down onto him, unstoppable, imposing, demanding that he fuck her and fill her. There was no restraint for Yuna, only the dizzying surrender of satisfaction to keep chasing, and she was happy to keep up with it, to push him, to demand from him everything.

How could Y/n possibly resist? He slammed her down on his lap in maddening greed, desire carrying him to want more and more of these wicked pleasures, sloppy fever to give in hotter to. The unreasonable, overbearing ecstasy drove him to need this, every craving pushing him along until he just lost all control. Senseless, sloppy, hungry, he slammed up into her, pumping into Yuna with shot after shot of gooey cum that drove her over the line, keeping her needing this in fully, sloppier hunger keeping up the pleasure beyond reason. It was a beautiful mess of hunger, the heat to continue to give in to deeper. There was a pleasure behind these unreal and unreasonable devotions, the tremble of shuddering lust to just give up to utterly.

"Breed me, breed me! I want my white babies. The best thing a Korean woman can be is the mother to white children!" Her screams of sloppy obsession carried her to need this, craving the hunger and the fever of desire she didn't try to resist. Cravings consumed her utterly, and Yuna wanted to give up to all of it, delving in to the hotter of passions now, keeping her needy and sloppy and lost to the purity of hunger upon her. There was nothing she wanted to do but give up to all of this, the more and more imposing lusts she gave in to fully. The warm, gooey cum set her off, made her gasp and shudder through wilder passion, the pleasure she let carry her to the limit. It was an unbelievable hunger to need more of, giving in to this lustful heat without a shred of reason or dignity now. There was just pleasure to all of this, the burning fever to want more and more of. "Breed me again."

Yuna was happy to twist around and turn toward him, shaking her perky ass and showing off the big white heart on her ass cheek that read 'WHITE OWNED' with a crown. It was the kind of sight that could make Y/n’s thoughts go a bit crazy as he lurched forward. He meant to slide right back into her pussy, but as her wiggling, tatted-up ass advertised itself as white- owned, Y/n decided he wanted to go for something else, ramming his huge, white cock up her tight little backdoor without a word of warning.

Squeaking in wild shock at the pressure behind it, Yuna didn't exactly mind. "Of course, you want to fuck my ass, too," she moaned. "I don't mind, we'll get back to breeding again." She worked against him harder, happily tending to these sloppy devotions, her hips working to

meet his thrusts and to give in to the wildest of her desires. "Every part of me is made for you, and I'll be a good wife for my white man by letting your cock dominate all of my body. I'll learn how to cook American meals and give you them while I give you head, just like a white man deserves!" The sex was just a step in the process now, devotion carrying her along.

Yuna felt like she needed to just embrace these wicked and depraved ideas now, sloppy indulgence and obsession that carried Yuna to let herself go. She didn't care about these relentless passions now, the pleasure to keep her falling in to deeper, the hunger and the fever of giving up to all of this. The pleasure didn't leave a shred of sense behind now, the pleasures carrying on the sloppier fire and the chaos to want more and more of. Her hips shook and slammed back, feeding the needy heat pulsing across her body, tending to Yuna's every desire and hunger. she didn't want to slow down, needing to feel whatever she could get from this sloppy spectacle, greedy and lost and lit up with the fierce indulgence and desire that could turn a girl dumb. She didn't want to slow down in the face of this, needing only to let the pleasure carry her deeper, to feel this huge, white cock rearrange her guts.

"Can't help it," groaned Y/n, ramming up Yuna's ass with all he had, seeking the sloppy embrace of single-minded lust and the need carrying him to want to just go all out. It was too much pleasure to contain, the burning fever and ferocity that demanded he do everything he could to give in to this. It felt like everything he needed. "You could be famous, but you want to be my whore wife instead."

"Pleasing a white man brings me something so much better than being famous ever could," she whined. The pleasure enticed madder pleasure that she needed more and more of.

Unrestrained carried her to need to give up to all of these excitements, the passion to need more and more of. Unreasonable, unreal desire carried her to crave this now. Her tight ass got stretched out even harder than her cunt, and she knew she wanted only to give in to all of this, needing to surrender to these joys in full, keeping up the sloppiest of passions and joys now. The pleasure demanded that she succumb utterly, melting under the burning ecstasy to continue sinking in to.

The bed creaked and heaved a little bit under the force of wild doggy style anal, pounding madder into her. Drunk on these desires and sinking into the lust, Yuna didn't want anything to slow her down, carried on into the sloppier, deeper chaos to give in to, struggling through ideas of burning ecstasy that she continued to fall in to now. The pleasure was relentless, ferocious, burning across her and inviting her to just need to succumb to all of this. Yuna knew what she was about, and she knew what she wanted, embracing all of the hungers to carry on with hotter. There was no good way to handle these ideas, pleasure and chaos that carried her to want more and more of now.

"My whole body is bleached. I'm such a dirty slut. I'm such a naughty whore for white dick. I'm so happy that you're the white stud who broke me in, but I was destined to be a dirty whore for white men. It's what any Asian woman is made for. It's what we're born for!" She squealed out in hotter chaos, the surrender of delving in to these wicked ideas, pleasure to fall in to deeper, every craving igniting inside of her the purest of devotions and lusts now. It was what she needed most, and everything about these drunken joys drove her over the line now. "Do you like my tattoo? Once I'm done having my first baby, I'll let you choose what my other ass cheek gets." She twisted and giggled through this sloppy delirium, through a

continued need carrying her to want this all. She felt the unstoppable desire rip harder across her.

"I'm going to fucking cover you in them," he groaned. "Your presents will just be finding new ways to cram ink on your body to say you're a white-owned cockslut." Y/n didn't try to resist it, didn't pretend otherwise. Wilder greeds drove him to want to ruin her, to keep up pleasures that felt madder, sloppier, like a wild rush of burning excitement, the burning wickedness of needing to break her down completely. The utter depravity carried him to want to burn her up hotter, sending her into sloppier fires and lusts that continued to push her along. "I knew I'd take a girl in my class and turned her into a white worshiping whore, I just didn't think you'd be so easy."

"Any Korean girl would break if such an amazing, white cock broke her in. I know it. I'm just the lucky girl too pretty for you to resist. Now turn me into a Korean housewife who's loyal to her husband. We make the best wives. We're obedient. Respectful. Reverent. My white god will never have anything but pure love from me."

All of Yuna's babbling and whining urged Y/n to just let himself go. He remained unable to care about restraint, without a choice in the hard, mad slam forward, pumping into her with relentless joy. He came up her ass, flooding her ass with a hot load of molten spunk, sending her into the thrashing, shrieking joy of an overdrive she fell in to hotter, loving every second of burning greed now. It was unbelievable fire, the ferocious joy that she was able to give in to in full. Yuna thrashed, ached, gave in to these hotter spectacles and a passion that she didn't care about holding back from. The irresistible fever carried her to crave this, and she just did not care about restraint.

The cock pulled out of her ass, and Yuna shuddered. 'SO big," she whined, dripping with his cum from both holes now. "I can get bred again now, right daddy?"

Yuna turned around to face Y/n, eager and sloppy and hopelessly committed to getting what she wanted now.

But Y/n’s cock was starting to soften. A white cock had the stamina to go all night, but it did need a few breaks. "Maybe after dinner," Y/n said, slumping back against the bed. "You did make me cum five times since school ended and it's... I don't know what time it is, but it's not that late."

No. No, that was not acceptance. Frowning and pouting, Yuna stared at the softening cock, slowly falling down. Not shrinking much, though. Her teacher was huge even soft. But she wouldn't let him be soft, and she had to throw herself into the hopeless joy of grabbing his cock and licking it all over. She didn't care about going ass to mouth. Nasty bleached sluts did whatever it took. "No," she whined, licking and kissing all over his cock, tending to him with the burning fever and the desire carrying her to want more and more of all this. The pleasure carried her to crave these joys now, satisfaction and lust driving her into the deep end of fever and ferocity.

"You're such a desperate little whore," he groaned. "Does having white babies fucked into you matter so much?'

Yuna didn't answer, staring up at him with tempestuous, pouty fury while continuing to slobber all over his cock. Of course it did! He knew it, too. He was just teasing, but his teasing was working. She continued to lick and kiss all over his cock, her sloppy reverence carrying him to give in to this, urging him to give her what she wanted.

Slowly but surely, he hardened up against the desire aching across him. Yuna didn't hold anything back, and the raw sexual delight of seeing this desperate little Korean teen slave over his cock drove him mad. How could he not get hard again? His cock rose to attention, every groan he let out one of pure delight at the sheer control he held now over her. "Such a good little slut. You want your babies?"

"Yes," she whined.

"You want to get bred white?" "Please."

"You want my white cock to colonize your little race traitor pussy and pump you full of white babies so that you can start your life as a bleached housewife the second you graduate?"

"It's the only thing I want!" she screamed.

Y/n threw her back down onto the bed and slammed upon her from above, his cock forcing its way with brutal insistence into Yuna's pussy, starting up on the wicked satisfaction that it took to absolutely ruin her. Powerful, feverish slams rattled her to her core, made Yuna shriek as he got back to pounding her cunt, fresh off of a little reminding and a little fluffing.

"Own me," she whined, her legs kicked up into the air for this mating press, letting his body come crashing down upon hers. So powerful, so harsh, so ready to make her melt under his touch. Yuna felt drunk beneath its daze, wanting to continued to let these passions urge her deeper, unable to resist how good it felt to just let go. Everything about these sloppy needs encouraged her to want to collapse, and she didn't care about anything but white cock as he took her. "I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours!"

"That's right. You're mine, and you're never going to stop being my little bleachslut now. Ricebunny whore. Jailbait cocksucker. I'm going to marry you the second I'm no longer your student."

The words made Yuna shriek with wild joy, the passion madder and sloppier, carrying her to want to give in to this now. She was powerless against these devotions, passionate hunger to keep giving up to, continuing to surrender herself to this and wanting to give in to these pleasures now, the deeper ferocity that she was ready to give in to deeper now. There was no restraint behind these ideas, hunger and sloppy desire she wanted more and more of now.

There felt like no good way to handle these frustrations, chaotic fire and desire too ferocious to be able to handle. She needed this, craving his touch and wanting to give ever deeper in to the idea of losing control.

Her legs pressed tighter against his sides, drunken whines continuing to ring out in brighter desire now. Yuna felt powerless, the hunger sloppier, wilder, carrying her to need more and

more of this. There was only devotion and desire to this mess, and she was ready for this. All of this. She needed to give in, and she needed to surrender herself to these maddening lusts, carried into pleasure and want she didn't know how to resist. It was a relentless passion to carry on with, giving up to these lusts to give in to deeper now.

This was an addiction. Unable to contain herself and knowing that she was a sloppy wreck giving up hotter by the second, Yuna simply couldn't contain herself, couldn't care. She gave in to these desperate lusts, ecstasies ripping across her madder and wilder now. Drunk on these lusts and ready to give up fully to this mess, Yuna fell gleefully to pieces, lost to this hunger and lost to the sloppiness of ecstasy that tore her utterly to pieces now. "I need to get bred,” she whined. "Please. Please. Babies. Let me brag. I'll get it tattooed on me. All over. Breed me white and I'll cover myself proudly in it. It's all I want." She was a dizzy wreck, thrashing under the lust and the heat of needing to simply give in to all of this, the pleasures she wanted to break under fully.

Unrestrained greed carried Yuna to want to just fall to pieces, succumbing to pleasure desperately demanding that she break down in full. There was no good way to handle these passions, and it became a pleasure she just couldn't resist. The pleasure was unreal, a sloppier fire carrying her to give in deeper to this now. The pleasure carried her to want to fall utterly apart here. The pleasure was truly spectacular, and she didn't want it to hold her back. There wasn't anything to do but gave up to all of this, pleasures demanding that she fall apart in full. It was beautiful, desperate, reckless, and she just gave up to all of it now. She had to. Yuna was drunk on the bliss of betraying her race, and her pleas were hopelessly committed to the most demented of surrenders.

"Fuck," groaned Y/n, who struggled to hold himself together long enough to actually get into this groove. The pleasure was relentless and feverish, sloppier pleasures he knew he needed to give up to deeper. The most ravenous of these lusts demanded more from him, keeping up pleasure and want that continued to give in deeper now. There was a pleasure that didn't feel sane, senseless and wicked. "You're unreal."

Yuna squealed hotter. "That's all I can get? One of the most famous idols in Korea is your bleached cumrag, and all you can call me is 'unreal'?"

"You're the perfect fucking woman!" he hollered, throwing his head back, cursing, thrashing, giving himself up to this hotter. The burn of noisy hunger and fever drove him over the edge, all sense melting away in the throes of these pleasures. He came hard, pumping her full of cum and letting loose the sloppiest of his desires now. Relentless, hungry, thrashing wildly about, he let loose the hungers that drove him mad. It was pleasure as desperate and as forceful as he could have handled now. The sloppier and hotter chaos continued its demanding hungers now.

The words sent Yuna shrieking into another orgasm, sloppy and noisy under the wild satisfaction of just needing to give in to this. It was everything to her now, the pleasure to carry in to hotter. The ever-sloppier chaos drove her mad with hunger, and she just had to accept the sloppy desire and ecstasy of wanting all of these wicked passions now. Her cunt squeezed down around his cock, and her screams of desperate drunken fever carried her to the limit. "Daddy daddy daddy daddy bleach me!" She was lost her mind with joy; this was

the day she had been waiting too long for, and she wanted to give up to these wicked desires, a pleasure she wanted to succumb to utterly, and she didn't pretend she was even remotely capable of reason now.

As she came around his cock and screamed for this, Y/n happily gave in to the morally dubious ecstasy of these pleasures too, giving up to all of this and embracing the utter ecstasy that kept hitting him hard. His cock erupted with wild joy, needing to fill her up, throwing all sense away and allowing senseless joy to be become everything now to him. The pleasure wasn't real, wasn't sensible, and all of these ideas became their undoing. He held her down to the mattress and pumped her full to the brim with cum, sending her into the collapse of all sense under the sheer satisfaction of what he needed most now. This was his time, the beautifully deranged passion he wanted more of, and he just would not hold himself back from all of it.

"Groaning, aching, shivering atop her, Y/n groaned, "I’m going to fuck you all night. Pussy only, to make sure it takes. But dinner." He pulled out of her. "First, we get some dinner."

Yuna nodded happily. "I'll make you something," she cooed, ready to get good practice at being the wife that he deserved.

#kpop smut #yuna smut #itzy smut #yuna #yuna x reader #gg smut #smut #male reader

933 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 3 months

Text

Jungkook

Green | Part 2

"I don't jump around like that!"

Tags/Warnings: Bunny hybrid! Single dad!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, major fluff, crayons and frogs

Length: 2.5k Words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Is it bad timing?” You ask over the phone, whine Jungkook can be heard fighting a fierce battle against his little toddler, who’s clearly currently winning.

“No- Minji-“ he starts, before he addresses you. “Not- not No towards you, you never call during a bad time, I promise, I always want to talk to yo- Minji come on now!” He sighs, little girl having escaped his lap again- refusing to bend to her father’s only wish. “I promise I want to talk to you. Minji is just..”

“Having one of those days?” You giggle, and he smiles to himself.

“I guess so.” He admits. “She wants to go out and play, but I can’t get her into her outdoor clothes.” He sighs, before he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you called because you wanted to chat and all I do is complain-“

“no, no no its fine, really.” You dismiss, truly not offended at all. “I uh.. I’ll let you battle your daughter for now. You can.. uhm, we can.. I don’t know. Talk later maybe.” You offer, and he looks at the phone a bit upset.

“I..” Well, there’s nothing there to apologize for. He’s not sorry he’s in his situation, neither is he sorry who he is or what his daughter is- it’s just an unfortunate situation you’re both in. “..yeah. let’s talk later.” He agrees, and you quietly say your goodbyes, making his heart hurt quite a bit.

Just because he’s not sorry, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty.

Minji seems to notice his shift in emotions quite quickly, quietly reaching for her outdoor pants again that he’s been trying to put on her these past twenty minutes or so- now obediently trying to put them on herself, though she does reach for his hands to get him to help her quite quickly. And even while dressing her, jungkook can’t help but think.

Will you ever be able to accompany him and his daughter out like that? Push the swing she sits on, hold her hand when he’s got his full? Maybe.

Maybe not.

All he knows is that once he’s at the playground, sitting on the bench alone again to watch the little toddler play in the sand with another prey hybrid kid, he feels as if he could be the one to throw a tantrum any second now.

Crying out, begging for the world to just let him have you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Minji is happily walking through the mall with her dad, holding his hand tightly as to not get lost, when suddenly, as Jungkook has stopped to look at an interesting discounted product in the shelf, he can feel her tug a little as she seems interested in something as well now. “Hm?” Jungkook wonders without taking his eyes off the value pack of baby wipes, before he looks down at his daughter, who’s staring somewhere, one hand prodding at her mouth absentmindedly. “What’re you looking at, hm?” He wonders, looking into the direction she does, when he spots it.

Or rather, you.

You’re wearing simple clothes, clearly not out to impress anyone but just to get what you need, but he can’t deny that you’re still appealing like this, even though you’re not even wearing makeup from what he can see. Your fluffy tail is slightly swaying from side to side as you put something into your shopping cart, unaware of being watched.

Jungkook is curious. It seems like you must’ve made an impression on his daughter- because she appears to recognize you, most likely by your striking features. And while she’s still clinging to him, her interest in you is obvious.

As if you can feel eyes on you, you turn a little to lock eyes with Jungkook- who waves a little, before urging Minji to do the same- but at the obvious sign of being spotted, she instead hides behind his legs, as if that would protect her from the danger of you- even though there is nothing to fear. You wave back, and Jungkook can see that you’re masking your disappointment over the little girl still clearly feeling some form of natural fear.

“Come, let’s go say hi.” Jungkook tells his daughter, who looks visibly troubled by that proposal, torn between natural fearful instincts, and her inner curiosity. Suddenly however, it seems that her decision has been made- as she makes a sound of protest, slipping around his legs to attempt to walk off, if it wasn’t for Jungkook grabbing the back of her wintercoat in the last second. But she’s eager, whining in complaint- and only now does he realize, you’ve walked off, probably thinking that would be for the best.

But not for Minji.

Remembering the dinner, Jungkook has an idea on how to maybe solve this clearly frustrating issue for his daughter- picking her up easily, to walk after you as you’re now standing in front of a large collection of different tubs of ice cream. “One might think you’re the prey trying to escape.” Jungkook jokes, and the second you look at him, clearly worried, he feels his heart jump.

Because his plan is working.

The fact that Minji is now in close contact with her father gives her an intense boost of confidence- hands reaching out for you now, curious eyes fixated on your actual face now, no longer avoiding eye contact. It makes you both a bit intimidated but also hopeful that maybe, this is a sign that with a bit more work at familiarizing yourself with her, there might be a chance.

“Hello.” You greet, careful not to move too quickly, though the little hybrid girl is clearly not that jumpy anymore, giggling happily when she notices your tail wag behind you, hitting the metal shopping cart- pointing to it to show her father, who’s smiling just as much about it. “I didn’t mean to run off- just.. Thought, I don’t know.” You stumble over your words a little, but Jungkook reassures you.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t wanna.. Stall your shopping trip either. Just.. We both wanted to just.. See you, I guess.” He says, while his daughter becomes a bit fidgety, wanting to get down again. “Minji baby if I put you down you gotta stay close though.” He gently scolds her, simply receiving a sound of protest.

You’ve noticed this as well- the fact that she pretty much doesn’t talk, whenever she’s aware that people are watching. She only ever babbles with her father, but that’s to be expected. Most prey hybrids are very withdrawn and shy, so its already surprising she appears to be very much okay with you so close already. And the second he puts her down, she’s already running off-

Though not very far, as she instead happily holds onto your tail, even laughing when you look at her with eyes wide open, completely surprised.

“I’m so sorry-” Jungkook starts, but you shake your head, smiling, and waving him off.

“No, no-” You reassure. “I’m.. Happy.” You nod, carefully looking at Minji who’s running her hands through the fur of your tail, shyly grinning up at you before she lifts your tail to hide herself, making both you and Jungkook laugh.

Maybe she’s just not that scared of predators?

But that suspicion is instantly debunked as two wolf hybrids casually walk past you both to get to pay for their things, making the little bunny hybrid instantly jump back to her father, clinging to the fabric of his pants.

So why is she alright with you?

“Would you.. Like to come over sometime?” You ask Jungkook, fidgeting with your hands a little nervously. “I.. You know. Just for some.. Casual chatting. Maybe cake? I can bake pretty well.” You rant, and Jungkook looks at Minji.

“You wanna visit Dad’s friend with him?” He asks her, and she looks at you, thinking- before she nods, reaching for something in Jungkook’s shopping basket, before she drops it in your cart- and on closer inspection, it’s a small pack of frog-themed hairclips. “Oh? You don’t want them anymore?” He wonders, but his daughter shakes her head.

“..for me?” You ask, and she nods, smiling before she runs behind her father again, curiously poking her head around his body as if to play hide and seek with you. “Well.. Not what I’d usually go for, but they might look nice. What do you think?” You ask Jungkook, who’s caught off guard for a second, having to look away a bit bashful, nodding.

“Y-yeah! I mean, anything would suit you, since you’re really pretty..” He rants, nervously licking his lips before his tongue plays with the piercings of his bottom lip, unsure how to act. This isn’t exactly what he expected- but it’s also a surprising turn of events that makes him happy.

“..thank you..” You respond, before you wave at the little girl, moving to do the same towards her father-

But Jungkook instead hugs you goodbye, unable to help himself in that moment.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━

When you open the door to your apartment, Minji is very wary.

It’s to be expected- it's not just a new environment, but it also smells entirely of you- a predator hybrid, her natural enemy of sorts, at least in instinct. So it doesn’t shock him, and neither you, that she’s clinging to her father, stuffed animal in her arm while the other one clings to her father’s pantleg. But one look at you does seem to make her perk up- ears suddenly standing tall and turned towards you, shy smile on her lips while she grins into her dark green frog-plushy. “Hey. We’re a bit late-” Jungkook apologizes, but you just wave him off, letting them both inside with a smile.

“No bother, you texted me after all, so I was prepared.” You tell him, inviting them both into your living space that’s fairly small, but clearly yours. It’s vibrant, a bit chaotic, but overall a home, and not just a place you exist in. The little girl looks around already, most likely having her attention caught by all the decoration, pictures on the walls and colorful interior design you have. Jungkook also notices two awards hung up on the wall near the TV in the living room- and he’s reminded of your profession again, giving him an idea on how to coax his little girl out of her shell again.

“Hey, do you wanna know something cool?” Jungkook asks, squatting down in front of his daughter who looks at him, ears pointing towards him in curiosity. “Dad’s friend can draw really well. Maybe if you ask her nicely, she can show you?” He proposes, and at that, Minji looks over at you, who seems caught off guard- but you instantly walk to open a small room- an office that looks pretty chaotic, obviously the place where you work.

The shelves are full of books of all sizes and colors, but what seems to catch Minji’s attention the most, is a familiar bookcover- the same she has had for quite a while now, green frog family something she remembers very easily.

“Wait- you’re the author?” Jungkook wonders, holding one of the multiple little picture-books in his hands, the specific one Minji is looking at a new one she’s not seen before.

You nod. “I didn’t know she read that one.” You giggle. “This uh.. It's the new one that’ll be published next month. You can look at it if you like.” you tell her, well aware that she most likely can’t read it yet, but probably enjoys looking at the pictures anyways.

“Well, she doesn’t read, really..” jungkook chuckles, watching his daughter carefully stare you down while she picks up the book, something brewing in her brain with the way her ears move so distinctively. “she mostly looks at the pictures, and makes up her own story.” He explains.

“it trains her creativity.” You tell him, as you walk out the room with her hot on your heels, eyes still burning Luke little lasers on the back of your head. “which is important, you know? Many parents.. just leave their kids with the TV or something and call it a day.” You sigh, closing the door behind you before you watch Minji jump on your couch, eager to look at the little book.

“minji, don’t jump like that!” Jungkook scolds, and you can’t help but smile to yourself at the almost challenging glimmer in his daughter’s eyes, as if she’s quietly sending a message- one that’s so obvious, even you receive the signal clear as day.

“But Dad does it!” she suddenly chirps at you. “All’the time!” she mumbles into the backrest of the couch. Jungkook gasps at both the sheer audacity of his daughter airing out his bad habits like this- and the fact that she actually spoke directly towards you.

“Well, I’d love for you both to feel right at home.” You say gently. “So I don’t mind if you jump a little, bunny.” You tell her- and at the nickname she grows shy, hiding away to instead bury her head into her book.

Jungkook smiles at the interaction, and follows you into your kitchen to make some tea, enjoying the moment with you to its fullest. “…I really don’t jump around like that, by the way.” He suddenly tells you with such a serious tone that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“serious? Maybe, but not honest!” You giggle, making him smile as well, unable to really do anything else but. This whole situation feels like a dream really, with you at his side and his daughter warming up to you. He’s sure there will be hurdles, it won’t be a smooth ride just because right now things are looking up- but he also has found a new unique feeling.

A feeling that this might actually work.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Back home, Jungkook has busied his daughter with her coloring book and favorite crayons, while he himself prepares some dinner in the kitchen. And all is calm and well, until his daughter calls out to him from her room, a whine in her tone signaling that she needs his help urgently.

“What’s up?” He wonders towards her, before she holds out two crayons she’s never used- one red, and one orange. “What’s with them?” He asks, while she pouts to herself, thinking seriously about something.

“which is dad’s friend?” she asks, and Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t know? Maybe both of them, hm?” He wonders, and she nods- suddenly determined as she runs back to her coloring book, occupying herself again while he smiles and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the pan on the stove.

It’s only later, when he cleans up the table and finishes putting away the dishes, that she stands in front of him again, this time with a neatly ripped out page of her coloring book. “Wanna put that on the fridge?” He asks, and his daughter nods.

The picture showing three frogs, two green and one thats colored in orange and red.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic

471 notes · View notes