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teatoptony · 7 months

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For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months

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21 from kinktober list with alucard 👀 I can see him and fem reader trying to seduce trevor and sypha into their bed… perhaps greta can join too 😏

A/N: This was such a daunting request I didn't know if I'd be able to do it or not tbh but IT'S HERE!!! This is a little bit of a monster but I hope you like it, I put blood sweat and tears into this req for you MWUAH

Threesome or Moresome x Alucard, Trevor, Sypha

“Honey, just think about it.”

“This is embarrassing, absolutely not.”

“Adrian, you don’t think I didn’t see how you used to look at them? Before really being with me?”

That stopped him in his tracks.

Alucard thought he was so good and hiding his face, his glances, his pout whenever he saw how the two doted on each other. But he wore his heart on his sleeve, and you could see right through him.

“I love you, dearly, and I know you love me.” You sighed into his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But if you want this, I’ll indulge. I’ll even bring it up first, if you’d like.�� You reassured, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough for me, darling..” You held his chin, moving it to make him look up at you, eyes full of love and affection. “I know I’m enough for you, my love. But let yourself enjoy this. If they say no, well that’s that. But what if they say yes?”

Alucard groaned, blush covering his face.

“Fine. We’ll ask.”

“You know, you really outdo yourself with dinner every time, really, but the wine is still outmatched.” Sypha slaps a hand on Trevor’s chest, looking over as if to say ‘what?’ while you cackled a laugh, and Alucard sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. He can’t believe he’s actually fantasized about this. “Dinner is delicious as usual.” Sypha interjected, the four of you now lounging in the grand living room. The castle was quite gorgeous, after all this time of you and Alucard both working at it to become a home once again. They still didn’t know how you of all people stuck around with him. (Well, Sypha understood, mostly Trevor being a dick.) You fought valiantly by their side, holding your own as a witch in their midsts. They were sure you’d go on your own to continue fighting the masses. Instead, you stayed--and built a life with Alucard. Hell, you even called him Adrian. (It warmed his heart that his name would still be remembered.)

“Thank you, Sypha, as for the wine, you should really be thanking Adrian, Belmont. He knows how to source a good red.” You winked over at him, seeing his pale skin turn ablaze with crimson. “Ah, right, thank you Adrian.” You knew Trevor was simply teasing, but it gave you a glimpse of hope when the brunette winked at your lover the same way you did. His stomach flipped, palms sweating as he steeled himself for you to bring up probably the most embarrassing request he could imagine.

Even more embarrassing when he was caught with makeshift dolls of the couple in his kitchen.

“Actually, Trevor, Sypha. We have...a proposal. For the two of you.” the Speaker’s interest piqued, cocking a brow. You looked over to Alucard, taking his hand in yours and rubbing soothing circles into his palm. “Alright? Out with it already.” Belmont was impatient as always. You glanced at him once more, making sure he was still okay with the interest. And when you saw him nod, you continued.

“We’d like to sleep with you, both.”

You could hear a pin fall with how the silence cut through the air of the castle. You looked perfectly calm, smiling at the couple across from you that couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. In reality you were scared to death. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but Alucard had whispered his desires to you in the comfort of your bed, after taking you over and over again one night. How were you ever supposed to say no to him? Besides, it’s not like you hadn’t thought of it yourself after he brought it up.

Sypha was the first to break the silence, tapping on Trevor’s jaw to have him close his fucking mouth. “Ah--” She cleared her throat, before starting again. “That was ah, quite the joke you two!” She nervously laughed, hoping you’d eventually crack your facade. You didn’t. “Not a joke Sypha, right Adrian?” You looked over at your lover, whose face was still flushed. “We’ve ah....discussed, inviting you to our bed before, if you were comfortable.” Trevor snorted a laugh. “Always knew you wanted me--the muscles usually do it.” He flexed an arm, now it was your turn to slap at him, before laying your hand a bit too close to his crotch, released Alucard’s hand and mirroring on Sypha’s lap. “You can take your time to think about it, you can say no right now...but the offer is there.” The two looked at each other, hearts racing as they took you up on your offer.

The four of you sat on your shared bed, large enough to comfortably fit you all. The two were hesitant, you can tell, which meant you would have to lead the way until everyone was comfortable. You gently held onto Sypha’s hand, pulling her towards you close enough to caress her face with your other hand. “Tell me to stop if you ever feel uncomfortable..” You whispered, watching her glance down at your lips with parted mouth, nodding once before meeting you in a soft kiss. You heard a faint gasp, not sure which male it’s coming from. You ignore it either way, angling her face towards you to deepen the kiss, hand on her face moving to run your fingers through her hair, gripping the back of her head. “Fuck.” Trevor’s deep voice rumbled through you, feeling his breath tickle at your neck. He kissed your skin, hands slowly exploring your body from behind as you continued with Sypha, biting at her lip asking for permission to go further. The speaker opened her mouth, letting you explore her mouth with your tongue, licking at her teeth and tongue. She gasped when feeling a new presence behind her, Alucard’s hands grasping at her chest through her clothes, fangs scraping at her neck. You detached yourself from her to take in the sight before you: Alucard kissing and suckling bites into Sypha’s neck, her hand reaching back to grip at his blonde tresses, mouth hanging open and already panting.

It made you so wet looking at them. You kissed the other side of her neck while Trevor started groping you, hands moving up and down your body, even rubbing at your clothed pussy for a moment before moving back up. You moaned, looking up at Sypha and Alucard sharing a heated kiss, his hand covering her throat. You were pulled back. “I don’t know how I feel about him kissing my wife like that..” The Belmont mumbled, and with a snicker you turned to look at him, both hands running through his silky hair. “Then why don’t you kiss his wife like that?” You challenge, immediately being pressed closer to him with a moan. Your shared kiss with Trevor wasn’t as soft, not like a woman’s touch--it was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping at you and moving to take your clothes off as quickly as possible. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking back to see Alucard doing the same to Sypha. You shared a look with him, making sure you were both still on the same page. A hand shot out,gripping at your jaw and turning your head. “Look at me, beautiful. Wanna be in on the fun.” Fuck. You understood why your sweet and charming husband looked at Belmont with lust in his eyes. You palmed at his crotch, Trevor hissing into your mouth and bucking into your hand. “Take these off, Trevor..” You mumbled against his lips, feeling entirely too exposed in comparison to him. Throwing caution to the wind Trevor discarded his clothes quickly, latching himself back onto you. You trailed your kisses down his body, across his strong chest, chiseled abs, making sure to lick over all the scars that littered his body on the way down. You gave special treatment around his adonis belt, licking his happy trail along the way. “Fuck, Alucard you never said your wife was insatiable.” He joked, though his laughter came out shakier than he intended it to.

“Same could be said to you.” He mumbled against Sypha’s skin, who was writhing underneath him already. He was kissing and biting at her hips, trailing his tongue and fangs to the inside of her thighs, exposed cunt near his face. Sypha leaned up on her forearms, watching his every move with baited breath, letting out soft whimpers each time he bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on her thighs. She wanted to complain, wanted to beg him to stop teasing her the way she would have with Trevor--but when he peaked up through his long lashes and those beautiful hues looked at her, well, she couldn’t help but let him continue at an excruciatingly slow pace. One of his hands trailed up her body, groping and pinching at her tit and nipple, pulling the hard bud here and there in between. Sypha moaned, opening her legs up more for him and bucking up, in hopes he would move faster to where she wanted it. He clicked his tongue once, before licking a stripe up her pussy. “So impatient..” He whispered against her, other arm wrapping around underneath her thigh and pulling her flush against his face, lapping up her juices as she squirmed above him. “Oh, fuck.” Sypha fell against the bed, both hands tugging at Alucard’s hair as he moved to fuck her on his tongue. No matter how eloquent the man seemed, Alucard ate pussy like a man starved. And he had been wanting her for so long, lusting after the couple from the moment they met. He wouldn’t let her go dissatisfied.

Trevor couldn’t help but look at the sight before him: his friend going down on his wife that was writhing in pleasure underneath him. He wanted to feel a pang of jealousy, really he did, but he was so turned on it made his dick jump. He heard you giggle underneath him, licking from the tip of his cock down to his balls. A hand slowly pumped him as he bit back a moan, swallowing hard as you continued to tease and kiss at his dick. “They look good, don’t they?” You commented on the couple next to you, mouthing at the length before engulfing his cock into your mouth, sucking and spitting it. Trevor shuddered a breath, bucking his hips deeper into your mouth accidentally, letting out a small moan when he saw how good you took him in your mouth. Trevor was a bit girthier than Alucard, but what he lacked in thickness he made up for in length. You were fortunately very used to being face fucked, taking Trevor’s length was easy for you, if only just a tad shorter. He pet your hair, grabbing at the roots and letting you set a pace, leaning over and smacking your ass for good measure. You moaned around him, stuttering and gagging around him from the sudden slap.

You felt a delicate hand slip two fingers into your soaking cunt, causing you to moan again around the brunette. Behind you was Sypha, slowly fucking her fingers into your wet heat. Her head was spinning with how good Alucard was eating her, but having your pussy right in her face was driving her mad. She wanted a taste, even if just from licking the juices off her fingers. Alucard noticed, releasing the grip he had on her just enough for her to reposition herself underneath you, grabbing at your hips and begging you to sit on her face. “Beautiful pussy..” you heard her whisper, bringing a heat to your face. Sypha was sloppy, still so new to eating cunt but her desire to make you feel good was so overwhelming she couldn’t help but keep licking at you. She was a quick learner, feeling your hole clench around her tongue whenever she licked up a certain way, your hips pressing down harder into her face when she sucked your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you rutted against her face, feeling Trevor take control of her head and fucking into your throat.

Alucard brought Sypha up to her first orgasm, pushing two fingers into her heat and curling up--hitting that squishy spot that had her creaming on his face. She moaned into your pussy, causing you to hump at her face using her to get to your high. It wasn’t long until you were there, sucking harsh on your nub when you came. “You girls look so good when you cum.” Trevor laughed breathlessly, pulling you off his cock to let you catch your breath. Alucard chuckled, removing the last of his clothes and kneeling. “I’d have to agree with you Belmont, they’re gorgeous aren’t they.” The compliments had you preening, turning around stradling Spyha, rubbing your body on hers as you tasted yourself on her tongue, before looking up at your husband with a salacious smile. “I want a taste~” You cooed, pulling him down for a kiss and licking into his mouth with a moan. “Taste so good on his tongue, Sypha.” Her body shuddered, a light blush dusting her skin. Alucard looked over at Trevor, slowly pumping his cock as he eyed both yours and Sypha’s pussy on display for him. “Do you want a taste, Belmont?” Alucard was treading lightly, still unsure if Trevor would reciprocate. “Fuck, come here you stupid vampire.” Without a second thought, Trevor grabbed the back of Alucard’s neck and smashed his lips against him, biting and licking his lips, tongues circling each other in a fight to dominate the other. Alucard whimpered, letting Trevor take the lead as he licked into his mouth, the blonde’s nails clawing down Trevor’s chest and grabbing a hold of his hard cock. The vampire hunter hissed, pulling back to look at the way Alucard stroked him, huffing as Alucard traveled south to suck him off. Trevor moaned, head being thrown back as the other male sucked him off with enthusiasm. Alucard bobbed his head, tongue sticking out from his mouth and slurped the spit that was dribbling from his mouth.

You moved to get underneath Alucard, enough to be able to take his cock into your mouth. He was incredibly hard, leaking precum over the sheets as he continued to ignore his own pleasure for everyone elses’. So selfless. You lapped up the stickiness from the head, and trailing down to his balls, taking one into your mouth and laving your tongue over it, while your hand jerked at his enlarged cock. He stuttered on Trevor’s cock, causing him to release him with a pop and take hold with his hand, flicking his wrist and keeping a pleasurable pressure on him. “Ah fuck, darling, so good for me.” He groaned, gripping the roots at the crown of your head, pulling you up to shove you down onto his cock. You gagged, regaining your composure as you continued to choke around him, nosing his pubes with each thrust he gave you. Alucard continued giving Trevor attention, wrapping his pretty lips against his dick again, nails clawing at his thighs with each thrust Trevor decided to meet with his bobbing.

Sypha moved up to kiss Trevor, tongue licking at his mouth, gripping his broad shoulders as they made out. He dipped two fingers into her wet cunt, pistoning them in and out of her sloppy pussy. “Fuck, they’re better than I thought they’d be.” Trevor all but moaned into her mouth, and she nodded in agreement, fucking herself down on his thick fingers. Trevor pulled Alucard off his cock, the dhampir’s eyes glassing over with lust, pulling him up for a quick kiss before whispering against him: “I want to fuck your wife.”

You and Sypha moved in tandem, face down ass up towards Trevor, practically presenting your dripping cunts to him while the two of you moved to lick and suck Alucard’s cock and balls. It was nearly overwhelming ,feeling the love of his life share his dick with his friend, exchanging kisses and spit with each other. He almost forgot why he was in this position in the first place before hearing you squeal. Trevor pushed into your tight heat, pussy greedily sucking him in with each thrust. “Fuck! Pussy so good.” He growled, grabbing a hold of your hips and slamming himself into you. Alucard saw your eyes roll to the back of your head, slowly becoming cockdrunk off Trevor’s dick. It made his dick twitch in Sypha’s mouth, a glob of precum oozing out onto her tongue. Your mouth lolled open, tongue hanging as you drooled onto the sheets below you. You couldn’t form any words, just babbling away at how good Trevor was making you feel. Trevor pulled out, only to shove himself into Sypha turning her to mush the same way. You’d both give Alucard head, turning messy and sloppy each time Trevor would take turns with the two of you. Then Trevor surprised the dhampir the most.

“You want a turn, pretty boy?”

“Trevor you fuck him so good.” You gasped, rubbing your pussy along Sypha’s, fingers in her mouth making her a mess underneath you. On the side of you was Alucard already crying at the feeling of his tight hole being pummeled by the Belmont. He was so full, cock feeling so much better than he could have ever imagined. Alucard reached for you, grabbing at your free hand. You held his hand, looking over to your husband with your eyes hazy, cunt sopping wet against the speaker’s. “Look at you honey, so fucking handsome.” You heard him moan, tip wet with his arousal. Sypha’s muffled voice was warped around your fingers, letting up enough to let her speak. “Wanna ride him, please.” Her eyes were pleading, and who were you to deny her?

She scrambled from below you, hovering over his cock and lining herself up, Trevor slowing down enough to let her slowly fill herself up with Alucard’s cock. She clawed at his chest, feeling so full and having him so deep was making her pant. Trevor sped up once again, wrapping a hand around Sypha to tease and grope her tits. He kissed at her back and shoulders, biting every now and again with pleasure. Alucard was dizzy, pleasure completely overwhelming him, but he knew something was still missing-you were still missing. With hazy eyes he looked at you, not even giving you a moment before he pulled you onto his face and ate you like a man starved. You cried out, feeling his tongue to deep curling into your cunt as you rode him. Each moan he let out vibrated against your pussy, pushing you closer to the edge. Sypha was just about as far along as you were, bouncing on Alucard’s dick with fervor. You reached down to rub at her swollen clit, occasionally pinching the bundle of nerves. She cried out, trembling and clenching on Alucard, riding her orgasm on his cock until she tapped: climbing off him to catch her breath. Alucard was losing his mind, so close to cumming. You could feel his desperation in the way he ate you out. Leaning down you took his cock into your mouth, taste Sypha’s cum on his length. Alucard held out as long as he could, waiting to feel you clench around his tongue and tasting your cum, gushing out over his tongue and face, before moaning and bucking into your tongue releasing his sticky fluids into your mouth and deep down your throat. Trevor took all the sights in, dick twitching inside Alucard before he pulled out, pulling Sypha down and jerking onto her tongue. “Share with our pretty boy, beautiful.” He panted, having Sypha crawling up to Alucard’s mouth and sharing Trevor’s cum with him after you moved away.

The four of you collapsed onto the large bed, nothing but pants and huffs heard in the air, thick with the scent of sex. “So...this is what you two freaks get up to?” Trevor teased, feeling a pillow lunged at him muffling his face.

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk, Belmont.”

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vampireknitting · 2 years

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#it’s gonna be a long day #i want more sleep #but noooo of course not why would it be easy #only had a panic attack last night which totally ruined my sleep #brain won’t stop being stupid and annoying #i’m big sad right now #dreamed about the hit and run I witnessed as a child. it was just a dog but we liked the dog and petted it before it walked across the st #we big my younger sisters and I #but as the oldest it’s one of those things I remember and they just mostly don’t #the sound of the jeep hitting that big dog will haunt me forever #same as the noise the car made when it slammed into the gravel ditch when I went out with an ex bestie #cars terrify me tbh and I can’t sit in the drivers seat without panicking #the car hitting the ditch was what made the fibromyalgia take over my life too #not doing well today unfortunately

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 2 months

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Sick

Joel Miller x Reader Warnings: Reader is sick, pill taking, food mention (brief), trouble sleeping. A/N: I just wrote this because I'm currently sick AF and would like Joel Miller to look after me pls n thank. It's mostly just fluff tbh. No use of Y/N, no race or gender coding, reader is pretty much a blank slate. 700~ Words | [AO3]

You groan as you stir awake for the hundredth time tonight, pain arcing behind your eyelids as you struggle to rouse yourself. You’re freezing cold despite the warm body pressed to your back. You desperately pull the covers around you as you try and fight the chill that wracks through your body.

“Hey?” Joel whispers in your ear as you feel him pull you to him, his thin scruff scraping along the plane of your shoulder, “You ok darlin’?”

You curse yourself inwardly at the soft voice in your ear. The thickness in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through you as you wrap your arms around his strong forearm as it holds you firm against him.

“No,” you whimper feebly as you hear the cloying distortion to your voice, even with just one syllable it’s obvious you’re sick. You’d been feeling under the weather all week, but it seems it’s finally caught up to you. On a Saturday no less.

“Shh,” Joel hushes you softly as he wriggles his other arm free, you feel his strong palm press against your forehead from behind as he shifts up on the pillows behind you, “Shit, you’re burning up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you grumble as you let out a hacking cough as your chest burns.

“Stay here,” he says softly as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

You whine as he slides out of bed before tucking the covers around you tightly. You grunt helplessly as he shuts the door behind him, missing his body heat already as you burrow down into the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut and your brow furrows at the pain in your skull, amplified only by the way your rattling cough seems to jostle your head.

It could have been minutes, or hours, but when Joel comes back you smile feebly up at him from the cocoon you have crafted around you. He’s a vision of tan skin and grey boxer briefs as he carries in a tray with water, cold medicine, and a few bags of your favourite snacks.

“Poor baby,” Joel coos softly as he sets down the tray on the nightstand, “Can you sit up for me?”

“Sure,” you say meekly as you shuffle yourself up into a seating position, “Thank you.”

“Don’t need to thank me,” he says as he smiles fondly at you, “But you do need to take your medicine,” he frowns playfully at you as he wags a finger in your direction. Your heart swells as you look up into his deep brown eyes as he looks you over. Worry forms in the crow’s feet around his eyes and the semi-permanent crease in his brow. Your stomach flutters and you can’t help but smile.

“Ah shit,” you groan as you realise what day it is, “The party at Maria and Tommy’s.”

“Don’t fret, I’ve already called Tommy,” Joel says as he hands you a couple of cold and flu tablets and a glass of water, “Poor bastard wasn’t even awake yet, I forgot to check the time before I called.”

Once you’ve got a secure hold on the medication and water Joel sits on the edge of the bed before dropping a broad hand to your knee. He rubs soothingly up your thigh as he watches you intently. You sigh peacefully at the ministrations of his hand as you gulp down the water and tablets.

“What time is it?” You ask as your head spins, you relax immediately as you feel Joel slide into bed beside you, sitting up as he pulls you back against his chest. You lay there, head lolled back on his shoulder as you close your eyes.

“Early,” he hums as he gently lays down, pulling you with him, “But don’t worry about that now, get some rest, I’m right here.”

“Ok,” you sigh as another cough rocks your body, prompting Joel to hold you tight against his chest.

“Love you darlin’, get some sleep.”

“Love you too,” you mutter as the lure of unconsciousness becomes too hard to ignore.

You’re not sure if it’s the cold medicine, or the way that Joel nuzzles into the crook of your neck, but you finally feel a little relief as you let out a shuddering sigh before falling into a deep sleep.

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javier-penas-wifexx420 · 11 months

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You can be the Boss

pairing: Negan Smith x afab!fem!reader

summary: You and your little brother find an uneasy home at the savior compound. Things aren’t too bad, besides the fact that their ruthless leader has his sights set on you. After showing him some attitude, he decides to show you who’s boss.

word count: ~5.4K

warnings: mdni or I will tell ur mom. Swearing (mostly from Negan and my narration) Rough sex/smut, unprotected p in v wear condoms you whores, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, consensual forced submission. Mild dubcon (power imbalance). Age gap, reader is in her late 20s, Negan is in his 40s?? Tbh imagine it however you want but he’s older than her. No use of Y/N

CULTS ARE BAD

You were over Negan’s bullshit, to put it simply. You had been all on your own with just your little brother when the saviors had found you and let you become a part of their community. You remembered thinking, foolishly, that you were safe, things were going to get better. Only for things to get even more complicated and dangerous. Maybe if you were with a different group, being led by a different man.

You remembered the day you met him too. You had been brought to the compound, clutching your brother’s arm and refusing to let go. You had been led to a room with a bed and everything, instructed to take showers and asked if you wanted anything to eat. You remembered the water falling through your hair, the fresh smell of the soap. Something you had taken for granted before now considered a luxury in this post-apocalyptic world. In your naivety you’d allowed yourself to let your guard down. Until you met him.

You knew immediately not to trust him. The way he looked at you made you uneasy. You were used to men looking at you that way, being a young woman in a lawless world you had grown accustomed to predatory behavior from the men you encountered. You’d learned to harden yourself, keep your guard up always. You weren’t scared to hurt a man if he got too close to you.

This was different though, Negan was the leader of the saviors. You couldn’t just kick him in the balls and move on with it.

You were quickly put to work in the compound. It definitely wasn’t paradise, but at least you and your brother’s safety was ensured. Getting to sleep in an actual bed didn’t hurt either. The only problem was the man who ran everything.

At best he was an arrogant piece of shit, at worst he was a fucking monster. You made sure, and lectured the hell out of your brother, to stay out of his way.

He walked around the compound like it was his kingdom, swinging that damn bat around everywhere he went. You couldn’t help how alluring he was, despite his brutality. You couldn’t help being drawn in by his sauntering walk and deep voice, especially when he talked to you. It made you sick that there was a part of you that wanted him so bad, even after you’d witnessed the evil things he did.

You tried to stay out of his way, but he made it difficult, always going out of his way to talk to you. Not only were you scared of him, you were scared of how he made you feel. So you pushed those feelings way down and kept your head down, doing your job and taking care of your brother. It had worked for the most part, but eventually you couldn’t avoid him anymore.

One fateful day, Laura had been sick and she had asked you to fill in for her. You knew she worked a lot closer with Negan than you did, but you really liked Laura and didn’t want to let her down. You figured it’d be fine, just do the job and get out, right?

The whole time, you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head when you worked. You had never worked this closely with him before. The air around him felt electrically charged and you tried to ignore how he was making you feel.

The whole time he made little comments towards you, trying to be endearing in his own twisted way. You tried to walk the line that you always did between humoring him and still acting uninterested. However, it was getting harder and harder the more he drew you in.

When the job was finally done, he dismissed everyone. As you were walking away though, he called you back to him. You had turned around, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“C’mere” He beckoned you over with his leather gloved hand. You cautiously walked up to him, doing your best to ignore how your heartbeat quickened.

“Who are you?” He asked, that familiar wolfish smile on his lips. Suddenly, irritation flooded through you. You were sick of his smugness, he was already in control of everything, controlled everything all of you did. He even made you guys kneel for him. It wasn’t fair that in exchange for basic safety you had to kiss his ass and stroke his ego. Your identity was all you had left, and he wanted to take that away from you now too. You knew it was stupid but there was this stubborn part of you that just refused to bend.

“Well?” He asked, starting to get impatient, “I asked you a fucking question.”

You sighed and tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“Oh I’m sorry, is there a problem?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He was calm now, but the smallest things could set him off.

“No!” You said quickly, “Its just- come on Negan, you already know I’m loyal to you.”

His expression darkened and he stepped closer to you.

“So who are you?” He asked evenly, his tone warning you.

Your heart started to beat even faster as he got closer to you. There was some sort of tension between you two, you knew that for sure. Even though you didn’t work closely with him in the saviors community, he made sure to know who you were. He made excuses to be around you, to touch you. You weren’t stupid, you could see the way he looked at you.

To make things worse, that fucked up part of you really wanted him too. You hated yourself for it. He terrified you, and you liked it.

Suddenly you felt all the air knocked out of you as he grabbed you by the arms and shoved you into the wall. Lucille was still clutched in his right hand, inches away from your face. You’d taken much longer than he had liked to respond.

“You know, I am getting sick and tired of your fucking attitude.”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t think straight with the feeling of his large hands clamped around your arms. All you could focus on was how close he was to you, how strong he was, keeping you pinned against the wall.

“Just cause I like you doesn’t mean you get a free pass to be a little brat.” He spat at you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered. His eyes burned into you and for a second you had no fucking idea what he was about to do.

Then, he sighed and let go of you. You leaned against the wall and tried to catch your breath. He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face as he paced around a little bit.

“I just don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to take me seriously.”

“I do take you seriously.” You said, a little shocked. You had seen him brutally murder people in cold blood. You knew entirely what he was capable of.

“Mmmm no.” He shook his head, smiling coldly at you, “Cause yeah, you do what you're told and you do a good job of it.” He stepped closer to you again, crowding you up against the wall, “But I'm not sure you really know who's on top here. You see, I don't like the way you look at me sweetheart."

You looked up at him, trying to mask your feelings of fear and reluctant arousal.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to submit to me? Hmm?” He asked tauntingly and cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

You couldn’t help the waves of arousal that spread through you, leaving you throbbing in your jeans. You subconsciously bit your lip as you looked at his lips. He had never gotten this close to you before, only leaving you light touches on your arm or lower back whenever he had the chance.

He examined your face before his eyes flitted down to where you were clenching your thighs, desperate for friction. He smirked,

“Ohh…you want me to fuck you don’t you?”

You gasped at his forwardness and stumbled to find the right words,

“Negan I-“

“No you want me to fuck you.” He repeated licking his lips, “You’re practically fucking begging for me.”

“Negan, no you don’t-“

He interrupted you again by grabbing your hair and pulling it back, you couldn’t help the loud moan that tore from your throat.

“There she is.” He murmured and slowly leaned in to kiss you. Hypnotized by his proximity and his touch, that twisted part of you that was drawn to Negan lit up and took over and you leaned in and crashed your lips into his.

He tightened his grip in your hair and you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, still holding Lucille.

He groaned as he pulled away, still holding you.

“Goddamn you are incredible.” You whined and leaned into his hand that cupped your cheek, “But…I still gotta punish you”

“How?” You asked and you couldn’t help how small your voice was.

He stared down at you for a moment, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“I think you already know how.”

***

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. What the fuck am I doing?

That was your thought process as you let Negan devour you, licking into your mouth and running his large hands all over your body, claiming you. You knew it was wrong but he felt so fucking good. You’d been traveling for so long, alone with your brother, so focused on taking care of him that you had never been able to enjoy something like this. A man who wanted you, wanted to take you apart, make you his. In this moment you realized how much you had been craving physical intimacy. You didn’t care who he was or what he did anymore, all you cared about was how alive he made you feel.

Suddenly he pulled away and stepped back a little. He licked his lips and smiled slowly.

“Strip for me.”

“W-what?”

“You fucking heard me. Strip.” He commanded.

The pulsing between your thighs grew stronger as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head. His dark eyes stayed trained on you as you unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down. You stood in front of him in your underwear, feeling vulnerable already.

“Look at you, bein such a good girl for me already.” He smiled and walked closer to you again. He pulled you close to him and ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass roughly as he inhaled, his face buried in your neck. You held on to his broad shoulders, your cheek pressed against the leather of his jacket.

You yelped as he landed a harsh slap to your ass.

“Mmm I like the sound of that.” He smirked and pulled away from you, grabbing your hair tightly again.

“Now what the fuck do I do with you?” He mused.

Anything you want. Your mind screamed as you bit your lip, fisting the fabric of his white t shirt. Your head was spinning with what he was gonna do to you. The endless possibilities. He could even hurt you if he wanted.

He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, letting it slide down your arms revealing your breasts to him.

“Holy shit.” he breathed as he looked down at you, “You’ve got some nice fuckin tits.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, blushing as you looked down at the floor.

“I mean it.” He sighed as he ran his hands up your torso. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he cupped them, running his fingers over your hardening nipples. You loved the way he looked at you, like he was hypnotized by you. You couldn’t help the soft moan that fell from your lips as you arched your back, letting your breasts fill his hands.

He leaned down, licking at your chest, running his tongue over one of your nipples and sucking it into his mouth. You moaned louder and pulled on his hair as his hands went down to your ass, lifting you up against him.

You ground your hips onto him and he laughed lowly against your chest.

“You want it fuckin bad don’t you?” He moved to your other breast, biting your nipple gently, his hands firmly under your ass, supporting your weight. Everything about him was intoxicating, his mouth, his tongue, the way his beard felt on your bare chest, the leather under your fingertips, the way his belt dug into your clothed clit just right.

Moving his mouth off of your nipple he threw you down onto the bed.

“Hands and knees. Now.” He said to you, his deep voice sending shivers through you.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, looking up at him.

He smiled slowly, coldly,

“I’m gonna take my time with you.” He shrugged off his jacket, revealing his tattooed biceps, “I’m gonna hurt you baby, but you’re gonna like it.” Your breath hitched at that as he pulled his shirt off and leaned over you.

“I’m gonna have you crying and begging for me to let you come. And then I’m gonna make it so that my name is the only fucking thing you remember.”

With that he kissed you roughly, sliding his tongue into your mouth unabashedly. You moaned against him, running your hands up and down his arms, trying to savor this moment as much as you could.

You couldn’t help but whimper as he pulled away and he laughed at you again, flipping you over onto your stomach and pulling your hips so that your ass was up in the air. Any caution you had previously was thrown to the wind, you were drunk on him.

He slowly pulled your panties down to your knees, leaving you bare for him.

“Fuck that’s a pretty fuckin pussy.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your glistening folds, “Damn, you’re so wet for me already, I haven’t even fucking touched you.”

Your body jolted and you moaned, hips searching for more release. He chuckled,

“Yeah…you’re gonna be cryin for me real soon.”

Without warning he landed a hard smack against your ass and you moaned and buried your face in the bed.

“You like that?” He taunted and spanked you again, harder this time. You whimpered and grabbed onto the sheets. You couldn’t believe you were letting him treat you like this. You’d only had sex a handful of times and none of them had been like the earth shattering experience you’d heard about.

This however was amazing. The pain on your ass was tingling, spreading across your thighs and your pussy, desperately squeezing around nothing.

He spanked you again, this time hard on your cunt and you moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Fuck you really like that don’t you?” He hit you again and again until you were screaming into bed. He grabbed your hair and yanked you up so you could see him, his eyes were wild with lust and power.

“Answer me.”

You nodded quickly, his grip on your hair burning your scalp.

“Yes.” You gasped, “Yes Negan I love it”

He hit you a few more times, marveling at the way your ass reddened for him. You whimpered and tried to squirm away from the overstimulation.

“You gonna cry?” He mocked.

“Negan please.” You whined, his cruelty only making you wetter, “It’s too much I can’t-“

“Well if it was all fun and nice it wouldn’t be a punishment now would it?”

He spanked you more and more until your ass and thighs burned. You’d lost count of how many times he’d hit you at this point. The satisfaction from before was starting to melt into severe pain and you started to get scared that he’d keep going and going and not listen to you.

He landed a final hard spank on your cunt and you wailed, burying your face in the mattress as he let go of your hair, tears springing from your eyes.

“Negan I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please!” You hiccuped. He sighed above you and ran his hand down your back.

“Alright baby.” He said, “Turn over for me.”

You didn’t dare wait to listen to him as you rolled over on your back, wincing when your sensitive skin hit the bedding.

“Aw” He cooed at you mockingly, “You sore?”

You blinked back tears and tried to pull yourself together but the dripping heat between your legs betrayed you. His brow furrowed as he looked down at you,

“There’s that look again.” He tsked and bent down over you, kissing and sucking on your neck. You moaned in pleasure and ran your hands up his back, pushing your breasts up against his bare chest. He slowly made his way down your chest, manhandling your breasts as he did. You opened your legs for him automatically, allowing him to fit between them as he kissed lower and lower, pulling your panties down the rest of the way.

He kissed over your lower stomach and hips and you giggled a little at the sensation.

He pretended to ignore it but he couldn’t help but smile into your skin. He was so enamored by your youth and beauty, your softness, the pretty little noises you made for him. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed punishing you. Almost.

The sight of him between your legs was heavenly, looking up at you with those dark hazel eyes, his salt and pepper beard scratching against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he kissed them, getting closer and closer to your aching core.

“Negan wait!” You stopped him right before he reached where he wanted, grabbing at his hair.

He slowly raised up from where his mouth was inches away from your pussy, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way.

“Yeah?” He asked, almost exasperatedly.

“I’ve um...” You started, feeling your face grow hot from embarrassment, “I’ve never had anyone...do that to me before.”

“What? This?” He asked and ran his tongue between your lips, flicking your clit up and down. You gasped and your head fell back, hitting the bed. He continued making lazy circles on your clit with his tongue. It felt insane, unlike anything else you’d ever had. You whined as you felt yourself coming close to the edge already.

Negan continued his assault on your pussy until your legs were shaking over his shoulders, you were so close to coming when he pulled away. You whined at the loss and sat up, grabbing at him without even thinking.

“You’re not getting it that easily sweetheart.” He said as he rubbed your thighs, his beard glistening with your arousal. You gasped, the throbbing between your legs almost painful. You tried to close your legs but he held them open forcefully.

“Do it again.” You whimpered, “It feels so good Negan please.” His eyes darkened at the way you begged for him. His cock was impossibly hard in his jeans. He wanted to give it to you so bad but he couldn’t have you thinking you could mouth off the way you did and just get away with it.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He leaned back down and spit harshly on your cunt. You fell back against the bed with a moan.

“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, gripping his hair and rolling your hips against his face. He laughed, the vibrations running through you, only making you feel better.

“Godamn,” he gasped, still so close to you, “Can’t believe I’m the first guy to taste this sweet pussy.”

He dipped his tongue into your hole, curling it, fucking up into you. You let out the most beautiful moan when he did that, full of desperation. It only fueled him further, he rubbed your clit quickly with his fingers as he licked and sucked on your walls.

You gasped and cried, riding his tongue as he guided your hips with a vice grip. The pleasure was so intense, tears started to spring to your eyes. You could feel the pressure of your release building within you and you gripped Negan harder as you felt yourself approaching the edge.

Suddenly, he pulled his tongue out of you, leaving you a moaning crying mess.

“Negan” You whined and fisted the sheets, tears beginning to spill down your face.

“Fuck.” He laughed, kissing up your cunt until he reached your clit before pulling away entirely, “She tastes so fucking good.”

His words had you in a tailspin. You forgot about everything: the terrible things you’ve had to do for your survival, all that you’ve lost, the horrific things you’ve seen Negan do. None of it mattered, all that mattered was how fucking good his tongue felt in your pussy.

“Negan.” You gasped, sitting up and grabbing his shoulders, desperately, “Why aren’t you letting me come?”

He chuckled cruelly at your wrecked expression, tears streaming down your face from the two orgasms he’d already denied you.

“You know why sweetheart,” He murmured as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, collecting some of the tears on your face with it, “I can’t let you come ‘till I’m sure you learned your lesson.”

“Please.” You whined, “Give it to me please, I want it so bad.” You gasped and let one of your hands run down his body, cupping his hard length through his pants. Your eyes widened as you felt how big he was, meeting his smug expression as he watched your reaction.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish baby.”

You shook your head almost violently and, before you could stop yourself, you reached for his belt, pulling him closer to you and making him grunt.

“I want it.” You said, your lips brushing against his. You shocked yourself, you were usually strong and hid your true feelings but this man brought out something primal in you. You were still chasing those orgasms he’d ripped away from you. Your pussy throbbed painfully and you were willing to do anything to get that release.

“You got to taste me.” You slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. You slipped your hand under his waistband and found his cock, running your hand up and down his shaft.

“You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart?” He murmured, looking down at you through hooded eyes.

You bit your lip and nodded, your eyes desperate as you looked at him through wet eyelashes.

“I’m gonna need you on your knees then.” He said lowly.

You shakily got to the ground, your knees resting on the cold floor. He stood, looking down at you, satisfied with your obedience.

“Fuck you look real pretty like this.” He sighed, “Right where you fucking belong.”

You freed his cock from his pants and ran your hand up and down his shaft, feeling how painfully hard he was. He was thick and long with precum already leaking from his tip.

You couldn’t help but think how it was fitting that Negan’s dick would be just as sexy and intimidating as he was.

“You gonna suck my dick or what?” His voice was laced with amusement at you gawking at him.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and covered the plush tip of his cock with your lips, sucking softly as you eased yourself down his length.

“It’s ok baby.” He sighed, “I’ve got a nice dick, can’t blame you for staring.”

You rolled your eyes as you took more of him into your mouth. He was as egotistical as always but you couldn’t even blame him at this point. He had equipment worth bragging about.

You focused on him as you bobbed your head up and down rhythmically, stroking the length that couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

He threw his head back and rested his hands on the back of your head as you slipped his dick in and out of your mouth

“Fuck” he moaned lowly, “You love suckin cock don’t you.”

You hummed around his length as you enthusiastically bobbed your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks to make the feeling more intense.

His hips jutted up and his cock slid further down your throat, gagging you.

“Yeah? You like that?” He began to move his hips more, fucking into your mouth, “You like choking on my fucking cock?”

You couldn’t even respond, you just made obscene noises as you gagged around him, letting him use you.

You reached an almost meditative state while your tongue ran along the veins of his cock. Choking every time the huge head of it hit the back of your throat. You just let go, let him have control. You didn’t think about anything else, all your senses were filled by him. It felt so good to just forget about everything, nothing mattered at this point except pleasing Negan.

Even though you were more than willing to swallow his cum, he insisted on stopping and pulling you up to the bed again. After pulling his pants all the way off, he had you straddling his lap, his dick running along the wet lips of your pussy.

“Come on,” he said huskily in your ear, his breath hitting your neck, “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“Want it so bad please.” You whined immediately, your pathetic desperation making him chuckle lowly.

“I’ll be good for you.” You looked up at him, your lips still puffy from when you’d sucked him off, your eyes red and hair messy.

Negan decided he really liked how you looked when you were drunk off his cock.

“Fuck me, please.” You bit your lip and batted your eyelashes just for good measure.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He murmured, cupping your face in his hand, “Just gotta ask you one question.”

You watched as his expression darkened and he moved the hand that was so lovingly holding your cheek down under your jaw. He started squeezing your neck, the sensation made your head spin.

“Who are you?”

You gasped as his long fingers dug into the soft skin of your neck. You relaxed back onto his bed, the feeling of him surrounding you.

Watching him through hooded, tear stained eyes, the lighting in the room softened. A glow of light surrounded him, making him look like some sort of god.

“I’m Negan.” You sighed, rocking your hips against his dick, loving the way he felt up against you.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear and filled you up in one thrust, making you gasp and dig your fingernails into his back.

“Oh my God.” It came out in a broken whine as he stretched you, impaling you on his cock.

He groaned lowly in your ear as he started to thrust in and out of you. “You’re fucking tight baby.”

You could only respond with moans as he started to fuck you faster, hitting deep inside of you. You held onto him for dear life as he fucked your brains out, holding onto your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow.

You didn’t care, you loved how rough he was. You loved the urgency and power of his thrusts as he fucked deeper into you than you thought possible. You loved how his fingers felt digging into your ass, you needed more.

“Negan,” You managed in between moans, “H-hurt me. Please”

His eyes lit up and he put his hand around your throat again, making you clench around his cock.

“You like gettin’ hurt don’t you darlin’” he said softly against your temple, you could tell he was smiling.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over, slipping back into you easily.

“You really want it to hurt?” He started pounding into you impossibly hard, hitting your g spot over and over again.

“Oh my god-oh my god.” You moaned over and over again, reaching behind you to grab onto some part of him.

He pulled you up against his chest and wrapped a rough hand around your neck for the third time, fucking up into you at a punishing pace. He felt unbelievably good inside of you, you felt yourself hurtling to the edge quickly. Your legs started shaking as you got close.

“Negan.” You whined as he let you back down on the bed, “I’m-oh fuck.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because you were already coming.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he pulled you back on his dick roughly, “Come on my fucking cock, just like that.”

You whimpered at his praise, you were so glad that he was satisfied with you. You’d taken your punishment so well. And now you were being so good for him, letting him fuck you as hard as he wanted.

His thrusts started to get sloppier and you could tell he was chasing his own orgasm. Your heart pounded with anticipation.

“You close baby?” You heard it tumble past your own lips. You surprised yourself, you’d always felt stupid when you tried to talk dirty but it felt natural with Negan.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, grabbing your ass.

“I want your cum so bad.” You moaned, feeling your pussy throb around him as you felt another orgasm building up in your stomach.

Your words only spurred him further, fucking you viciously as he sent you over the edge again. This time he let go with you, moaning loudly into your hair as he came deep inside of you. Your body shuddered as you felt the way his warm seed coated your walls, you’d never felt that before and it was amazing.

You sat there for a moment, him still inside of you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your spine before slowly pulling out of you. You let yourself go limp against the mattress.

You laid there trying to catch your breath, unable to move, unable to talk, filled with his cum.

You looked up at him and he smiled at you, his tatted chest heaving. He leaned forward, over your body.

“Now that.” He whispered pointing at you, “Is the look I wanted see.”

He flopped down next to you on his bed, not bothering to clean his spend off of you. He sighed as he reached into the table next to him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

He let out a little moan of satisfaction as he took a drag and blew the smoke out. The smell surrounded you and you were suddenly transported back to high school, back to when everything was normal.

Memories of you and your friends sneaking out of class to smoke cigarettes under the bleachers flooded your mind. It smelled like before, like safety. You quickly reached over to take the cigarette from him without even thinking.

He slapped your hand as your fingers brushed his wrist,

“Ah-use your fuckin manners.” He scolded you, but the corner of his mouth pulled up a little.

“Please?” You rested your head on his chest, batting your eyelashes up at him again. He smiled and brought the cigarette to your lips, letting you inhale some smoke.

Hesitantly, you snuggled further into his chest, tentatively wrapping an arm around his waist. He didn’t stop you, just put an arm around your shoulders and took another drag from his cigarette.

You sighed as you lay against him. Maybe it was the aftermath of your orgasms but for the first time in years you were feeling content and safe. You focused on the way his chest moved under you, the way his rough fingertips caressed your lips as he let you take another drag from his cigarette. Everything just stood still, and you felt okay.

You tried not to think about the gravity of the situation. You had done what you promised yourself you wouldn't, and it had been better than you ever could've imagined.

You knew it and he knew it: you were his now.

I knew it was wrong

I’m beyond it

I tried to be strong

But I lost it

A/N: hehehehe hope y’all liked this. sorry it ended up being so long I just kind of went with a length and flow that felt right. Negan’s just so hot I just needed to include everything sex-wise teehee. Also he needed to eat some pussy like…he’s a piece of shit so he has a lot to make up for. Ik there isn’t really aftercare besides him j letting her chill with him but who knowssss maybe I’ll write more Negan fluff in the future. I’m j obsessed w him and I wanna be his little whore HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA OK BYE

#negan smith #twd #daddy negan #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan #dilf lover #negan x reader #negan smut #negan fic #negan #negan fanfiction #twd fic #twd fanfiction #fanfic #smut lol #just a lot of smut

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usedpidemo · 6 months

Text

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea?

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now?

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.

Almost.

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come?

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally!

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.

This is different.

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?”

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning.

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #yeri #red velvet

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targaryen-dynasty · 2 months

Text

SUSPICIOUS SILENCE.

Modern!Daemon Targaryen x pregnant!wife!Reader

WARNINGS: Family fluff, hinted lactation kink lol

WORDS: 986

NOTES: Here is the fluff everyone (me lmao) wanted!! Love me some nice happy family scenarios with our favorite men, tbh. And I'm stuck in limbo with Object of Desire right now! This is not beta read!

Daemon was working from home today to take care of your daughter while you were out for brunch with Floris, his nephew’s wife that’s also winding down the halfway mark of pregnancy just like you.

And although it’s around your toddler’s daytime nap time, it’s too quiet when you open the front door to your penthouse. Suspiciously quiet.

You should be hearing Daemon talk on the phone or type on his keyboard, very rarely even doing the cleaning. But the door to his office is ajar, the light is turned on, however, there’s complete silence.

As you walk towards it, peeking into the room, you notice it’s vacant, the large office chair empty.

You frown, and continue to walk along the hallway. There’s nervousness creeping up on you, mostly because Daemon would’ve messaged you if he decided to go outside with your daughter, and you start to rub your protruding bump in a reassuring manner. That is, until you stand in the door to the living space; the sight you’re greeted with immediately melting your heart.

Daemon is lying on the sofa, bare chested and a towel still clutched in his right hand, and your little daughter is firmly tucked into his left side, her cheek pressed against his chest with his hand resting on her back.

The sight of your little daughter sleeping soundly in his arms is enough to make you smile. Despite his rough exterior, your big, tough husband also is a loving father who doesn’t hesitate to do anything for his family.

You walk over to him, and press a gentle kiss to his forehead which slowly makes his mesmerizing blue eyes creak open. Squinting them to adjust to the brightness of the room, he doesn’t move a muscle besides that to not wake the sleeping toddler up.

Daemon gazes up at you with a soft stare, before finally speaking with a low voice. “Hello, darling. How was your day?”

Caressing his arm tenderly, you smile at him. “It was alright. You two are enjoying some quality time, I see,” you whisper. “Had a nice nap?”

“Aye, we had quite a fun time. Wanted to take a quick shower while she was asleep, but she woke up and needed me to comfort her.”

You gently fondle your daughter’s hair, smoothing it as you both just watch her for a moment. “I’ll watch her for a little while if you still want to take a shower,” you eventually propose.

But your husband isn’t having any of it. “Nah, how about you join us now, and we both take that shower together once this little monkey’s in bed, mh?” His hand clasps around your wrist, and he gently tugs you towards the sofa, not giving you any chance to reject his offer.

His proposition makes you chuckle softly, and you feel your cheeks turn red. If there is one thing your husband knows, it’s how to take care of you, too. After the birth of your daughter, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body, especially with the weight you’ve gained throughout the pregnancy. But there hasn’t passed one moment where Daemon hasn’t made you feel desired and wanted by him, and the look he currently gives you is enough to send your hormones raging again.

Throwing the towel aside, you sit down to his right and snuggle up against him. His right hand snakes around your waist, instinctively coming to rest atop your swollen belly, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his irresistible scent.

The toddler stirs slightly in her sleep, but isn’t too fazed by the slight commotion of you joining them on the sofa.

“You do make a convincing argument,” you whisper, licking your lips.

Noticing the sudden flush of color that appears on your cheeks, a mischievous glint flickers in his eyes. He nudges his nose against yours, and it’s enough to coax you to kiss him. It’s soft, barely more than a peck, and you’re struggling to keep yourself composed hearing his next words.

“I can convince you of far better things once we’re all by ourselves, darling.”

You chuckle at his remark, and place your hand atop his on your bump, squeezing it softly. “Make sure to keep that promise. Don’t want to hope you’re just all talk,” you tease, your eyes flickering between his and his lips. “There are two things I definitely need your help with, Daddy.”

Briefly glancing down at your swollen breasts, already producing enough milk as if they mean to provide for twins, you can spot the exact moment Daemon’s brain processes the innuendo.

You follow his line of sight, lingering a tad too long on your full breasts, and chuckle as you notice his breath hitch in his throat.

Daemon gives you a teasing look, the blue hue of his eyes almost eclipsed by black at this point, and bites his bottom lip. “I’m sure I can assist you thoroughly with whatever you need, darling.”

Running a hand through his hair before you slowly rise from the sofa, you giggle as you see him pout. “Let’s see then how well you follow through on your promises, Daddy,” you say, bringing your index finger to your lips as if you’re in thought. “Maybe we should ask Rhaenyra to take our girl for the night? Jace is just a few months older, and he’s completely besotted with her. We haven’t had any alone time in ages, and I’m sure she and Harwin won’t mind.”

You can’t see the look on Daemon’s face at your suggestion, for you make yourself on your way to prepare the afternoon snack for your soon-to-wake daughter, but you hear him sigh loud and clear, and it’s enough to make you grin and your heart flutter. Just the anticipation of finally having some well deserved alone time with him again makes your blood run hot.

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @valeskafics @connorsui @arcielee @watercolorskyy @black-dread @darylandbethfanforever9 @croatianprincess @snowystark @moonlightfoxx @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @tsujifreya @nothingqueens @ashovertheriver @bbgmonsay @doublesparrows @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel

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lowkeychenle · 7 months

Text

Irrevocably [ZCL] (M)

Description: You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction.

DID YOU MISS ME?! It's been so long someone should chop my hands off omg

Genre: Smut. Angst. Read at your own discretion!!! Read the warnings first please! It's mostly smut tho tbh

Also it's not proofread or anything crazy like that but I do hope y'all like it...I've been so busy sos

Content Warnings: Explicit, rough, unprotected sex (don't do the unprotected part), Chenle says pretty girl again (not sorry) and also slut because duality (again?), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (both), cum eating (like he actually eats his...own cum...), he's pretty pussy drunk in this he cums twice, Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! Also I'm not sure if this can be considered infidelity but if you're sensitive to that topic read with caution!

Word Count: 4,877

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (mentions of Mark Lee x Reader)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

You can’t even say you haven’t heard from him in a while. That’s far from the truth—and in your opinion, maybe you hear from him too often. Your friendship was constructed long before any other aspect, but for as long as you could remember, it’s been you and Chenle.

Now there’s you, and there’s him. Inherently separate.

Your situation with him was simple—friends with benefits. And everything was working great at first, and the end wasn’t traumatic and the world didn’t crumble. You weren’t in love with each other, and you both mutually understood that the second someone has the potential to become more in one of your lives that you’d stop immediately.

So, when Chenle started talking to his now girlfriend, you did the right thing. The respectful thing. You backed off, and you wouldn’t say you regret it. He’s happy—happier than he was before, and that’s all you want for him. You’ve been friends for forever, after all, and what would that make you if you had ill wishes for him?

It was three months after he started dating his girlfriend that he introduced you to one of his friends, Mark. Fortunately, you got along with him well, and he gave you a much needed distraction from the empty void Chenle had left in your life. He’d been more than sex, but less than love. He gave you company and companionship, even if it was in an unconventional way.

You’d been up front and honest with Mark about your relationship with Chenle, but he didn’t mind as long as you were sure there hadn’t been feelings involved. For Chenle, you weren’t sure if he ever told his girlfriend about you. You wouldn’t blame him if he hadn’t, but considering you’d been sleeping together up until their first date, it might have been a good thing to mention.

The difference was simple—you and Mark weren’t anything, not really, but Chenle and his girlfriend were, in their words, serious. In fact, in the past four months, you hadn’t even slept with Mark. The most he was at this point was someone to keep you company.

And then everything blew up.

Chenle called you at 9 p.m., almost nine months after he started dating his girlfriend. You were in your apartment by yourself, watching the same TV show for the 70th time. You stare at your phone screen in confusion before you answer it.

“Hey,”

“Hey.” He lets out a breath, and the defeat in his voice hints something’s wrong.

“Everything okay?” you ask him, sitting up on your couch.

“We broke up.” Chenle pauses, maybe to contemplate what he says next. ��Can I come see you? I know it’s random, and I probably shouldn’t, but to be bluntly fucking honest, I’ve missed you.”

“We talk all the time,” you mention and cradle your knees to your chest.

The thought of allowing Chenle here so late scares you—old habits die hard. You feel like you owe more than that to both Mark and Chenle. Mark, because while you two aren’t together, you’ve grown quite close over the past few months. Chenle, because he’s probably not thinking straight at the moment.

“You’re the only one I can talk to about this,” he mumbles.

Your heart sinks. “It was because of me?”

“I…Not exactly. It wasn’t you at all. It was us. And it was me for not saying anything.” He sighs, and you envision the way he tugs his fingers through his hair.

“You never told her?”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” he says. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I used to fuck one of my closest friends on the regular, but now that you’re here, I stopped.’ That doesn’t sound great.”

“Better than her finding out some other way.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I told Mark.”

“That’s different,” Chenle replies. “You’re not dating Mark.”

A moment of silence passes between you two, and when you don’t respond, he clears his throat.

“Oh. You are.”

“It’s not like that.”

“So, what is it like? Is it like what we were?” He sounds shorter, as if he’s no longer enjoying the conversation.

You scoff. “It’s none of your business, Chenle. Mark is nice. And you’re the one who introduced us anyway.”

“Mark is nice,” he repeats, snorting. “You act like I don’t know you. Nice isn’t exactly your type.”

“You can come here if you stop being a dick,” you tell him. “But we’re only talking.”

“Good. I’ve got a lot to say.”

You debate changing after he hangs up, but Chenle’s already seen you at your worst. Your shorts and T-shirt won’t faze him in the slightest. Nerves like this haven’t swarmed you since the first time you slept with him. Clearly, your body doesn’t get the memo that this isn’t a booty call.

And when he arrives, you realize how well he fits. The dim, golden lighting reflecting off of his skin, the dark, oversized clothes he likes to wear, the way his hair is parted. Everything about him is exactly as you remember. It’s odd to think that way, because really, you’ve seen him as often as you used to. Things were just…different.

And under these circumstances, it’s awkward. But even when he was dating his girlfriend, there were times where the two of you were alone—nothing ever happened, of course, but it hadn’t ever been so nerve wracking until now.

It isn’t for long, though. Within seconds of your thoughts running wild, he’s closing the distance between you and pulling you into a tight hug. You exhale in relief and return the gesture with no hesitation. He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s inhaling your scent.

Something about this hurts. Your ribcage suddenly feels like a prison, and all you want is for your heart to be free. Why does it feel like something’s stabbing it?

“I’m sorry for asking to come over so late,” he whispers. “And for being a dick about Mark. It’s not my business.”

There’s a twist deep in your chest. You wonder if there’s truly anything left in there.

“It’s okay, Le.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”

You move away from him, lightly grabbing his hand to lead him over to your couch. When you’re both seated, he rests his head on your shoulder. You reach up to play with his hair, and instinct you became familiar with when he needed comfort back when you two were messing around.

“She asked about you.” His fingers toy with yours, warm touch gently grazing your skin. “Really, I had no idea what to say. There isn’t much to say, you know? So, that’s what I said. I told her we’ve been friends for forever and…that’s it.”

“Technically not wrong.” You chuckle, but the ache within you only grows.

“I went to shower and when I got out, she was going through my phone. By the time I realized what she was doing, she’d already found more than enough to be pissed.”

“What was it?”

“Pictures. In our text conversations from like…almost a year ago. I get why she was upset, you know? But it’s not like they were recent. Or even in my camera roll, for fuck’s sake.” He shuffles a bit closer, his warmth pressing into you. “But I should’ve checked and made sure. Or something. So, I’m sorry someone else saw those, (Y/N).”

“Did I look good at least?” you joke.

“Oh, fuck off.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You always look good and you know it.”

You get a sudden, overwhelming urge to look at him. His words make your stomach turn, and you’re desperate to figure out what the hell is going on with you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He ponders for a moment. “I thought I’d be a little more upset, but the only thing I was really thinking about was coming to see you.”

Chenle sits up, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he takes you in. His gentle brown eyes trail over you, unrecognizable emotions swimming around in his irises. You find him still as extraordinary as ever. His features so sharp, lips perfectly full. You fight the craving to reach out and trace his jawline.

“It’s just…” he murmurs. “It just always comes back to you, doesn’t it?”

“Chenle…”

“It’s been so long,” he continues. “Since I’ve seen you like this.”

“We hung out all the time.”

“No. Not like this. I know why you did, but you got so distant from me. Didn’t you ever think about me? That whole time?” He wets his lips.

“How could you ask me that?” you breathe out. “I thought about you all the time, but you weren’t mine to think about.”

“When I thought of you, it used to hurt. I used to have to distract myself from you because it was wrong to want you when I had everything else.” His gaze flicks down to your lips, and you feel every ounce of you crumble to pieces.

“It’s not…wrong anymore,” you say.

His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours. You let out a shaky breath against him, but quickly reciprocate what he gives you. All hesitation is out the window now, all thoughts of him being too upset at a moment like this fly from your brain.

It’s Chenle. He’s kissing you. This is familiar. Right, even.

“God, it’s been too long.” He reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin. “Need you, baby. Never wanna lose you like that again.”

Your heart is beating so fast, you’re not exactly sure how to respond to that. The longer you take in every word leaving his mouth, the quicker you realize what’s happening to you.

You haven’t slept with Mark because you do have feelings for Chenle. It hits you like a freight train, and the fear sinks in only for a second before you slam your lips back to his. Being with him like this feels good, like nothing could go wrong.

The quietest moan slips from his mouth into yours, and just like it used to, heat floods your core. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his scalding touch trailing across your side before settling on the small of your back.

You pull away from him and gently push against his chest. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

“Need a distraction.” He swallows hard. “That’s what we are for each other right? She’s out of the picture, so I get to have you again?”

You shake your head. “Only when we’re both available. Not just you.”

“Did you fuck him?” Chenle tone drops, a dark hint of jealousy gracing those narrowed brown eyes. One of his hands drops down to your thigh, tracing along the hem of your shorts. “Is that why you don’t want me anymore? He’s better or something?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I—Chenle, I haven’t.”

Wetting his lips, his touch trails higher, his skin burning against yours in the best way. “Don’t you miss me? Or at least the way I made you feel? When’s the last time someone made you cum?”

He notices when your legs press together, desperate for any sort of friction between them. You’re fighting every urge you have, wanting nothing more than to have Chenle right here on your couch, but something holds you back.

Leaning closer, he hums lowly in your ear, “You know what I can do.” His lips press against the spot below your ear, slowly heading down until his tongue runs along your pulse.

“Damn it,” you groan, pushing him back. “Take your pants off.”

As you stand up to push your shorts and panties to the floor, he lifts his hips to push his sweats to down his legs. He reaches into his boxers and strokes himself slowly.

“C’mon, baby.” He smirks at you. “Sit on it.”

You straddle his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls his cock out. One hand grips your hip and he holds you above him.

“Do we need a condom?” he asks, gaze glazed with want.

“I haven’t slept with anyone,” you mutter, face heating up for more reasons than one.

“It was just…” he trails off and gulps. “You know. I’m clean.”

The idea of him with her is almost enough to snap you out of it, but the last thing you plan on doing is getting off his lap. You ignore the sting of your heart and instead trade it for the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate Chenle with no prep. Whining at the pain, you stop after a couple inches.

“S’okay, baby,” he encourages you. “Take it slow.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, lifting up before sinking back down to take a bit more of him than the last time. He breathes heavily, biting down on his bottom lip while his chest heaves.

“Just a little more.” Chenle slowly pulls you closer until he’s fully seated inside you.

The stretch has your legs shaking, whimpers escaping you as he whispers praises to you.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Letting me fill this pretty pussy with my cock.”

Chenle tugs your shirt over your head, freeing your bare breasts. He lets out a small sound at the sight before leaning down to kiss them, teeth nipping and tongue flicking your nipple.

Unable to hold back anymore, you push him back harshly. His lips part as you grind, sweet moans escaping him at the same time yours do.

“So tight,” he groans. “You waited ‘cause you knew no one else could do this to you, huh?”

“Shut up,” you command him.

His eyebrows raise for the briefest moment, until you start bouncing on his cock. Wetness starts squelching around the two of you, aiding you in your quick movements on top of him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” Chenle thrusts up to match you, hands trailing around your body to squeeze your ass harshly. A slap comes next, the sound resounding through the room.

Your hips jolt, thrown off your rhythm at the stinging sensation on your skin. Nails leaving angry, red crescent moons in his skin, you rock back and forth to stabilize yourself before continuing. The sound of your arousal would embarrass you under any other circumstances, but the fucked out expression on Chenle’s face is enough to keep you going.

You don’t hold back your moans, letting the needs of your body take over instead of whatever the hell is going on in your head. He feels so fucking good inside you, the rough slide of his length against your walls, the way he throbs with want for you. The twitch of his cock inside you has a knot tightening in your stomach.

“Look at me,” he says roughly.

You don’t bother listening, too focused on your own pleasure to justify stopping.

“I said fucking look at me.” He grabs your face, pulling you close so you're inches away from him, hooded, hazy brown eyes devouring you. “Keep fucking yourself on my cock.”

You let out a weak moan, legs aching as you continue, but you know you need more. Trying to grind down, you do whatever you can to get friction on your clit. Whines slip past your lips, with the mind-shattering high just out of reach.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” Chenle slaps your ass again.

“Close,” you practically whimper. “Touch me. Fuck, please.”

Immediately, he lets go of his harsh grip on your cheeks, reaching between you two and quickly finding your clit. Your nails scratch down his shoulders, leaving marks as his fast circles push you over the edge.

You scream out in pleasure, your vision blacking out as you’re swept up in your climax. Crumpling into him, you squirm on top of him until he wraps his arm around your waist, warm seed coating your insides.

His chest heaves, lips parting as he rests his head back on the couch cushion. He gulps and strokes your hair while still slowly rocking up into you. You finally work up the energy to get off of him, but he holds you down.

“No,” he murmurs, breathless. “Not yet. Not done.”

Your body heats all over again, the idea of another round sends tingle down your spine. Goosebumps form on your skin, but you listen. Something has to make up for the lost time between you two.

“Need you again.” He nips where your neck and shoulder connects. “Can I take you to your room?”

You nod, unable to speak. He lifts you deftly from the couch, carefully walking over to your room like he’s done hundreds of times before. You hold onto him desperately, never wanting to let him go for more reasons than one.

As soon as you’re both on your bed, he’s already beginning to thrust again. You dig your nails into his back, but he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head.

“Be good,” he warns, filling you up over and over, ever so slowly. “Little pussy’s so greedy, sucking me in like this.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, the weight of him on top of you making you whine until your throat’s raw.

Every nerve-ending is on edge from your previous high, skin tingling and burning wherever his fingers trace shapes on you. You can barely keep your eyes open, the gentle brush of his chest against yours has your weak-minded state reading into this much more than you should.

If you could form actual words, you’d probably accidentally confess to him. He works through his own overstimulation, his jaw clenched tightly as he works your body expertly.

“I missed you,” he whispers, dipping his head down to nip along your neck. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” you force out, barely able to muster up the words. “God, yes.”

He hums, tonguing along the pulse in your neck. “You didn’t fuck him ‘cause he can’t make you feel like this, can he?”

You want to be mad at him for bringing Mark up at a time like this, but his words only make you shiver. He’s right. You can’t be mad at him when he’s right, and certainly not when your brain is fuzzy with the pleasure of his cock rubbing so, so slowly against your inner walls. Nobody could ever fill you like Chenle does.

“Answer me.” He thrusts particularly hard, jolting you up the mattress.

“Fuck, he can’t make me feel like you do.” You’re not entirely sure if your words are coherent, but Chenle seems satisfied by what you said.

“And you’d better remember that, too.” He releases your wrists and reaches between you two, resuming circles on your clit. “Could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting your cunt filled with my cum as many times as you can handle?”

You wrap your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close, the angle allowing him slightly deeper inside you. Between the delicious stretch of your walls and the uniform, skilled rubbing on your sensitive bud, your body shudders uncontrollably. Your back arches and your hands fly to his hair, loud, obscene moans pouring from your lips.

Chenle’s thrusts pick up as he helps you ride out your high, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to keep his steady pace. He slows to a stop, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, he kisses you, tongue already slipping past your lips to dominate your mouth the same way he’s dominated the rest of you.

“Think you can get on all fours for me?” he asks, his breath fanning across your face.

“Again?”

“Please, baby, I’m close already, just need a little more.” He presses kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose. “I need it so bad.”

You nod, shakily removing your legs from around his waist. He guides you to the position he wants, your head resting on the mattress as he squeezes your ass.

“You’re still so fucking wet,” he groans, a slap resonating around the room. “Might wanna hold on, pretty girl. I’m not going easy on you.”

Despite being an absolute rag doll, you clench in excitement at the idea of having him inside you again. You push back toward him, urging him to fuck you. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart, and even though they’re shaking, you plan on letting him pound into you until they fucking give out.

He runs the head up and down your folds, switching between barely pushing his tip inside and tapping it on your clit.

“God, I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Chenle growls, and the next thing you know, he’s thrusting inside you with as much force as he can. You scream, gripping onto the sheets and biting down on a pillow to attempt to silence yourself.

With all the stimulation, you feel constantly on the edge of another orgasm. His hips slap against your ass, the clapping sounds emphasizing your pleasure. Squelches of wetness float around too, the stickiness dripping down your thighs onto the bed the longer he has you in this position.

He shifts slightly so his balls smack your twitching clit with every thrust. You’re barely able to think straight, and you’re half-sure you’re drooling, but Chenle slams you into your third orgasm of the night rather easily. Your legs threaten to buckle, and he loops his arm around you to keep you up.

After a couple more thrusts, he moans loudly and spills deep inside you, chest heaving at the effort. Both of you wait in silence for a few moments, him to regain composure and you to remember how to breathe. He gently pulls out of you, turning you to drop your back down on the mattress. Once he gets out of bed, he stops in front of you and pulls you to the edge by your ankles. Nudging your legs apart, he sinks down to his knees.

“What are you doing?” you ask, rising up to your shaky elbows.

“Need a taste,” he says, mesmerized by the mess leaking out of your entrance. Swiping some of it up on his finger, he offers it to you. “Taste us, pretty girl. We’re so good together.”

You lean closer and wrap your lips around him, giving a harsh suck before you release him.

“God, baby, your pussy is so perfect when you’re leaking my cum.”

You’re not expecting him to move forward and flatten his tongue against your core. He holds your hips down to the bed, tentatively licking your slit. Without much effort from him, he’s reduced you to a mewling mess again, core throbbing with sensitivity even when he barely touches you. Your arms immediately give out, slumping you back onto the sheets as he works your core with his tongue.

It’s odd how much the idea of him eating you out when he came inside you turns you on. As limp as your body is, you relish in all of the pleasure he’s willing to give you. His tongue dances around your slit, alternating between slipping it between your folds and flicking your clit. You lazily tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough for him to moan against you.

Your hips jerk when his lips wrap around your bud, and next thing you know, his hands hold you down. You call out his name, pulling with the grip you have on his hair to tell him you’re much too sensitive to continue.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, blowing cold air on you. “Just a little bit more, okay? One more time.”

And then he’s back at the apex of your thighs, working much faster and harsher with his movements to get you to the edge faster. You shatter all over again, a mantra of noises passing by your lips as your thighs clench around his head.

You must actually black out for a moment, because when you come to, Chenle has pulled away from your core, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression equally as exhausted as yours.

He grabs a towel to clean you up, but both of you are beyond tired from all the activity. You shift up on your bed, not bothering to say anything else to him as you slide beneath your blanket. When you and Chenle did things before, he always stayed. He always pulled you into his chest and whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep.

You’re not sure if that will be the case today.

Except he does. He carefully crawls into bed next to you, turning you toward him and pulling you to him. Kissing the top of your head, he taps his fingers against your arm.

“I really missed you,” he says.

“Me, too.” You nod, but something makes your heart twist in your chest.

“Can I be honest for a second?”

“Of course.”

“I knew the pictures were there,” he whispers. “Maybe it’s shitty, but I couldn’t delete them. Sometimes, I looked back at our old conversations—not the sexual ones—and just…thought of you. I couldn’t do anything to erase you and what we did from my life. I didn’t want to.”

You wonder if that’s his idea of a confession. If he’s trying to tell you he has unresolved feelings for you.

“Then why did you stay with her?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Everyone liked her. My mom told me she thought I’d end up marrying her. She obviously didn’t know about…this. But I couldn’t fucking stop, (Y/N). Everything came back to you.”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” you offer. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Chenle takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s talk in the morning.”

You and Chenle wake at the same time, to the sound of his phone on the bedside table. Groaning, you massage your forehead and turn away from him. When he answers it, your interest is piqued.

“Hey.” Sleep still weighs on his voice, making it scratchy. “No, I’m not at home.”

There’s a pause, and the vague sound of the other person responding makes your heart twist violently in your chest. It’s her.

“Would you stop jumping to conclusions? I’m at Jisung’s.” Irritation laces in his tone.

You should say something. Let her know somehow that he’s lying, but you don’t. You stay silent in your hurt and wait to see what he could possibly do next.

“Yeah, forgive me for not wanting to be alone after what happened.” Chenle scoffs and runs his fingers through his hair. A sigh follows. “Damn it, I told you that was done. I’m sorry you saw those, okay? They’re from…over a year ago. It didn’t seem relevant to bring it up, and she’s still my friend, so.”

Friend. You almost laugh out loud, but again, you don’t say a word.

“Yeah, of course. Where?”

Another pause from Chenle.

“Yeah, I’ll stop by my house and then I’ll be over there. I’ll see you in half an hour?”

Your heart feels like it’s being shredded into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Thank you.” He sighs, his body deflating. “I’m so sorry for all of this, you know that, right? I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Tears sting your eyes, and as soon as he hangs up the phone, he hops up to go grab his clothes from the living room. You sit up in your bed, blanket clutched to your chest as you watch him scramble to get dressed.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I have to go,” he says, walking back into your room. Leaning in, he attempts to press a kiss to your lips. You turn away from him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“Where are you going?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

“She…She wants to talk it out. And I have to go. You understand why, right?” His eyes widen as he scans over your face.

When you say nothing, he sighs.

“I’ll text you later. You can answer or not. Whatever you want to do.” He walks toward the door to your bedroom, but you stop him when he reaches the threshold.

Your eyes sting, your body’s sore, and all you wanted was to tell him the truth this morning. Now it’s clear to you—he’ll never feel the same way for you. He’ll drop anything and everything—you included—if it meant getting her back.

“Chenle.”

He stops, turning to you.

“She’s going to make you choose,” you warn him. “Between her and me.”

Chenle pauses, fingertips gripping the frame. “I know.”

With that, you have nothing else to say, and he wouldn’t have time to hear it anyway. He leaves without another word to you, and when he’s far enough away, your tears finally fall. You want to scream and yell, but your throat is too raw from the long night before to even attempt it.

#nct #nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #zhong chenle #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle smut #nct smut #nct angst

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ganondoodle · 8 months

Text

thought about combining some of my yiga stories with the rewrite so

what if i took this old design for Ramuda (the thief that hid the clothing you can find in botw; i made him be the second founder of the yiga alongside koga) and used him as the boss of the shadow temple?

(in my yiga stories koga is a monk from back when the first calamity happened, after being hunted down by the royal family as their tech was being banned he and Ramuda founded the yiga; ramuda was a researcher and developed a way to seal malice into tattoos to make use of its life preserving and combat enhancing abilities; they used it first on themselves and it wasnt quite right yet the malice wasnt sealed enough within the tattoos and started to affect their mind leading them to get overtaken by their hatred for the royals and attempting to assassinate the king of their time, failing and being killed by the princess, hence the hole in his head, but they didnt die, the malice kept them alive but only in a zombie like way, they werent themselves anymore and were imprisoned in secret by the royal family- koga finished the research and used the more refined tech to do the same to himself which is why he is still alive to this day, side effects being mostly his extreme need for sleep, memory loss and loss of control when a bloodmoon hits)

so my thought was that the shadow temple is located beneath the akkala fort, but extremely hidden and kept a secret, the fortress being made in the first place to have constant control of it to make sure no one can even accidentally discover the dark secret the royal family of the past had kept (similar to the og shadow temple bc tbh it fits well into it all) ramuda being kept in an arena like cell at the end of it as he grew more agressive over time (id want to redesign them for this purpose but not by much, add more rot as they have been down there for centuries, and some sort of shackles, perhaps give him back arms that are shackled and in phase two they break free driven by the rage of recognizing that zelda is of royal blood once you defeat him they fall on their knees and start to disappear, but now that the malice is gone, and although they have no face left yet still recognize koga, weakly reaching for him with one hand, koga grabs it and as ramuda is already half gone his hand tightens the grip before disolving fully

even without spelling everything of this backstory out i think it work well as its clear koga had a personal connection to the person that turned into the boss and i think thats a realyl good thing, gives way more weight to it than just another mindless monster

a little more unsure is where the enigma stone was kept but one idea i had is that it was used to power whatever mechanism was put in place to keep ramuda locked in there, the only reason getting into the shadow temple at all being that it got damaged during the cataclysm and wasnt fully functioning anymore

(totk rewritten project)

#ganondoodles #zelda #art #ganondoodles talks #ganondoodles rewrites totk #yiga clan #weehooo another hour gone lol #thoughts go brrrrr

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creepy-friday · 1 year

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YOOOO THAT WAS SO GOOD 😫

Although I couldn't help but think about the deer in forest watching them do this 💀

But ok, I actually have an idea:

Do you think you can make headcannons (they can have NSFW if you want) about what would happen if the three Proxies actually fell for/grew attracted to Y/N? 👀

Like I think that would be such an interesting concept, the rivalry would go through the roof 😰

But again! Only if you want to!!! 💖

I love this! 👀 inspiration kicked in!

What if the three Proxies would fall for you?

AFAB READER

Warnings:suggestive themes,misogyny,

abuse,mental illness and violence mentions

if you are unfortunate enough to be the object of affection to these 3 gremlins then all I can wish you is good luck!

since you're a proxy you would be mostly assigned missions with the other minions of Slenderman,on very rare occasions you would work with the other creeps (I will get into that later)

you're also the only feminine presence they come in contact with,I'm also gonna press the fact that they are touch starved men in a manor filled with rapists,mentally ill and paranoic people.Things aren't pretty so I'm not gonna sugarcoat it

altough you're powerful given your rank and all,they are fully grown men.It's NEVER safe to be unarmed when spending time with any of them,including Toby who sometimes gives off the impression of being this sweet lost unfortunate boy

He's also the first one to be delusional enough to think you can be into him given your role to mediate others and to keep things under control.

he doesn't know shit about women,sure he can remember fragments of how his sister used to be,but he can't compare you to her.Given his experience with Clockwork+the constant bullying from Masky, he's insanely insecure

he has a mommy kink

he fell for the way you take care of him,even if it's just your job.If you do nice things like checking up on him even when you two aren't working it results into fuelling his delusions

because of his feelings he's a literal ticking bomb,wanting to spend as much time with you as he can but in the same time to stay as far away to not make a fool of himself

you cannot please him.He will literally want to crawl into your skin and head to know exactly what you're thinking 100% of the time.

at times,he knows he's wrong.He knows he's unhealthy,but he cannot give up on you now that you're stuck with him.His fights with Masky will get even more violent,resulting in him being patched up by either EJ or you

he will also fake bad moods,anxiety attacks and will even cut himself so that you pay attention to him.He can be a very good actor and knows how to manipulate his way into your arms

he takes out his sexual frustrations on his right hand tbh,thinking of like 100 scenarios under 5 minutes then repeating for half a night.Don't ask about his dark circles the next day,he will feel even more disgust towards himself than he feels already

whenever he's alone he acts like a horny teenager and whenever he's alone WITH YOU the scenario would go two ways: it's either complete silence with him acting all creepy and stealing glances in your direction or him acting even more creepier and being all over you.This results in two tic attacks,one worse than the other

I feel like Brian would be his biggest problem in order to get to you.He gets very clingy whenever the hooded man is around,and gives off the impression of being in control even tough he's in a constant state of anxiety

Masky is one son of a bitch.He will get all violent with you over every inconvenience and argument.

couldn't sleep last night?It's because of you.(I mean,it kinda is but still)

he has no power over you but desperately wants to.

makes nasty comments about your body whenever you're in a state of undress or if you wear clothes that accentuate your body shape.The comments might vary from slut shaming to cat calling he insists are "compliments" (he knows they are disrespectful,he does it on purpose to piss you off)

as long as your attention is on him he can sleep well at night.

this is how he started.You never gave in the fear nor the disrespect coming from him.Sure,you had your meltdowns,but he found your strength endearing ,he wanted to break you

he's sure you'll grow up on him.He counts on Tim to woo you with his gentlemanly behaviour,but he's just as mentally fucked as his other side.

Masky wants to own you.He daydreams of doing atrocious things to you while you either cry or praise him.He's one sick man,and he knows it.

at the same time,a small part of him wants you to fuck him and that big mouth of his.The only between is Tim,who wants to be by your side and to protect you from the other animals in the mansion

his fights with Toby get intense,but also longer than usual.If he loses in front of you he would have a bad day for the rest of the week tbh

arguments with Brian might also result in fights,but his friend has a way of slipping out of them since he knows you're the reason for his sudden increase of hormones

as I previously mentioned,on the rare occasion you might work with the other creeps,Masky would start to be a little fuck and make assumptions to whoever stayed in your presence for far too long,might also result in violence if said creep happens to be male.

Brian is way more manipulative than Toby when he needs to be,he laid eyes on you the first time you arrived there.

altough he's one tall boi,he blends well into his surroundings,that gives him the advantage to watch your every single move and to analyse your behaviour

you're fascinating to him,you're fearless yet you're sickly sweet.From your rare smile to the way your hair sticks to your forehead during long training sessions,he found himself way too attracted to you

couldn't care less about that prick nor anger issues in a person,he could simply get what he wants during a matter of time

he finds Toby pathetic but takes pity on him,and finds Tim irritating from to time to time,but more in a sibling type of way,he would be up for sharing tbh

he respects his work so he respects you as well,altough he won't take your side whenever Masky starts to insult you,no,he wants to see your reaction,the way you carry yourself

he sees you as his equal in the line of work,but has moments when he looks down on you,sometimes he's sure you won't last long in such a cruel world

Hoodie is the rival of no one,in terms of looks and strength he's intimidating,he could beat his teammates if they would ask for a fight,but he thrives off of mind games

Masky pissed you off?you can trash talk him to Brian.Toby made you uncomfortable?That's okay,he's here to listen!

he will be your shoulder to cry on,and he really listens to you without the need to mansplain or to invalidate your feelings.He has a way with women

he's unapologetic for the times he closed his eyes and pretended you're whimpering on his lap

Hoodie can act cold towards you whenever he wants your attention,he can be all touchy fuzzy for a day then the next day to treat you like you're no longer friends.Keeps you in hot-cold games to test your limits and to keep you interested in him

he can also be a little shit and to give others a side smirk whenever you choose him to partner up someplace

you got yourself in quite the situation. Good luck getting out! The woods are a dangerous place,so leave no marks behind as you run,some might enjoy the chase~

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godshitgirl · 11 days

Text

In a dominant mood so here's how I think bsd men would act as subs

Atsushi

Would be a very obedient sub

Trusts you in every way imaginable

You know how parents tell you "well if your friend told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"??

Yea that's him

If you told him to do something stupid or dangerous whether in the bedroom or not he would immediately trust that you have a plan behind it (even if you actually don't, he doesn't know that)

Other than that, he's very anxious when it comes to PDA, at least at first

But once he gets used to it, and by that I mean used to the feeling of being loved, then he will slowly start warming up to and even asking for it

When it comes to sex, he can be even more bashful and awkward about it

He mostly whimpers and whines and it's not super loud, but if it does get to that point he's very self aware and scared of others hearing him, so he covers his mouth right away

I think he'd be most compatible with a more gentle top

He can't handle very heavy scenes and I can't imagine him having a very active libido

He has sex to express love and passion, not just for a quick fling that doesn't mean anything

Outside of the bedroom, he's very quiet about what goes on in there

Dazai likes to tease him about it and you love how his pale complexion turns into a pretty shade of red

Dazai

Oh this man is OBNOXIOUS

He's the type of sub that makes you wanna fuck him so hard he actually shuts the fuck up for a second

One of the brattiest of the bunch, for some reason has to turn anything and everything into a game of cat and mouse

Also one of the horniest, believe me you'll be drained DRY after like a week or so

This man's libido is UNMATCHED

He may be taller than you, smarter than you, and possibly stronger than you when it comes to his ability,

But in every other way you are in charge And some part of him always wants to challenge that

Loves to be paraded around like a showdog (but prefers the term "trophy wife")

He's a little princess and always gets what he wants

I think he'd fit best with a dom who could handle his.....special traits

He needs someone who won't get tired of him so quickly and leave, just like everyone else in his life did

But he also needs someone to put him in his place from time to time

Dealing with dazai isn't for the faint of heart, anyone who's done it before knows that

So maybe if you're strong enough, smart enough, and a little bit delusional and crazy, you could have this cute little former mafioso wrapped around your finger like a worm on a string <3

Fyodor

Tbh this one's the whole reason why I made this post in the first place😆

This one's also a little....different...from the others

And by that I mean he's worse

His brattiness doesn't come in the form of disobeying orders or having a fit in front of your friends

No, this one will purposefully pick you apart psychologically

Trying to get this man to behave will require a labyrinth of words, a battle of the minds

He needs someone who can challenge him, because if they don't, he wouldn't bother to be submissive towards them at all, they don't deserve it.

He's one half sickly and one half pride, so taking care of him isn't gonna be easy

Of course you'd have to know going in that Fyodor's self care is abysmal and as his dom you'd have to take responsibility for his health

Taking care of his pills, his diet, making sure he eats and sleeps on time, gets enough rest, drinks enough water, exercises, that's all on you from now on

But you do it cause you love him

Sometimes he'll be bratty and arrogant enough to take you for granted, and would snap at you and tell you he doesn't need someone to baby him when you just were trying to help

But after enough time, he'll realize he was wrong, and as his health depletes, he'll slowly start to inch towards you, asking for your help

You would make sure it gets to the point where he'd have to beg. Make him realize what it's truly like to not have you "distracting" him with your care and concern

And eventually, if he's put up a pathetic enough display for you, you'll hold him in your arms, warm chest comforting him as he leans his head and torso on it

You'll watch how he shivers each time he takes a breath, his eyes are glassy and staring at nothing, his hair is drowning in grease, and it's obvious he hadn't showered in days, but you don't mind

All of this means he's vulnerable, which means he's weak, which means he's malleable.

Malleable enough for you to mold into whatever you please.

Because the only person who could dominate the demon Fyodor is someone who could become the demon Fyodor.

Whether he knew it or not, you were just as sinister as he was, possibly even more.

And every breath he took was another foolish step into your web, a plan you had conducted just for him

So he can be as proud and smug as he wants, but at the end of the day,

You are in control.

Chuuya

It's kind of hard for me to decipher what kind of sub he'd be to be honest

I want to say he'd be a brat but that term doesn't seem to describe him exactly

Sure, he's got a lot of pride, so getting him to submit to you or even to simply let you take the wheel will be difficult.

He's too stuck in his old habits, too used to having to take care of everything, so being taken care of for a change will be a new feeling to him.

He's also scared to love you, scared to let himself bring another person into his heart, afraid of instead accidentally luring you to your death as he had done with so many others.

No, he's not ready to lose another person. Not again.

He's grown to see his love for others as a trap, a ploy, a misfortune. It was like a prophecy for someone's death.

But you, you were different from the rest.

You were strong. Strong enough to protect yourself, strong enough to stand your ground. In fact, you could probably even protect the gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara himself.

It took a long time for him to be ready. Ready to open himself up for you. But you let him take his time. You let him think things through. And despite everything, you were there.

You both sprouted a relationship neither of you thought you could do before

And the sex wasn't just sex to you two, no, it could be a distraction, a vacation, an escape, a break, an apology, you name it.

Sex would be a big part of you guys' relationship

I like to think that Chuuya is a lot hornier than he says he is, and also a lot more submissive

Learning that he was a sub was surprising for you, especially because of, well, everything about him

But that was cool for you, as you were vers, and you had to admit you loved the way he screamed and cried under you.

The look in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, even the small wounds he had gotten from biting his lips so hard to keep in a moan was adorable

Fucking in his penthouse was great because he had red lighting in almost every room, giving it a sexy, moody vibe.

It also reminded him of his place. He may be rich, he may be a mafia executive, and he may have a couple dozen people under his command, but no matter where or what he is, he will always be a pathetic little whore for you.

You fuck him in his room to remind him his riches mean nothing. He means nothing. All he is is a slut, and he must be reminded of that.

I think he'd be best compatible with a quieter personality to counter his loud one, but I think that loud, brash personality is most present around Dazai. Though he can have a little bit of a temper from time to time, even around you

He needs someone who doesn't care about status or ranks, Port mafia executive or not, you'll fuck him like there's no tomorrow and once you're done he'll be clinging to you like a lost little dog.

Ranpo

Brat. Brat Brat Brat. NOTHING about this boy is topping.

I mean, I do see him as a switch, but in this case, he's the brattiest brat to ever brat.

Will require you give him sweets and cold drinks whenever he asks, will make you drive him places, teach him things and even fuck him when he's too lazy to do the fucking.

He'll be obnoxious all day and then look at you like he's done nothing wrong his whole life. Spoiled little shit.

He's exactly the type of sub you would fuck into submission until you hear a sorry or any sort of appropriate apology.

He likes to be fucked lying down, sometimes sitting and leaning against something, but sometimes you'll force him to sit on you and ride you up and down even though you know he hates it. You'll never hear the end of it from him, though.

He likes to be fucked while eating, too. You'll fuck him from behind with a hand out and spoonfeeding him cake, and the rapid shaking of your bodies and the table he's up against will leave traces of cake all over his chin and cheeks. He doesn't know if he wants cake or if he wants you to eat his cake. Either way, he wants and needs you bad.

I think he'd be best fit with a top who would usually just give in to all his demands and would be patient with his bratty personality, but knows when it's been taken too far. You'd be calm and gentle with him, but come nighttime, you're a beast in bed, making sure he makes up for everything he did in the office that day.

He's not the type to apologize I don't think, he'd definitely beg if it's gotten too much for him but an apology? That's asking too much. Just take the moans and cries and leave.

However, right afterwards he'd go back to his usual bratty self no matter how bad the punishment was. In couldn't have been that harsh anyway, as you could never say no to Ranpo's cute face.

Akutagawa

When I say this man is a Virgin I mean he's a VIRGIN VIRGIN.

As in as virgin as the virgin mother mary

He hadn't even had time for sex before you came along.

You taught him everything, even things about his own body that he didn't even know. Like how he doesn't like the feeling of frotting because he doesn't like how another man's dick is on his own. Or how he likes when you pump his cock slowly, especially since he's so new to the game that he couldn't handle more even if he tried. Poor boy😔

He finds it odd, the feeling of being pampered. Being provided with food everyday, a warm place to live, constant affection, he didn't know what to do with it. It was as if he was an alien studying earth and experiencing the most mundane things for the first time.

And the weirdest thing about it was, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being taken care of, being provided for and pampered, and it was odd. He wasn't sure if he even deserved such wonderful feelings.

When it comes to sex, you better believe this man's got some weird shame thing related to sex

He sees it as a filthy task that he, unfortunately, likes to partake in.

He's ashamed even bringing it up, let alone asking for it.

But once you get the memo you take action and calmly and gently take care of him

Akutagawa's been used to violence, been used to screams of pain and agony, but this? It's soft. It's sweet. It's tender. He's not used to it but part of him wants to be. He's never been so happy in his life.

He's not the type to whine and whimper so much like Atsushi, instead he'll let out a low grunt here and there and maybe throw in a moan somewhere too.

He's into the wildest things, most of which involving your ability with his. It's probably some weird psychological thing where he's associated his ability strength = worth thing to the bedroom which......isn't healthy.

But once you're done his sickly little body is spent, his already damaged lungs trying desperately to keep moving. You hold him over your shoulder, as being carried bridal style would mess with his pride. Arm wrapped around your shoulder and tugging at you inner arm, he leans into you the way he's never done for anyone before.

He feels odd now, as if he's just discovered something new. Learning and even participating in sex has left him with many questions, that hopefully you could answer.

#bsd #bsd x reader #dom reader #sub character #sub and dom #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #atsushi nakajima #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #ranpo edogawa #x reader #fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

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