#she simply does not give a fuck about anything else and wants me to do the same

[nehts]

So fucking normal tonight. I'm realising that I could absolutely fool my beloved wife into seeing the Voryn ball post again because I sent her discord messages about another post entirely - so she has reason to check her tumblr DMs .

I won't. but the temptation is killing me right now

#Alternatively. I have POWER. I have her username/password for tumblr and although I love and treasure her + her friendship far too much- #-to EVER betray her trust in any way at all. to the point that thinking of doing this in a non-joking manner makes me want. die #BUT . #I do have her username and password for tumblr. and Azura give me the strength to continue on with the knowledge that I could . #I could do terrible things . awful things #1. Icon and header changes. to the weirdest things in history #2. Making a post on her blog about . so many different things . #SO much...... I'll never do it simply because. again. Her friendship and trust means more to me than ... anything else in this life. #Even if it's a joke. It's still trust that she willingly gave and just. knowing. that she trusts me enough to. #Have told me. have given me different things. etc etc. it's enough to make me feel a lot of emotion #All of it. I just... the sentiment alone. The overwhelming... love and safety that we share. it's too much to even joke about this with her #But. in a hypothetical situation where . I don't know. some weird universe that I did not feel all of this #It would be funny to imagine these things. etc etc. but . #Actually... legitimately without jokingly thinking about it makes me ill because of the betrayal of trust that it represents. #Is that too serious for the subject matter? maybe. But I just can't see it as a thing to. think about. in any manner more substantial than. #'Ha Ha What If ?' way...... thinking about how much trust she's shown me is making me feel things. goodbye......... #The fact that she's shared SO much with me........ throughout it all knowing so much about me. at times knowing me better than myself #Yet. trusting me all the same. it's ... so much. I talk about aspd/npd shit with her a lot and yet she does not see me as a monster but . #Somebody to love and trust and share good memories with. to spend time with. someone worthy of her time at all #AGH . I'm stopping typing this was meant to be a joke post but now I miss my wife . I miss my wife so fucking much #I miss my WIFE........ MY BELOVED WIFE.......... MY BEAUTIFUL MOST BELOVED WIFE 💔 gone forever... #A treasured wife that is forever lost - never to be seen again as she has gone off to war and will never be returning ... #<- She's sleeping and will be back in less than 8 hours . anyway #A wife that I loved so much yet is never to be in my life again… The memories that we shared cherished forever yet remaining mere memories… #It's less than 8 hours . despite how dramatic I'm being I'm fine genuinely. I just forget what I used to do with my time before her. #):

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

#I have no idea what to tag this. if you need me to tag it as something just tell me I guess

[a-hazbin-reader]

HII

Could you do some hcs of alastor with wife!reader who ABSO(LUTE)LY adores dogs? (alastor hates the dog with his entire life)

I mean...he kinda has a good reason not to be a dog person...

😡

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor Vs Doggo 🐶 Cannibalism, Vox getting owned by dog

Description: ☝️⬆️

Look, Alastor loves you deeply and would do anything for you, absolutely anything

Except let you have a dog

Absolutely not, he won't have a dog running around in his hotel and creating problems

He can already see it

The dog using the hotel as it's personal bathroom, gnawing on his hooves and ruining all the furniture

Humping everything in sight!!

You can have anything else, you can have Niffty! She makes a good pet don't you think?

No

How about Husk? He's basically a cat

"Fuck you!"

You want a dog, you even have one picked out already

You what? When did you even have time to go look at dogs? He's been purposefully keeping you busy anytime you mention one

The bite marks all over your body are evidence of it

Totally doesn't believe you're actually bringing home a dog until you do, then he's spitting out his tea

"Y/N, darling, what is that?"

"A smoothie."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh this? Our new dog, isn't he cute?"

You can't have a dog in the hotel-

Charlie and everyone else already agreed to it, even Husk said yes just to piss off Alastor

So everyone is on your side and you'll have adequate help, Alastor won't hardly ever even notice the dog

Except he does notice the dog, like all the time

The damned beast is always trying to hop up next to him, only to be shoved off by Alastor

"No furry beasts on the furniture~ The hair is a nightmare to clean up. Disgusting really..."

Not Husk and Angel giving him dirty looks for that one

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to sit next to him, it simply settles for resting by his feet

At least it makes a decent footrest

Or the dog is always hogging your attention, sitting in your lap, laying with you in bed, following you around

How is a man supposed to sleep with his wife when there's some mutt in his spot???

You've caught Alastor glaring at your dog a few times, especially when you're giving him scratches and pets

He wants to be the one to hog your lap and be pampered by you, maybe you could even try giving him a belly rub or two

It certainly looks appealing

Alastor at least thinks he can get time alone with you outside of the hotel but nope, you insist on taking the dog with you

"He needs the fresh air and exercise, Alastor!"

But your husband needs some alone time with you! He's not being dramatic!

Or he's trying to enjoy his breakfast?? Guess who's paws are on the table, begging and slobbering over the idea of a bite

"Absolutely not, you can just forget abou-HEY!"

Looks like his breakfast now belongs to the dog

You definitely make him another breakfast and apologize over and over again

Kiss him and sit in his lap, then maybe he'll consider forgiving you~

Sometimes, when you're sleeping, Alastor and the dog will be locked into a staring match

"I don't like you."

Whine

Rosie tries to sell him on the idea of just maybe liking this one dog, even she's taken a liking to him apparently

Traitor

You make Alastor promise that he won't ever get rid of the dog, OR EAT HIM, OR HURT HIM

And he can't break a promise he made to his darling wife

But he hates this fucking dog with a passion so when the dog suddenly gets out one day? He's perfectly content to let him run off

Until he realizes how upset you would be that your beloved pooch is gone and that gives him pause

Fffffffffuck

Not him spending all day trying to find a dog he doesn't even like, asking everyone if they've seen him

Nope, no, sorry no, ect

Just when Alastor has just about given up and started to contemplate trying to replace the mutt, he hears a familiar yell

"IS THIS DOG FUCKING PISSING ON ME!?"

Vox

Following the sound, Alastor is greeted with the sight of your dog running circles around Vox, who's standing in a puddle with wet pants

For some reason, the delightful mutt has taken to terrorizing him, biting at his limbs only to jump just out of reach of Vox's claws

Maybe it's something he's picked up from Alastor, you certainly didn't teach the dog that

The sight is too funny for Alastor, who doesn't even try to stop the dog, only laughing maniacally

Maybe this mutt isn't so bad

Later, when he comes home with the dog, you notice they seem much fonder of each other

Alastor goes and picks him out a fancy new leash, he starts giving him table scraps and he even invites the dog to be his footrest

Quit putting your feet on my dog

Stop giving the dog fingers!!

You catch him giving the pup a few scratches here and there, almost in an absent-minded manner

He starts calling the dog by his name instead of calling him beast, mutt, hound, monstrosity, ect

He even gives the dog his own room at the hotel with his own fluffy doggy bed

Okay, that last part might just be him wanting his marital bed back

We love dogs in this house!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[periprose]

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spider verse #spider man #spiderman #atsv #atsv x reader #hobie x reader #hobart brown #spider man x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spider verse spoilers #x reader #reader insert #female reader #hobie x you #spiderpunk fluff #spider punk fluff

[jaegerbby]

➳ triggered

--͙[ken ryuguji x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 12,944

╰┈➤ rundown; in all the years you've known draken, he has only loved one girl but that doesn't mean he'll let you be with someone else.

╰┈➤ caution; TOXIC DYNAMIC. possessive! toxic! draken, dubcon/coercion, fwb to something more?, parental character death, tw/emma (lol), manhandling, emotional manipulation, abusive undertones, threats with a gun, mentions of suicide, slight mitsuya x reader, alcohol mentioned, face fucking, oral sex (m&f), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, cervix fucking, belly bulge mentioned, baby trapping, impregnation, use of the word slut. draken is a literal head case in this. he gets mad when you call him draken (as he should?)

not proof read !

you almost drop your phone when the nurse tells you about your mother's condition. "ma'am, are you there?" your lips tremble, a hum leaving you because you do not trust yourself enough to speak.

"she's in room 34, level 12. you'll be further informed when you arrive." you swallow hard, feeling your chest tighten. "thank you." it is all you can manage to say before you end the call.

your relationship with your mother is strained to say the least but the thought of her bleeding out all alone makes you sick. the last memory she has of you is bitter words.

you hurriedly pull on jeans and a shirt draken left. his scent is enough to comfort you. you dial his number while running down the stairs of your apartment complex.

the cold air meets your skin and it seems all your impulsive actions are foolish.

"ken!" you are too emotional and you need him here. you can hardly keep yourself sane, every thought in your head is blaming you. you are not the best person, you know that but did you deserve something so cruel?

"what's wrong?" the sound of his deep voice alone, makes you relax. you grip the fabric of your his shirt. "my mom is in the hospital." your words come out in a flurry, jumbled and confusing.

you cannot quell the panic that fills you.

"hey, calm down." it is soothing, draken always knows what you need.

"breathe." you take deep breaths as he guides you, clutching your chest and nodding though he is not here to see. "now, tell me what happened. i'll come."

somehow, you feel lighter, "my mom's in the hospital... can you take me?"

"give me five. don't worry, okay?" you hum shakily as you slump on a bench and bury your face in your hands.

you sit there, cold and tired. you wish you could let yourself be consumed by sleep and this would be a bad dream.

that in the morning you would not have this guilt weighing on your shoulders.

the words 'five minutes' spiral in your thoughts because it certainly felt like hours. you fidget before messaging him. one after the next, asking where he is, if he is coming, why he lied.

though, it is left unanswered. he does not reply much less open it. your lips tremble, squeezing your fists so tightly you almost break skin.

you do not want to cry but it is all getting to you. as much as you fight it, you break.

loudly sobbing, roughly drying your face but it is coated with fresh tears a second after.

you keep telling yourself that he will come. you conjure up some stupid excuse for him because he never does it himself. it is times like this where you wonder if anything he said was genuine.

you need him here and he let you down. you should have expected it, he did it before. for someone who was more important that you, who would always be more important than you.

"yn?" you are sure you look horrible with blood shot eyes and messy hair. you are not able to move, simply staring as mitsuya parks his bike.

he is so kind, you do not deserve it. he hurriedly steps towards you, his eyes softening when a fresh stream of tears slip down your face.

"are you okay?" he tugs off his jacket, wrapping it around you before he kneels down and grips your hands. he immediately rubs them with his.

he tries to make you warm but all you feel is cold.

you should not ask, you are hurt enough but it is on the tip of your tongue.

it slips.

"where's ken?" you mumble when he guides you to stand. your eyes staring up at him, wide and tear filled.

"draken? he's with emma," it hits you like a freight train and it hurts more because you knew. you got the answer you were expecting but your chest still aches.

mitsuya's large palms cup your cheeks, swiping at the tears. his face coated in worry, "why are you crying?"

"my mom's in the hospital. can you take me? please." you are cut off when he tugs you against him. gentle as he strokes your hair and tries to ease your pain.

you sob into his chest, every part of you feels broken. your fists tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt and you press against him more. it should be draken.

you hate how desperately you wish he was holding you instead.

"i will, don't cry." he mutters into your hair, squeezing you before he lets you go. his fingers lace with yours as he guides you to his bike.

your head is filled with tumultuous excuses, anything to make you believe ken has a good reason.

he does not, he never did. not a word leaves you as mitsuya drives. even though your hands grip his clothes, desperately searching for something to keep yourself afloat.

when you are at the hospital, you feel like you are out of your body.

"i'll wait for you outside," mitsuya says, releasing your shoulders, having taken you to the room. the sight of your mother laying in bed unconscious, countless tubes and machines connected to her.

you fall to your knees, begging, pleading for her to get up. she is all you have left and you hardly see her.

you grasp her hand, you were seldom given that opportunity before. she is as cold as it is outside, maybe the weather was preparing you to feel her skin.

she is as cold as she acted to you your whole life and yet you cry for her to wake up. scream that she would at least open her eyes and tell you to stop your whining. she does not.

your heart breaks for the second time that night.

---

ken <3: come over

yn: not in the mood rn

ken <3: i just want you here

you thought he would at least apologise but when has draken ever?

he does not acknowledge it, he moves on like you mean nothing. like your feelings are none of his concern.

you were friends before this.

all this arrangement showed was how little he valued you. you know he loves emma and you know he is just fucking you. he would never feel more. not when it comes to you

you always see the hearts in his eyes whenever emma comes around, sometimes you wish he would look at you that way. others, you wish you never got involved with him in the first place.

it is so easy to be swayed when it comes to him. it is almost embarrassing how easily he can get you to give in.

you tell yourself you will leave the sorrow for the morning and you find yourself at his apartment.

you hate the way he smiles when he opens the door for you.

you hate how good he looks in that stupid tank top that is fitted to his body like a second skin.

you hate how he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your cheek like he did not break your heart just last week.

you shrug him off, pulling the thin jacket from your shoulders and sitting on the couch.

"why'd you cook so much?" you mutter, watching him huff as he drops down next to you. you wish you could move away because he is too close.

he is in your space. his thigh is against yours. when it comes to draken, you are too weak and you have long known it would be your downfall.

"i know you haven't been eating." he scoops some of the rice and lifts the spoon to your mouth. you wish your heart did not flutter, that he was not able to break you down and build you up with such little fanfare.

you let him feed you, silently hurting at his smile. how it reveals his sharp k9s and that stupid chip in his front tooth that he got when you were kids play fighting.

you reach for the bowl and draken's expression falters. he swallows before running a hand through his dark hair. all he does is watch you eat, he tries to make conversation but your answers are brief. you wish he tried harder, that he tried when you needed him.

there is no excuse to give when you are finished eating. you are about to stand when draken stops you.

your body still responds to his touch, jitters wash over your skin. he always has some effect on you.

"you've been avoiding me. you know i don't like that," he is annoyed, it is eerie how calm he is physically when his voice sounds so threatening.

he does not have any right to be mad at you. your face sets in a scowl, "well, i don't like being lied to." you should not provoke him and from the way his jaw clenches, you can tell you are treading on dangerous territory.

"what?" his head tilts. you did not want to fight with him, you never fought with him for years.

there are so many things you let him get away with but it was never this deep. it never hurt you this badly. you have gone too far to stop now.

"you lied to me," you should have been done with him from that night on but when have you ever been able to leave draken alone? you are upset yet you are here, in his apartment looking him dead in his eyes and for the first time he looks angry with you.

"it's been a week, why are you still mad?" he has never looked at you with such an expression before. not with such narrow eyes or such a piercing glare.

"because you told me you'd come! you said you'd be there." your body feels hot with anger as you stand. "you said not to worry. well guess what, my mom isn't here anymore. you were right, one less thing to worry about."

your blood is boiling. for the first time his presence does not calm your nerves. instead, the longer you stare at him, the more infuriated you feel.

"don't blame me, you never got along with her when she was around. i didn't cause that." his lips pull back, he roughly grips your arm as he leans down to level your gaze.

"it's my fault because i waited for you. you always disappoint me but i waited for you." your finger presses into his chest. it is accusatory because the one behind your broken heart is at the end of your nail.

"you're being dramatic." he scoffs, tongue in his cheek while he looks away from you.

"am i? you're the one who said you'd come for me but what happened?" you shove at his shoulder when he rolls his eyes and remains silent. "what happened, draken?" the glare he sends you is deadly.

"did emma call? did you forget all about me the second she called your name? did you run to her when i'm the one that needed you?"

he breathes hard, you swear you see steam coming from him. he grips your upper arms and roughly shakes you.

"yes, you fucking know that so why do you keep asking?" he says it despite all the years you have known each other, regardless of any moment you have together. like all of it is insignificant.

it stuns you for a minute. you knew, yet it still makes your heart ache to hear him say it. you lose your composure entirely for that minute.

he loves emma and you are just a girl he fucks on the side. draken does not care for you any more than he needs to, emma is always going to be his priority.

you did not hold a candle to her flame. no matter how much you dream about it, you do not think you ever would. you grit your teeth, pushing his arms away and stumbling back.

"don't look at me like that," he sighs. his hands swipe over his face before they settle in his hair and he grips at the roots. he is incredibly conflicted, it is typical for him to draw you into his arms when that expression is on your face. though he has never been the reason behind it before.

your ears feel like they are ringing, you are struggling to hold back the tears that fill your eyes. you hate him, you wish you did. hating him is momentary, it is fleeting. your hate never lasts.

"you're a fucking asshole and i hate you." all you both want from this moment is to hurt each other.

"yeah right. say that the next time you're sucking my dick." he sneers. your eyes flicker, face contorting in disgust.

you feel sick. you wonder why you are still here. you truly do not want to throw away all those years you spent by his side. but what good is there fighting for something that can never be?

you hurriedly gather your things with one fleeting glance over his living room.

you swear this is the last time you will be here.

maybe one last grace is what you need to get over him.

draken breathes heavily, holding your wrist as he tries to bring you into his arms. for the first time you fight it, that is all it would take to break your resolve.

"fuck off!" he stares at you in shock. those pretty eyes are blow wide, you never shout at him. "God knows what was going through my mind when i agree to fuck someone like you."

you shove at his chest but it does not move him in the slightest. all it does is relight his anger.

he nears you despite how many times you try to distance yourself. "i don't need you. you think it would make a difference if you left?" cause at the end of it, you know emma is the only one that matters to him.

every word is clear, he enunciates it all because he wants you to be in pain, he wants you to go home and cry over him like you always do.

your whole body tenses, teeth grinding together because you can practically feel the ache in your chest grow more intense. you can feel your heart tear apart. why do you always get hurt in the end?

"fuck you, draken." that is the last thing you say, maybe it is synonymous for 'it's over' but you have never truly been done with him.

you push past him and it is only so easy because he lets you. he lets you leave, you wish he would stop you. you are stupidly hoping he will pull you back to him and tell you he is sorry.

unbeknownst to him the tears are already falling down your cheeks as you storm out of his apartment and slam the door. it feels like you are suffocating, like a second longer in that hell hole would asphyxiate you to death.

you cannot stand the thought of being around him right now yet you know if he apologises you will fall back into his arms.

you feel like throwing up all the food you ate. you feel like he ripped your heart from your chest and tore it to pieces. you flinch at the sound of him cussing, broken glass and stomping emanate from behind the door.

the closer it gets, the more your heart aches. you do not want to see him, you do not think you can handle being near him right now.

your breath shakes as you turn on your heel and run towards the staircase. you desperately needed to be anywhere but here.

--

you stare at the door while your heart is in your throat.

"baby, open up." he bangs on it and you sit curled up on the couch wondering if seeing him is worth the pain that will follow.

tears stream down your face when you shut your eyes. "are you seriously not going to let me in?" he raises his voice, roughly twisting the knob and sucking his teeth. he huffs in exasperation.

"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, just open the fucking door." draken speaks lowly. he does not want to alert the people in your apartment complex.

you are stupid.

for him at least because you do as he says.

you barely turn the lock and he forces it open. you see him and all you remember are the things he said last night.

"fuck, how much did you cry?" his thumb strokes beneath your swollen eyes.

you shove his hand away, "why are you here?"

"c'mon, baby, don't be like that." he always ruins you like this. when you try to get away all he does is bring you back.

and you go.

you go because draken fills your heart and no one compares to him. you have known him for far too long to ever let go.

his large palm cups your waist to guide you a few steps back and he shuts the door. he tugs his jacket off, placing it on the hook like that is his designated place.

like he belongs here.

"i wanted to see you." he draws closer. "i needed to see my girl." the tears come again. perhaps they never ceased. you are not his girl. not when he already has one.

"you've seen me, you can get out now." you should know better.

but you do not know when to leave and draken does not know when to let go. he tugs you in.

you hate to be near him as much as you love it. he holds you flush against him, tilting your head back to keep you looking at him. he is horrible. "you get so mad over nothing." you wish you could hate him.

despite you struggling against him, he is unmoved. just like he always is.

"you're so pretty." his plush lips spread in a heart quickening smile. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, hoping and wishing him away although you are unable to push him back.

"stop imagining emma." he looks almost irritated when you say it.

"don't be stupid." he has to bend down to press his lips to yours. they are soft, like cotton candy fluff. it takes everything in you to not reciprocate as he kisses you without relent. though you are not responsive he sucks down on your bottom lip, nipping the flesh as he pulls away.

"you don't want to kiss me anymore?"

you shake your head and hurt crosses his face. his jaw clenches but desperation is written in his eyes.

"i want you to leave, draken." he flinches, a scowl on his face but he lets you go and you stumble back.

"i make you a little mad and suddenly i'm draken to you?"

"you don't get it, this is done. whatever this was."

he comes closer, at least he tries to. when you back away he seems stunned. "no it's not." you wish he did not know it so well that you are a fool for him.

"baby, what do you want to hear?" he grips your wrists to pull you in again.

"draken, it's done. i'm done, okay? i'm tired." you sob. you want to press your face to his chest and weep your pain away but he is the cause. he is the reason for it all but he is the only one you want comfort from.

"if you're tired, let's sleep. we're not done." he brings you to his chest, presses wet kisses to your cheek like he is not breaking you. "you want me to say sorry? i'm sorry. see, it's better now."

"it's not. just leave. gosh, just get out, draken." you shove at his chest but you swear a part of you dies when he lets you go.

"you want me to get out? fine. when you're done throwing this stupid tantrum and you come running back, i won't listen." his face is covered with anger.

he turns his back, the further he walks away, the more suffocated you feel.

he hears you crying.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

it is gut wrenching and heart shattering.

whether you see it or not, draken is crying too.

---

if draken does not hurt someone, he surely is going to break something. he can feel the glass straining under his fingers. he grips it tighter the longer he sees you with mitsuya.

you are here, looking like the prettiest doll in the world and you are not with him.

you are in blue, the dress clings to your perfect body and a ribbon is laced around your ponytail.

you are wearing blue and so is he.

truthfully, you and draken can never get rid of each other.

he sees you sipping on some fruity cocktail because that is all you ever drink. he loves looking at you, he always looks at you but he can see mitsuya too.

he can see how he leans closer to you, how his smile only grows wider when you laugh at something he says. he can see mitsuya draping his arm around your seat and being so attentive when draken knows he is the only one that should be around you.

why are you letting mitsuya so close to you? you were with draken for a long time, he was the only one right?

he only fumes more when mikey, emma and just about everyone around him agrees that you and mitsuya would make a good couple.

he sees red.

your eyes flicker to draken despite your attempts to ignore him. his hair is draped to a little below his shoulders, his shirt is fitted and from here you can see the rings on his fingers.

you see all those things, you see ripped jeans and black boots. you see emma practically sitting on his lap. you do not care.

you do.

you came to the conclusion that he is not willing to put her in danger.

but he is willing to be a danger to you and your heart.

"is it okay if i touch you?" mitsuya's hand hovers over your waist. you nod while sipping your drink. "you can say no." he quickly follows.

"i don't mind."

he sends you a smile and his hand softly caresses your waist.

"are you doing better? if you need to talk, i'm here for you." he is sweet, he has always been. mitsuya has never been a bad friend to you.

"thanks." you down the rest of your drink before turning to face him. "i'll be fine someday." your head screams at you for lying. draken is here and he is not with you. he is with someone else.

he has always been with someone else.

"i know things have been hard since." he pauses, his hand grasps yours. "since everything but i'd still like to see you. you can still come around like you used to."

his palms are so soft, draken's are not. draken's hands have callouses, they are rough and for some reason they feel like they were meant to touch you.

you consider mitsuya, he is your friend. your eyes glimpse over his features. his thumb strokes your hand and you have just begun to appreciate the feeling of someone other than draken when it is ripped away.

the one holding your wrist feels right even though it hurts.

draken towers above you, he sends mitsuya a stony look before he pulls you up and his hand squeezes your waist.

like he wants to overwrite any other person. like he needs to reclaim the places that are only meant for him and not for another man to touch.

you melt. you thaw like ice and turn into liquid. draken pulls you alongside him and you follow.

you have to take quick steps because his are much larger than yours.

once you are outside of the club, the silence is a stark contrast to the loud music. draken breathes heavily, brushing his hair back.

"were you fucking him?" you flinch when the words come out. that was the last thing you expect him to say.

"i'm not dealing with this, draken." you shake your head but he grips your waist. he holds your body and gathers you in his arms like he always does.

"stop treating me like a stranger." his voice strains. "tell me if you were fucking him on the side."

"you're terrible." tears prick your eyes. he has the audacity to accuse you when he has never been yours. he never gave himself to you.

"you did? was he your back up if i ever stepped out?" his fingers squeeze hard enough to bruise. "i never stepped out on you, not once."

"no, draken. i'm not like you." he is destroying you. whether he knows it or not. you are sure he knows it though because draken knows you better than anyone else.

"then why were you with him, why did you let him touch you?" you try to push him away, you really do. all you want is to lay in his arms and all he does is argue with you.

"who are you to ask me that? we're done, remember?" he grits his teeth, burying his head into your neck. draken breathes in your scent and lets it intoxicate him. you intoxicate him.

"we're never going to be over, baby. not you and me." he kisses at your exposed skin. it makes you want to cry more than you already are.

"you have emma." your voice trembles. you tremble. you feel like you are a tower of cards and you are about to collapse entirely.

draken leans back to meet your eyes, his gaze trails over the tears in your pretty eyes and the pout on your lips. his nose nudges yours and then he kisses you.

he kisses you and you feel him everywhere, all at once. you feel him in his palms gliding down your body. you feel him where his tongue claims your mouth all over again. in the spit that is messily exchanged as he sloppily kisses you.

you feel your blood growing hot enough to warm you completely. he pulls away to repeatedly peck your cheek.

"let me go." you brokenly whisper.

"we're going home, okay? i'm taking you home cause you're my girl."

---

when draken gets you into his apartment, he pulls you flush against him. his hands coax over every curve of your body. "i missed you," his nose nuzzles your cheek and you tense under his touch.

it is difficult to be mad at him and being this close is only breaking your resolve further. you push at his chest but all he does is tighten his hold until you can feel the hard, defined muscle of his abdomen.

he is too tempting.

he laughs though it is not very amused. his large palms, grip your waist before they drift to the hem of your dress and slip beneath it. "you're all dressed up and it isn't for me."

"it's not like that." you cannot protest much because draken grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the angle he tilts your head at is incredibly uncomfortable.

"it is, you got this pretty for him." your eyes roll, an annoyed noise leaving you. it did not make sense to dispute it, not when he already came to some conclusion in his head.

his hands cup your face, the thick of his thumb swiping over your lips, smearing the lipstick. "your makeup looks so pretty." his tone of his voice is indecipherable. you cannot seem to understand him these days. you barely have the will to try.

draken cannot stand the idea of you thinking about another man. it does not sit right with him that you got this pretty and went out with someone else.

draken does not need you to do all this for his eyes to be on you. he leans closer and you do not resist, you cannot.

not when his hooded eyes meet yours and your lips brush together. you need affection, his affection. you can not deny that no matter how hard you try to.

his tongue slips out to wet his lips before he tilts his head and kisses you. it is rough, it is desperate, it does not make sense. why does he kiss you like this when he does not love you at all?

he hums into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to brush over everywhere he has already been. places he always comes back to.

your hands bunch his shirt, eyes squeezing shut because you regret it but you still kiss him with the same burning need.

you pull away breathless, turning from him because it is obvious you are not done like you said you were.

"fuck," draken rasps, leaning in again to suck at your bottom lip. his cock pulses at the way you whine. he wipes at the saliva with his thumb before pressing it against your tongue.

"wanna fuck your mouth." you swallow hard, eyes fluttering. you should not, you know you should not but just this? you just need this much and you will leave.

"gonna be a good baby and let me?" the depth of his voice makes a shiver travel down your spine. how can you refuse when he talks like that?

draken never needs much to sway you, regardless of how stubborn you act. you grip his wrist, pushing it away and he is about to grab you right back when your smaller palms trail down his chest.

the corners of his mouth pull up, "there's my girl." it is drawn out and all too smug. his tongue swipes over his teeth like he finally got what he was waiting for.

your fingers dip into the rivets of his chest and abs. he is all hard muscle where you are soft. you slowly situate yourself on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs.

you are eye level with his erection that was straining in his pants since the moment he laid his eyes on you. he is still smiling, he missed the sight of you between his legs.

each and every time he got to see you look up at him like this, it plagued his mind. you keep watching as his dexterous fingers flex, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zip.

"fuck," his hands fidget, his whole body seems to be vibrating. he tugs his shirt up, his deep v-line framed by the waistband of his boxers is revealed to you.

"did you miss it?" he stares at you the second he pushes down his pants enough to let his cock out. it looks painfully hard. it is slightly curved, just the sight of it makes your insides ache.

he is too big.

draken is bordering on perfect. maybe that is why he is such an asshole. your finger swipes over his slit, pre oozing in thick droplets. your eyes trail from the swollen brownish head to the veins that trailed along the underside.

"i did." your confession comes out breathy, thighs clenching together almost on instinct. he hums, holding his length at the base, breath hitching at the sudden contact.

he presses the tip to your lips, the glossy finish of his pre looks better on you than that stupid lipstick. "open," he sighs quietly, focused on the sticky strands of your spit and the way your tongue squirms under the weight of his cock.

"fuck." his lip pulls back in a grin, he is pretty, especially when he has that expression on his face. your mouth encloses the bulbous part, your slick muscle laves around his slit and a low moan reverberates through ken's chest.

your mouth is too warm, too wet. it feels too good around him. the silky walls of your cheeks and the way your tongue always seems to be heated. how could you expect him to not be addicted?

you pull off, saliva dripping down his length and staining your face. you always got so messy, draken's jaw slackens when you run your tongue along his length before taking him back into the wet haven of your mouth.

you sink down on him and tears prick at your eyes because it is so much. your hand grips what you cannot fit before removing your mouth with a sniffle.

he is in awe at how little your hand always looks when it is grasping him. how much softer it is than his, how it struggles to wrap around him properly.

you jerk up and down his length, swallowing hard. there is an excessive amount of saliva in your mouth. you look up at him and he cups your face. your lips come around his cock, gradually hollowing your cheeks to take him more. the salty taste of his pre is in your mouth, somehow you missed it.

half of his cock is within the confines of your mouth and it seems draken was waiting until you could not retort.

"i hope you can still take me... or maybe you got used to less." his jaw locks, the thought of mitsuya getting his claws into you makes ken sick. your eyes flick up to his, streams of tears down your face. your lipstick all smeared.

ken wants it stained around the base of his cock if he is honest.

maybe then you would know it is only for him. his hand tangles into your hair, gripping the roots as a deep groan escapes him. he watches his length disappear past your lips, the walls of your throat fluttering around him, pulsing.

all the muscles squeezing his length make his hips stutter. perspiration coats his skin and his adam's apple bobs with each of his gasps as he sinks more of his cock past your lips.

it takes a while before your cute nose is pressed to his abdomen, nuzzling the short hair. he sighs, the silky walls of your tight throat are wrapped around him like it is only his to claim.

he lets you get used to it, holding you to his base whilst your tongue wriggles beneath his cock and the heat of your mouth covers him entirely. your hands tightly grip the fabric at his thighs, eyes fluttering continuously before they finally stare up at him.

almost like you are waiting for him to use you. he thinks your eyes should not look that wide nor that innocent.

maybe it is because they never changed even as you have grown. as long as draken has known you, you have never had anyone. he wants to be your someone.

his free hand wraps around your neck, there is a prominent bulge from his member and the feel of it beneath his fingers makes him shiver.

"bet you like having me in your throat like this." he practically whines. "fuck, m'agine you're choking on my dick like a slut." he anchors his hand in your hair before he slowly thrusts. he thinks the way your shoulders tense is too cute.

low moans leave him, he grows louder as his speed increases. he cannot leave you alone, not even if he wanted to.

he does not want to.

his head tilts back, he can feel your muscles moving along him, he can feel your tongue trembling at the underside.

your mouth is so slick with him it is easy to glide his length in and out of you. his abs strain, the veins on his abdomen appearing more. there is an impeding feeling inside him.

wet sounds fill the room as he fucks your mouth, the way he dreamed of during those days without you. he wants this back so badly.

he wants you.

tears freely coat your dewy skin. his thumb rubs at your neck, the bulge forming with each thrust pulses under his digit.

"does it hurt, baby? oh, fuck, getting your pretty throat rawed like this." you feel so, so good. the way you feel on him is inconceivable and indescribable. ken wants this forever.

his grip on your hair tightens as more pre cum is spewed into the back of your throat. he humps at your mouth, he cannot do without this, he cannot do without you.

draken's teeth grind, his breathing stuttering, the evident rise of his chest growing laboured all because he is using you. your lips look like they are straining, he can feel your breaths on him. the weight of your fist tugging his pants and pressing against him. he can definitely feel the need to cum approaching quicker than usual.

he is sure it will help with the soreness of your throat right now. ken wants to give you his cum and claim your mouth again.

"only thing you're swallowing is my dick and my cum" he hates the thought of it being anyone else. his head leans back, jaw dropped to moan.

he feels like he is losing his senses, he feels you all over him. his cock throbs in your mouth, slipping in and out of the perimeter of your slicked lips. "such a good fucking girl, feel so good." he bites down on his lip before hot air puffs from his mouth, his chest and shoulders tense.

draken's deep voice is cut by groans. he is there, he is so close. the warm wetness of your mouth, the drool leaking down your jaw, the tight grip of your throat stroking his length. he cannot take it much more.

he shoves himself completely into you, gripping your hair and caressing your face. he feels the muscles squeezing down on him because he is not supposed to be there.

he wipes the tears on your cheeks but it does not make a difference when everything is so messy. draken's hips stutter, his balls coated in saliva are leaning on your jaw.

you are too good. you are perfect.

his cock throbs, he is breathless and panting as his back tenses and an onslaught of cum is poured into your eager throat. there is so much it spews out of your mouth as you try your hardest to swallow it all.

"you're so good to me, baby." you take him so well, you always do.

he feels you swallowing the salty semen, he stills for a moment. the way your throat clenches on him is otherworldly. a tandem of curses leave him before he pulls you back by your hair and his cock slips from your tight throat.

it is obscene, how the mixture of cum and spit drips from your mouth and the sticky strands remain webbed to his cock. "holy fuck." he leans your head back, admiring the dazed look in your eyes.

he is panting, barely maintaining his composure. "you're so nasty, such a pretty cock slut, huh?" his lip tilts up as he says it. you only get like this for him.

his large palms reach down to lace his fingers with yours as he lifts you. his eyes glaze over your swollen lips and the tear streaks staining your cheeks.

he is quick to press his body onto yours and kiss you. it is way too sweet, especially since his taste is still tainting your mouth. he moans, tightly wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you harder.

his teeth hit yours and ken is pushing more into you. a deep hum reverberates through him as his tongue glides along yours. it has more wetness coating between your thighs. you wondered why he fit so perfectly with you when he was not made for you.

"don't show anyone else this pretty face, it's only for me." he huffs barely an inch away. he will not let you get on your knees for another man. not as long as he is alive.

his frivolous fingers grope your ass, tugging the fabric of your dress up. the roughness of his finger tips press against the wetness your pussy has leaked into your panties. his greedy touches are accompanied by wet kisses to your cheeks.

you wish you could resist him and you try, you really do. "draken, enough." your voice is weak and distant, you hold his wrists but you do not do anything to stop him. you want to distance yourself from him. you want to end this, right?

a scowl pulls over kens features, "don't call me that like you weren't just sucking my dick." nothing you do can get you away from him. draken is truly unshakeable even as you push at his built chest.

"i want to go home," you huff, shoving at him harder but all it does is make him grip you until you are hissing in pain. "no." you brows furrow at his refusal.

draken wants you to understand that you are home. he has been dropping signs for you to stay here for years. how dense are you? when will you understand that it is you and him against the world.

"we're either fucking or this is the last time you see me," you stare at him in faux disgust. like the thought of him repulses you because you desperately try to convince yourself of it.

you swallow hard. "i already told you, we're done."

he does not falter, not even a little.

instead he reels you in closer. his harsh touches are gentler now, tracing your cheek and dusting over your lips. his eyes are so intense as he glimpses over your features. he is not holding you to him, not anymore.

you can pull away, you can leave so why don't you? something about draken enamours you until you lose cognisance.

"you don't really want that. you don't want me to go away." his voice is like temptation incarnate. he strokes at your hair, brushing the stray strands back.

perhaps, you are too far gone when it comes to him. he is all you have ever known, how can you leave him now?

he sees your bottom lip tremble at the thought and he is pulling you into his embrace. he tucks you under his chin, right against his heart. "it's okay." you cannot think much when all you can smell and feel is him. when you can still taste him on your tongue. "sleep with me and your ken won't ever leave."

he does not need a verbal response because the empty look in your eyes tells all. you are like a ditzy slut but you are his so he is okay with it.

draken scoops you up into his arms. something he usually does. your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt whilst he carries you.

everything about you is doll like, from your features to how easily he can do with you as he pleases. you are engulfed by his scent more, if that is even possible. he situates you on his sheets, where you have spent too many nights to count.

you stare at him with wide glassy eyes. what is it that you wanted to say? no? you wanted to say no.

you wanted to be done and you wanted him to leave you alone but the thought makes you nauseous. it makes your heart ache and your ears ring. you cannot fathom being without him.

when his large frame leans down to kiss you gently. when he is cupping your face and tilting your head to deepen it. you cannot say no, not when he is doing all the things you dreamed of.

he is so much bigger than you, in every way. his palms are large and he is covered in muscle. he is tall and intimidating.

he could hurt you. instead his touch coaxes over your waist before he laces his fingers with yours.

"you're so fucking gorgeous." he muses. draken straightens up, looking down at you nestled in his sheets. it is where you belong.

he thinks you look like an angel, one that is fresh out of heaven. your eyes do not leave him as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and swiftly tugs it over his head.

he flashes you a grin, his body flexing beneath your heavy gaze. you are admiring the scars on his skin, the sharpness of his abs and the definition of his biceps. why is he so perfect? why does he always look so stunning?

"like it?" you nod your head as he slips his thumbs into the rivets of his v line and tugs his jeans and boxers down.

he is bare when his knee digs into the mattress and he leans over you. "yeah? you like me?" his hand pets your hair, like you are a dumb puppy begging for praise. your cunts leaking from everything he does, you can feel the liquid dripping from your slit to your ass. "you love me. you do" draken groans.

you nod so eagerly, your throat feels constricted, you are so overwhelmed. everything he says is true. everything he does makes you want him more, love him more.

his strong arms wrap around you, the touch of his fingers on your spine makes you arch up. he is finally unzipping your dress after craving to do it for so long. he kisses your mouth softly, trailing down your neck and continuing over every inch of skin that is revealed as he tugs the fabric down.

draken settles on his knees, his hot breath hitting your breasts and wet, open mouthed kisses are left down your stomach. he huffs, his nose digging into your flesh as his hot tongue slips out. it presses into your abdomen, just above your cunt.

you grip the sheets, the sharpness of his dark eyes meet yours as the length of his tongue trails over your tummy.

there is so much tension in the air it is almost suffocating, you find yourself wishing his tongue was inside you already.

he leans back, thumbs hooking into your panties and stripping you bare of all your clothes. the slick between your legs is sticky to your panties, so soaked they are peeled away.

you swallow hard as draken's hands cup the back of your knees and spread you open for him.

"you have the prettiest cunt, i swear." he whistles. his eyes grow darker the longer he stares. he is entranced by how easy you are to wind up. "all you did was suck some cock and you're dripping." there is a hum deep in his chest.

you are left staring up at him dumbly as he admires you. you cannot formulate a coherent thought aside from him. he is the only thing in your head. your ken.

your body feels unbelievably warm, inside and out with all his fleeting touches. he leans down, your thighs propped on his shoulders as he gets closer to your slick cunt.

you feel like you are intoxicated somehow. maybe it is the alcohol but you only feel this high when he is the one touching you.

his middle and ring finger glide over your sopping entrance. a whine escapes you, fingers tightening in his sheets as he slips one of the lengthy digits inside you. he does not stop, not at all. it is relentlessly pressed all the way to his knuckle.

even as you whimper, even though your walls pulse around him. his eyes do not leave yours when the length of his tongue slips out. a thick glob of saliva slipping from the tip to your already messy cunt.

the pinkness of his lips enclose around your stiff clit. his tongue gliding along it as he sucks and the other coated finger is forcing its way inside.

he needs to stretch you out and fast. he needs you ready to take him. "ken!" it is high pitched, bordering on a whine. you grip his hair. you are already panting, already wanting more.

draken's free hand glides from your hip to grip your waist. he moans into your pussy, the vibration travelling through your entire being. his fingers pump into you with messy sounds. it is like you are sucking them in, as if you do not want to let him go.

wet squelches echo through the room, slick leaks from you and stains his digits.

"there's my girl, keep saying ken." his tongue prods your stilted bundle of nerves, sucking on it like he has done before.

he knows your body like the back of his hand. knows that every curl of his fingers within your dripping cunt has your hips stuttering and your back arching up.

he knows that his mouth on your clit makes your eyes water and your jaw hang open. knows that those moans are because he is hitting so deep inside, you cannot control yourself.

you are breathless when his fingers slip out and his mouth encloses your dripping slit. his tongue is pushed in entirely. you are squealing at the wet muscle that wriggles along your walls.

draken's eyes roll back at the taste of your cunt and he moans. he went without it, without you for too long. he does not think he can do it again.

he will not let himself be without you for that long ever again.

you cry his name, fingers gripping his hair for some semblance of self control. the tighter you hold, the harder he sucks on you.

draken feels like he could spend forever between your legs. like he could die happy if the last thing he tasted was you. his mouth has you drooling and cross eyed. it has your thighs trembling and you bite your lips so much they are raw.

ken is the only one who gets you like this, he is the only one who will ever get the opportunity. "feels good. so good. s'deep." you babble on and on and ken thinks it is the cutest.

he is lapping at your cunt like a man who is deprived of water. honestly, he is and he is upset with you. of course he is.

who did you think you were staying away from him?

he pulls back, slick coating his lips and covering his tongue. "wanna cum." you mewl and his brows raise. his fingers slip right back inside you, all at once. he does not miss a beat as he fucks them into you. "think you deserve it? you haven't been nice, babe." he presses his face to your plush thigh.

gazing up at your expression, you already look like you are fucked dumb. "m'sorry, sorry, ken. i'm sorry." you whimper, dainty fingers reaching for his hand to hold it.

you are such a baby.

what did you get by acting like this aside from making him obsessed with you?

it is such an adorable apology but you spent days away from him. he could hardly function, why did you think it was okay to do that to him? he is catching tears in your eyes, like crystals that are priceless. he sees your snotty nose and pouted lips.

he truly cannot let go of you.

his fingers quicken and your head hits the sheets, leaning back as your hips rock. "close, baby?" your head bobs quickly, "so closeee." your voice is all drawled and heavy with desire.

his mouth covers your cunt again, still fucking into you as your entire body heats up. your stomach feels like there are a million knots within it.

you are crying out his name so adorably, ken cannot help but grin a bit while he is making out with your pussy. your hand squeezes his, nails nicking his skin as you rock your hips against his face. the burning in your abdomen intensifies, only growing greater.

your thighs shift closer together but he is there to stop them, your back arches completely off the mattress when you reach that high. your mind feels white hot, vision going blurry because he does not stop even as you cum.

your tongue is practically lolling out as he laps at your cunt and your body vibrates from the feeling. high pitched moans fill the room all breathy and desperate.

your chest heaves, gripping ken's hand as you try to find your bearings. you can feel his breath hit your entrance, he does not make a move from where he is.

"those days you were ignorin' me." he pauses, his fingers dig into your thigh. you can feel him squeezing your hand tightly, it is not as gentle as it started.

"did you let him see you like this?" your eyes flutter, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. "i didn't sleep with him." you mumble, leaning into the softness of the pillows. your body feels exhausted already.

ken roughly pulls away from you, the sudden jolt shocks you but he is over you in a second. his hand grips your jaw, gaze narrowed. "don't lie." his voice is low in warning. it is hard to keep a straight face when cum is covering his lips and dripping down his face. it makes you flustered completely. his eyes stare into yours as though he is attempting to read your soul.

"m'not lying to you, ken." you shove at his chest but all draken does is grip both your wrists to tug your body down the bed.

he has your legs on either side of his waist and his cock's resting on your stomach. he can see where he will reach once he is inside. his hands caress your thighs, trailing to your hips that he grips lightly.

he leans down to claim your lips, your slick rubbing onto you and resting on your tongue. your body feels weak but your arms wrap around his neck and bring him closer. fingers wound in his hair as you kiss him more desperately, more lovingly. you wish he would believe you, when have you ever betrayed him?

his palm slips between your spread legs, prodding your entrance and you pull away from his mouth with a hiss. you are pushing at his forearm but ken does not approve at all, it is evident in his expression.

"ken, wait for a bit..." you are still unbearably sensitive. he does not see it that way, instead his head tilts, eyes so dark they seem black.

"did mitsuya loosen you up for me?" his tone is covered with anger, he feels sick to his stomach. he is being tortured by images of you and him. ken cannot take it, not at all.

your eyes widen at his words, stilling for a moment. "don't talk to me like i'm some slut." there is a frown tugging ken's lips down. you were doing so well, everything was going so well and now he is upset about things that never happened.

"you are, you were fucking him too." he grits out, jaw clenching tightly. the thought makes him want to throw up. it makes him want to hurt mitsuya for ever putting his hands on you.

"i didn't do that, ken. when did you stop trusting me?" your chest heaves, brows furrowed in dismay.

"since you started being a whore." your lip trembles, eyes filling with tears that burn. your throat feels like if you speak you will break down into tears.

you turn your head away from him, sniffles leaving you as you desperately fight tears. they still coat your cheeks like an endless waterfall.

you did not want to break down in front of him, you did not want him to see how easily he makes you cry. it is too late when you are in his room, on his bed with your heart ripped out of your chest and given to him. your body shakes with sobs, squeezing your lids shut.

"why do you always do this to me?" your voice is broken. the second his fingers stroke your face, you wonder why you always give him this power.

why do you let him him make you cry and break you down without consequence? "because i want you here." he breathes, his large palms encasing your breasts and rubbing at your nipples.

he kisses you even as you cry, even as you sob into his mouth but it is okay because you let him slip his tongue inside.

you are still okay with him biting on your bottom lip and kissing you like this. his touch trails down your stomach to your hips.

a sigh leaves him as he reaches for his hard erection, so much pre cum leaking from his swollen tip. he guides the head between your spread folds.

an excessive amount of slick coating him while he drags it along your opening. your pussy seems to miss him as much as you did because your treacherous body is growing hotter.

you both looking at where he breaches you, your breath catches at the thickness of his head is forced into your gummy walls. "real fuckin tight." ken whistles, his abs tenses because he is seconds away from fucking the entire thing into you.

your cunt is like nirvana, your insides squeeze down on him although he barely put the tip in.

"i missed you." he huffs, his fingers dig into the thick flesh of your thighs, his hips slowly surging forward and making you cry. "c'mon open up, relax for me." he thrusts again, your back arches up.

you whimper his name, ken loves the way you say it. his thumb swipes over the barely there lipstick on your mouth before he is pressing it inside.

your spit filled mouth encloses around the digit and ken grins. his eye brows knit together at the slick sound that comes from your pussy gripping him.

your silky walls are pulsing around him uncontrollably. ken wishes he could be inside you forever. he rolls your clit, your cunt gushing over his cock and he only fucks more of himself into you with each thrust.

your hand presses against ken's abdomen but he is so much stronger. he clicks his tongue. "don't try to run from it. y'know you can take it." his voice is so deep it's almost gravelly. your resistance is trembling.

"i can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, i know you want more" his thumb slips further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you gag. "i know you want to be stuffed full, you missed it, didn't you?" you nod dumbly.

he thinks you look pretty like this, swollen lips and messy hair. filled with cock and sucking on his thumb like you are made for it. you are, you are made for him.

it takes one particularly hard thrust before he is completely inside of you. his entire cock throbs alongs your pulsing walls, your body tenses because you feel so unbearably full.

you whine, you swear he is nudging your cervix. you can feel him in your stomach, you can see where the head of his cock has it bulging. you moan his name and all it does is make ken smile.

his girth stretches you out so much that it burns. you are left with your chest heaving as he pulls your leg onto his shoulder and he holds the other open.

he can see your cunt spread open around him, your pelvis is flush to his, your insides are holding him so tightly he feels like he can barely move.

his hips slam into you, your body jolts and your legs shake. he leans over, lifting you until your ass is off the bed and fucks you the way he was dying to in all the days you were not with him. "baby, baby, you're perfect" he pants. "got the sweetest cunt."

the lengthy locks of ivory hang on either side of his face, he looks too pretty. you are a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his large frame.

you press on the spot that distends your tummy with each pump of his hips. you both sigh at the feeling. ken is looking at where you are taking him between your legs, where his cock slips in and out completely doused in your juices.

you are met with the chain you got him. it hangs in your face and the anklet he got you is right next to his ear. in mockery, in proof, you are not quite sure.

when draken fucks you like this he wonders why it was so difficult for you to accept that you are his.

your fists find the soaked sheets, your body feels hot and sweat coats your skin. you feel like there is cotton in your head. tears stream down your cheeks and traces of saliva are on your lips. you are always so easily lost in him.

your eyes squeeze shut, he is pounding you into the sheets like you are a sex doll. ken is all you can feel, all you can think about. you sigh in contentment. you are hardly coherent.

"ken, you're so big." you mewl, his fingers dig into your skin, his nails pressing against the flesh.

"yeah? you missed me fucking you? missed having my cock deep in this pussy? pretty girl, all you think about is my dick." you whine and his voice is filled with amusement.

growing breathy the longer he is wrapped in your vice walls and covered in your viscous liquid.

he slams his hips to yours, each dragging you along his length. you can feel his skin sticky everywhere you are touching him.

your cream forms a white ring along the base of his cock and leaks down his balls. "messy." he clicks his tongue. your little body looks so precious under him.

you are taking a cock that is way too big for you but you take it so well.

you always do.

you can hardly think when he is shoving so deep inside that you swear he is bruising your cervix. a light clink and the coldness of metal on your forehead has your eyes opening in confusion.

"ken?" he does not stop moving. your body shakes and you writhe from his brutal ministrations. "you scared, baby?" he grins, his hand comes down to rest on your sternum and he leans over you more.

you are not scared, it should worry you that you are not scared in the slightest.

you trust him with your life.

even as he holds a gun to your head you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid of him.

it should worry you even more that the only thing that generates a reaction from you is him pressing the same gun to his temple.

you jerk.

"stop!" you cannot even reach for his hand when he is holding you down like this. you are so insanely confused.

a new influx of tears streaming from your eyes as your pleas fall on deaf ears. you wish he would stop being reckless.

"isn't that cute? now you care." he pauses his hips, your nails dig into his forearm but draken does not flinch.

he accuses you when he is the only thing you care about, the only thing you ever think of.

"i want to you to know, this is what will happen if you leave me again." your lips part in shock, his eyes are dark. so dark.

there is an overwhelming feeling of worry washing over you.

"ken, this is crazy." your voice cracks as you cry.

"is it?" you are painfully away that his cock is throbbing inside you. "it's crazy that you were running around with some other guy."

"i wasn't, i swear i wasn't."

"are you going to leave me, baby? that's all i need to know." his hand leaves your sternum to stroke your cheek. it is so gentle.

your heart feels like it has taken too much pain to work. "you don't want me." it hurts. it hurts but you know it is true.

drakens lips pulled back in a scowl. his expression is unreadable, he is unreadable. you never understand him.

he applies pressure to the trigger and nausea fills your senses. your scream bloody murder because you have to look at him hold a gun to his head but you cannot do anything. he does not allow you.

"promise you won't leave." he says and you cry, pleading endlessly. you cannot handle losing him in any capacity. you cannot lose him at all.

"m'sorry, please don't" your throat feels so tight, it hurts to speak. "i won't leave so please stop!" you hiccup, holding his hand and praying he can see the desperation in your eyes.

"say it again" his eyes grow hooded, like those words falling off your tongue are music to his ears. you only sob harder.

"i won't ever leave you. i promise i won't." you voice is hoarse and wavering. your eyes do not move from the metal barrel aimed at his head.

you are fretting in worry but ken looks glad. he looks delighted even. the flash of his teeth makes you swallow.

"and you love me?" his head tilts. "i do." you whisper. you have never told him that before.

how could you protect your heart if you were professing your love for him? right now it does not seem to matter.

"i love you, ken. always did." your voice is barely audible, you swear the pounding of your heart is louder than it.

"close your eyes." you shake your head, completely confused. you are terrified.

"do it if you love me." tears leak from your eyes because now you do not have a choice. you shake with sobs as you close your eyes.

"good girl, such a good girl. you're always so perfect for me." draken's body covers yours, his nose nuzzling your face and you cry harder when he kisses your skin.

"please, ken, please, please." your arms wrap around him, fingers finding purchase in his skin because you cannot see him.

"are you scared?" you nod your head with a broken whimper.

"please, ken, i love you. i need you." you cannot see the grin that crosses his face but draken is all too pleased.

his mouth meets your ear "i need you too." you feel an ounce of relief and then the shrill of a gun unloading makes you scream.

it is so loud you instantly feel sick. your entire body trembles, your scream aches your throat and shakes everything in the apartment.

your heart feels like it jumped out of your chest and you are expecting blood or a body but instead you hear draken's low laugh and your eyes open.

"don't leave again or it'll be a bullet." it seems he is finally satisfied. he drops the gun to the sheets and you shove it further away.

his palm cups your cheek and brings your attention back to him. he wipes at your tears, cooing at your miserable expression.

"you only have me to love. remember that." you cannot process his words. your chest is heavy, breathing stuttered by panic. still racked with sobs but you are reaching for him.

his large frame is tugged down over you, practically covering you completely. your leg is pressed closer to your chest. he is so warm, you can feel his skin and remind yourself that he is here.

he causes all your troubles yet he is the only person capable of comforting you. "relax." he coos but it only makes you cry harder.

your body trembles against him but all ken has to do is wrap his arms around you and your worries lessen. "please, never again." because you swear your heart will stop beating if he put a gun to his head for a second time.

he pacifies you with sweet caresses along your hair before he pulls back. he smiles when you whimper, drying your cheeks but they are freshly coated with new tears. you are touching at his skin frantically, anything to remind yourself that he is really with you.

"gonna let me fuck you like you deserve? since you were such a good girl." his eyes do not leave yours, he nods his head and you find yourself nodding along with him despite how far gone your mind is.

draken hums, leaning over you as your legs wrap around his toned waist. he smiles, swiping at your tears, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck.

your eyes flutter, breathing finally slowing but a gasp escapes your lips as his mouth encloses your nipple. you swallow hard, thighs tensing around him.

his eyes flick up to yours, face all too smug when his hips begin to rock. his teeth scrape the skin of your nipple, tongue flicking over it as he pulls away.

"like when i play with these cute tits of yours?" you are too flustered, way too dazed and dumb. your head leans away, why does he make you feel like this? his deep voice has your cunt leaking and your heart beating out of your chest.

"don't act shy, your pussy's squeezing me so hard, i know you like it." you do not have a chance to deal with the way his words have settled heat into your bones because his mouth encloses over your throat to leave more marks.

his thrusts are growing faster, rougher and you find yourself melting into a puddle, like dough you become whatever he wants.

you are only capable of moaning his name so prettily that draken's insides grow fuzzy. you are so good, too good. your hand slips into the lengthy strands of his hair.

"ken." you tug him closer, you wonder how much closer he can get than being deep enough to hit your cervix. you want him closer than his lips brushing against yours every time he fucks his hips into yours. you want him closer than the way your nipples are grazing his hard chest.

you want to crawl into his skin and make it your home.

you want him.

you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your tongue slipping into his mouth when you pull him down. you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, he is bruising your waist and hips.

spit coats your mouths like gloss. "ken, i love you, i love you." you never said it to him, regardless of the countless times you thought it when you looked at him.

hearing those words roll off your tongue almost makes draken cum instantly. you are finally able to say it and you want to take advantage of it.

"fuck. you're mine. not mitsuya's, not anyone else's." his cheeks are reddened, the sharpness of his thrusts makes your back arch off the sheets. his chest heaves, the brown of his eyes stare into yours "you're mine."

you nod because it is all you ever wanted. you say yes, you sign yourself over to him entirely. you would do it in this lifetime and every single one that came after.

you cannot think at all, your jaw hanging open, your nails digging into his skin. you can feel the sting against your thighs with every thrust. something about the way he crowds over you, so much bigger, covered in muscle makes your insides hotter.

it makes you burn with want and need. your legs wrap around his waist tighter. feeling ken's hand grip your throat. you want him in every way.

you want him to fuck you like this and kiss you sweetly later. you want draken more than you have ever wanted anything else. and draken wants you like that too.

"you're my girl, my slut," he huffs into your face and the whine that leaves you is atrocious. the feeling he stirs up inside you with just those words is insane.

"maybe if i knocked your pretty ass up, you'd stop acting so stupid" he slams his hips into yours, he thrust so hard that he opens up the inside of your gummy walls every time and hits so deep you lose yourself a little bit more.

all draken can think about is pouring load after load into your leaking hole and giving you his baby. all he wants is to pound inside of you until there is no doubt that you will be swollen with his seed.

"huh? if i gave you a baby to take care of, you wouldn't have time to get mad at me" you mewl, your nails dig into his skin. he leans down to messily kiss you. his spit feels sticky in your mouth, he kisses harder, his cock being fucked into you so roughly your head blanks.

"pussy feels so good inside. you're going to take it right? all for me? going to take my cum and keep it in this cute cunt?" you cry when he pounds particularly hard and you can feel every inch of him.

you bob your head in agreement although you have no clue what he says.

"ken i love you so much." you babble, tears leak down your face.

"yeah? i should give you something then, since you're so good. should stuff this tight little hole with so much cum. you want it, pretty baby?" draken flashes you a grin when you nod. your eyes flutter, he pounds his hips harder and harder.

his movements grow uneven, he groans into your face. pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. he loses himself in the feeling of your vice walls squeezing him.

"you'll make such a pretty mommy." his forehead meets yours, you whimper so adorably when you clamp down and your pretty cunt creams all over him.

even then draken does not give you a moment's rest.

he curses lowly, his hips press flush to yours, only pulling out partially before slamming roughly into you. your body writhes with oversensitivity. you claw at his flesh, crying softly.

when he cums you swear it burns. it paints every inch of your walls and the sticky strands of cum seem never ending. it pools in your cunt and seeps around the perimeter of his thick cock.

he is panting over you, his face buried in your neck and your fingers slip into his hair. you stroke it even as he remains inside you. even as ken wraps his arms tighter around you and he presses kisses to your throat. "don't leave." he whispers so softly into your skin that you would have missed it.

"i won't." you mumble back and he huffs a heavy sigh like the reassurance is everything he needs and more. his strong arms squeeze you, fingers taunt on your skin as he coddles you against him. your legs tighten around his waist and you really think that this is what bliss truly is.

he does not want to let you go, he does not want to leave you.

his mouth presses into yours, gently kissing you, he peppers kisses to your face before he leans back. a whine escapes you when he slips his cock from your pussy.

you can feel the cum he kept plugged inside you gushing out and your body tenses. it finally dawns on you what he did. draken's eyes trail from your messy cunt to your expression and he is bothered by the unsureness contorting your features.

he presses a deep kiss to your mouth, almost like he wants to remind you it is him, that it is okay because it's him, that you were going to be with him one way or another. he caresses your face and you pursue your lips as he stands from the bed and goes to the bathroom.

you are stuck in your thoughts, your eyes on him when he reenters the room and he starts wiping you off. you are sore and tired yet you cannot seem to sleep because what does this mean for you and him?

once he is done he climbs into the bed with you, he tucks himself along your side, his bicep your pillow and his nose nuzzling your cheek. you are both still completely bare, his arm wraps around your waist and it is silent for a moment before his deep voice flitters through the air.

"do you think it took?" your brows raise, eyes slightly alarmed. what does he mean by that? you know what he means. you swear it was all in the heat of the moment.

your eyes meet his, "what?" you are exasperated but draken is unphased.

"my seed." it makes a shiver run down your spine. you furrow your brows, you are not sure what you should say.

"i don't know... i don't think so," you cannot picture yourself pregnant, not right now. you never thought he would want that, not with you.

you are surprised by how disheartened he seems.

"we can keep trying." his hand trails along your waist until it sits low on your stomach. you are stunned, you are entirely in disbelief. he gently strokes the flesh while your thoughts are a jumbled mess.

when his gaze meets yours, he smiles. it is too dangerous.

"i hope our baby has your eyes."

i didn't think this would be so long

i have a nanami fic that's almost done and it is just as long !

#san.stories #🩷.tr #draken smut #draken #ken ryuuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #ken ryuuguji x y/n #📁.toxic relationship #📁.impregnation #📁.breeding kink #tw.coercion #tw.manipulation

[yawnderu]

hi, i've only discovered your writing recently but i can't even explain how much i love it 😭 it's like that one anon who i think said that it feels very real, like you're getting 4k ultra hd 8d view of the scene lol 🩷

i really like your bimbo reader posts but i also sort of enjoy seeing them from this point of view that's like.... "this is not his gfs """"constant"""" style but he just lets her be in this kind of persona sometimes because it's relaxing to let him do all the work and thinking for her from time to time".

i hope this makes sense 😭 thank you for writing something that's this cute and wholesome i just love it

Thank you so much sweetheart, this is really lovely!! 😭😭😭<3

Yeah!! I totally get where you're coming from!! She's not exactly dumb, it's actually quite the opposite. I'd like to hc her as a girl who managed to get into a very good university and is studying astrophysics simply because she liked watching stars as a child. She's not dumb— just a girl who grew up extremely sheltered and hasn't seen the world through the eyes of someone who has had a difficult life, like Simon.

There's certain naivety that while it can be dangerous, she's been learning more and more about with Simon's help about stranger danger and trusting her instinct, but the girl is always surrounded by people who enjoy seeing her thrive and always teach her the things that her parents didn't.

I'd say in general she has a very good life, and now paired with Simon, someone whose entire soul wants to see her thrive?? She gets to turn off her brain and simply let him take control— he sometimes picks her clothes for her, dressing her up to the best of his capacity even when he's not a fashion guy.

This man has studied all her Instagram pictures because she's mesmerizing and he loves her that much, yet it also gives him the chance to more or less know what combinations she likes to wear. He still remembers the time she looked at him like he grew a second head for trying to make her wear dots and lines— but he never made that same mistake again.

They work surprisingly well together despite basically being on complete opposite sides of a spectrum, and at the end of the day, they work this well because they're both equally in love with the other.

Simon is level-headed and that gives her the chance to simply be herself without worrying about anything, he gives her a sense of security that she's never gotten with anyone else, while bimbo!reader gives Simon the love and affection he never even dared to think about. The main thing is that she looks and treats him like he's worth something how good of a soldier he is. Hell, she doesn't even know he's a soldier, she simply found the most brooding and intimidating guy and fell in love with him before she even knew it.

They both spoil each other a lot. Simon buys her things, treats her with patience and love, and generally treats her like the princess that she is, while she takes care of Simon like no other. She does face masks with him, gives him massages, does his manicure (trimming and cleaning his nails, putting lotion on his calloused hands), and is overall as patient as they come.

They're a pretty wholesome pair and quite honestly I enjoy writing about them a lot, the love they have for each other is fully pure and it makes me happy. :')

Sorry for going off here HJBEFJBHKFEHBKJEFHBJK I wrote too much but God, I love this pair SO fucking much

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

#stray answers #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod mwii #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x bimbo!reader #simon riley x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost mw3 #mw3 #cod mw3 #modern warfare iii #call of duty mw3 #modern warfare 3

[shisnhou]

does anyone else have thoughts about gojo satoru who wants to buy you sexy lingerie for your birthday present, but doesn’t know what your bra or panty size is.

the man is walking into the lingerie store with his head held up high and his cheeks tainted red. all the women, and their significant others look at him with a confused yet intrigued look. why‘s this extremely handsome man walking into the lingerie store alone?

with long confident strides, this man walks to the set aisle. his blue eyes widen behind the designer sunglasses, and it isn’t the price tags that fluster him—he could care less about the insane price tags—what flusters him is the material and style of the lingerie.

he swallows, hard. he suppresses the shaking of his hand and reaches out for the dark blue lingerie before his also very blue eyes.

"excuse me sir?" a woman appears out of no where, breaking goio‘s impure imagination of you in said lingerie. "is there anything i can help you with?" she asks, cocking a brow.

gojo puts the lingerie down and stammers, licking his lips for a moment before coming to his senses. "i— yeah." he thinks hard and keeps his mind straight. "can i have this for my girl?"

"sure," she nods, taking the lingerie from his hands. "this is our limited edition, by the way. we only have two of these ever made by our famous designer.." gojo could honestly care less about what she is saying. all he‘s thinking of right now is taking the sinful piece and placing it on you as soon as possible.

"yeah." he nods, already looking around for another sexy set.

"the person you‘re with must be really lucky." she chuckles, still doing whatever the fuck she‘s supposed to do and looks at him. "this is one of a kind." she further adds. he nods again. "so i‘ll have to ask.."

"what‘s their size?"

gojo stops.

"what?"

"it‘s limited edition, so there‘s no size other than this. we have to make sure it‘s their size." she looks at him.

gojo halts. his whole body shuts down as he looks at it. he hadn‘t thought that part through. he thought that if he‘d see what looks good, he‘d immediately know it was made for you. but for god sake, now that he’s here, he doesn’t have a single clue.

"i— um—" he stammers, trying to explain it. "it‘s—"

"do you not know it?" she frowns. "i mean it‘s okay. you‘d just have to ask her then come—"

"no! i know it!" he cuts her off quick, pressing his fingers to his temple. "it‘s— it‘s.."

without even realizing it, gojo brings up both his hands to the air and makes an odd shape. the woman watches and eyes him oddly as he continues to further describe the shape.

"what‘re you doing…?"

"i‘m trying to show you." without a single ounce of shame, this man then puts his hands on the bra and feels it.

he‘s trying to figure out your tit size with his hands.

"yeah, that‘s it." he nods, sure of himself. then he grabs the thong. he places it flat on his palm and sees the size before nodding once again and smiling to the woman. "mhm, that‘s the right size."

the woman stares at him, bewildered. her jaw hangs agape, throat dry as she watches gojo move around and look at her. "yeah, that‘s it. it‘s her perfect size."

without even awaiting her response, he proudly takes the set from her and walks away, not even bothering to check the number tag for the size as he goes around and does the same for every piece of lingerie he encounters.

the people look at him, meanwhile he couldn‘t give a damn. he simply walks around, and purchases what he found with pride, leaving the store and the people in there more confused than they ever were in their lives.

and when the man gives it to you during your birthday, somehow, some fucking way, it‘s actually the right fucking size. and when he knows about it, he‘ll smugly tell you the story about how he found out your size and you‘ll just be left embarrassed the next time you‘re walking into that store with him.

#shin; [crimson] #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x poc reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo #gojou x y/n #gojou x you #gojou x reader #gojou angst #gojou fluff #gojou smut #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru angst #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo

[jawabear]

Steady Girl

Captian John Price x Reader

Not my GIF

A/N: this was a collective effort between myself and the legend that is @softpedropascal. She probably could've done a better job but this is my attempt. I had to use this GIF for...reasons. yes.... but yes, please enjoy my brain rot. Sorry for any mistakes.

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: AFAB!reader, cockwarming, mentions of scissors (?), teasing, dirty talk, rough sex, hair, pet names, sir kink (if you squint), let me know if anything else

Summary: John loves when you help him trim his facial hair. And he loves what comes after as well.

You always loved John’s beard, his mutton chops, every single hair on his body. But what you loved most about it was when he asked for your help on trimming it up a bit. he loved it too. He loved being close to you and having you care for him in such an intimate way. He loved to capture you lips when you got close enough. He loved seeing the look of concentration on your face as you focused on making his beard look perfect (not that it didn’t already). He loved the fact you sat on his lap. 

He loved all the possibilities that came along with the entire endeavour of you trimming his facial hair. His mind would run wild with the thoughts, and his cock would get hard under you. 

Or in this case, inside you. 

You were both showering together when he commented on needing his beard trimmed down, so when you got out you sat him down and got to work, not bothering with clothes and barely drying yourselves off. 

John didn’t say anything when he slipped himself into you, making you gasp a little but moan at the delicious stretch of his size. He always stretched you out, no matter the amount of times he had fucked you senseless in every corner of the house you shared. 

“Remember, not too much off” he said, his voice low, gruff and making your pussy clench around his cock. He let out a huff of a laugh and rested his hands on your thighs. 

“I know” you said, trying to act a little bit cocky to give the impression his thick cock inside you wasn’t making your head spin. You shifted a little on his lap and whimpered at the shift, at the brush of his cock against your walls. Even without this or your attempt at seeming unfazed, he knew you were loosing it. You could never last with his dick dormant in your walls. You were always impatient when it came to him. You could barely concentrate on what you were doing, your hands trembling. 

“Steady, girl” he muttered. His hot breath felt good against your water damp cheek. And the lowness of his voice made you clench again and almost start bouncing on his lap. He wouldn’t have cared, but he was in a teasing mood. And he was relentless at it. “Keep your focus, yeah? Don’t want to cut off too much, do you?”

“N-No. I’m sorry. Just feels so good” you tried to blink away the oncoming daze that was threatening to cloud your mind, but your head still spun and his cock still throbbed inside you. Fuck it felt so good. You could feel every pump of blood keeping it hard, and every protruding vein adding slight pressure against your slick walls. No doubt he was soaked. Not just from the shower, but from the amount of juices that had flooded out of your pussy from simply feeling him inside you. 

He hadn’t even touched you, let alone fucked you. And you were loosing it. Loosing your mind and will as a normal human being. You’d happily give yourself to pleasure and corrupt your mind if it meant being fucked dumb by the one and only Captain John Price. And he knew this all too well. Seeing as he was in a teasing mood, he liked to play on this. 

“I bet it does” his hands stroked up and down your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. Your teeth dug back into your bottom lip, a lot harder this time. You were trying to restrain the ungodly and pathetic moans, whimpers and begs that were bubbling on the surface of your throat.  “I know you love my fat cock inside your little pussy” he grabbed your thighs and began slowly rocking you back and forth. 

“Yes” you panted. Your head rolled back and let out a soft whimper. God he felt so good. Even the slightest and softest movements had that coil building inside your stomach. It had your blood burning and heart thrumming against your chest. The Captain slapped your left thigh. Not too hard, but hard enough to get your attention. And for you to jolt. Jump a little on his dick. A minute thrust that nearly pushed you over the edge. Very nearly.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You’ve still got my left side to do” John’s big, rough skinned hand soothed over the point at which he slapped the skin. The sting was a little harsher because of the added layer of water remaining there but his gentle touch was a beautiful contrast. 

You managed to lift your head and meet his gaze. Staring into the beautiful blue eyes. Slightly clouded like a beautiful storm over a raging sea. It was a look you knew well. He was just as turned on as you were. He was also trying his hearest not to chuck those scissors to the side and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but his name. Captain John Price. 

You swallowed and nodded and carefully turned his head a little so you could start on his left side. But you didn’t have the strength to do it as precisely as the other side. Maybe you would’ve if he hadn’t slid a hand up your body and was now playing with your already hard nipple. 

“John…my hands…” your tried to get out your words but he didn’t seem to care about your pleas. “They’re shaking” John turned his head a little and pressed a hot kiss to your palm.

“That’s not shaking, love” his voice was lower now, almost a warning “finish up and do a good job and I’ll show you what it looks like when you shake” oh, it was a warning. A promise. 

You couldn’t help but moan. Your pussy practically strangling his cock at this point. John let out a low grumble of a moan and dropped his hand back down to your thigh, squeezing them in his hand and slapped them again. Both of them this time. You whined and bucked your hips against him. He slapped your thighs again “you deaf?” He questioned. 

“N-No. I’m sorry…sir” with shaky hands, you went back to trying to trim up his mutton chops. You knew it wasn’t going to be your best work. This is how it usually went. You’d do one side perfectly, but then he would tease you, turn you on until you were on the verge of tears and wouldn’t fuck you until you had finished. And then when you were fucked out and barely conscious on wherever it was he fucked you, he would fix it up himself. 

That was what was going to happen here. 

But he was satisfied when he heard the satisfying slice of the scissors through his hair. He could feel your hand on his cheek, keeping his head to the side. Either to get better access to his facial hair, or to stop his raging sea gaze from burning into your eyes. 

His hands were still at play though. And he was getting bolder. His hands slid to your inner thighs, dragging his finger tips dangerously close to your throbbing core. To your clit that had been brushing up against the curls of the corse hair there the whole time. You needed him to touch you there. And the Captain knew that. 

“John…please” you begged, grinding yourself onto him. 

“No no, love. You need to focus. And I know you can’t focus when I’m touching your cute little clit” you only whined more at that. 

“But I can’t focus when you’re not touching me!” 

Oh, he liked that. He liked the desperation in your voice. He liked the way you tried your hardest to bounce on his cock. But his hands were pushing down on your thighs preventing you from getting very far. 

“Keep going” he told you “you’re nearly finished. And then I’ll give you what we both want” 

You let out a frustrated groan and tried to speed up your trimming, your hands still shaking, your head still spinning, your core still aching and his fucking cock still throbbing. How was he not loosing his mind as much as you?

Evidently, by the storm in his eyes, he was losing his mind as much as you. Maybe just a little more. Just a little. But John was very very good a hiding his emotions. Even when he was turned on. He always remained in complete control of himself. And you. 

“Easy, girl” he caught your wrist and turned his head to look at you. The raging seas in his eyes mirrored that of the flood between your legs. 

“I’m done…I’ve finished” you panted as you dropped the scissors to the floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed yourself further against him. Chest to chest. Just the way he liked it. 

He moved one hand to your hip and the other he ran over his freshly trimmed mutton chops. He grunted a little. “It’ll do” he muttered. He grabbed your ass and lifted you up. John got to his feet, cock still hard inside you and carried you out to the bedroom. He put you on the bed, back flat against the sheets as he kneeled between your legs. 

“You did a good job, sweetheart. And I did promise I’d give you what you wanted. What we both wanted” he pulled your thighs up over his, pushing his cock somehow further into you. “Now, I’m going to make you shake. Make you tremble. Make a fucking mess of you until you can’t remember anything but my name” 

“Y-Yes sir!” 

“And what is my name, beautiful?”

“Captain John Price!” You all but screamed it out. A trigger word for him drilling himself into you. “Thank you! Thank you Captain!” 

“Thank you, beautiful. Thank you for having such a perfectly little pussy. So fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ hot. So. Fucking. Tight” he punctuated the last three words with hard and powerful thrusts. 

God, you were gone. You mind completely blank. The pleasure numbing your brain, body and fucking soul. “That’s it. Let yourself go fuckin’ stupid for me. Let me have all of this pussy” 

“All yours” you managed to moan. You didn’t know if you were making coherent words or if it was just a mumbled mess of pleasure. He seemed to know what you were talking about though. 

“Good girl” he pressed one hand to your pelvis and rubbed his thumb over your clit. That sent you to a whole new layer of pleasure. Of heaven. 

You could only see pleasure. You could only see white. You could only see…him. 

“John…please….’m close” 

“I know sweetheart. Let go. Come for me” his thumb was furiously rubbing your clit and his dick was throbbing so much you thought it was going to explode. You were nearly in tears. Or perhaps you were. Your skin was burning that you thought any tears you shed would’ve evaporated. 

You reached your hand down and grabbed at his wrist as you came. Your juices spilling out all over his cock and pelvis. You soaked him. He loved it. You babbled out a mess of his name, ‘feels good’ and ‘coming!’. It pulled him close. So so close. Teetering on that edge. Just one more little thing and it would be over. 

You swallowed thickly. “Come for me, John” your voice was quiet, hoarse and laced with pure, burning pleasure. For him. All for him. 

“Oh fuck-“ his voice faltered and his hips stuttered as he managed to pull out in time to spill himself all over your heaving chest. Hot, thick ropes of his come painted the canvas that was yourself. A perfect masterpiece in his opinion. If he could, he would frame it and put it in front of his bed. In front so he could get himself off while staring at it. 

John stroked himself until he was completely spent. The pleasure still twitching through his body. As it was yours, although for you it was like being drowned. Drowned in pure ecstasy. 

With heavy eyes, he raked up your body. Your fucked out face was a perfect picture. “Perfect” he felt the need to tell you that. Even though you could comprehend nothing. You whined and tried to roll over, probably to get up. “Steady, girl” he said again. Slight humour in his voice. “Give me a minuet and I’ll help you”

“W-with what?” You panted. 

“Well, we’re going to need another shower” he crawled over you and pressed a long and siring kiss to your parted lips. You made no attempt at trying to kiss him back. When he pulled back you managed to open your eyes to meet his. The storm starting to pass, but something else was brewing. A tranquil oasis. love. “And you need to finish my left side”

5/1/23

#captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price smut #captain john price smut #modern warfare 2 #mw2 smut

[readychilledwine]

Hi Liz! I have been following you for a while now and I absolutely adore everything you write. You are incredibly talented and deserve all praise for it ❤️

I have never actually requested a story from any author simply because I will devour almost any content by fanfic authors and truthfully it makes me feel a little greedy and I never want anyone to feel forced to write anything. However, I have had this idea since I read one of your stories and I feel like no one else would be able to do it justice like you would.

Essentially, the reader is the youngest Archeron sister and is mated to Azriel (mating bond has been accepted and they have been together for a couple of months now) but she is inexperienced (her first time was with Azriel) and Nesta has been giving her some of her hard core smutty books and now the reader wants to explore some kinks with Azriel (somnophilia, cock warming, wing play, bondage) but she’s embarrassed to bring up the conversation with him. Anyway, she eventually has that conversation with Azriel (he’s all too happy about it because no one can tell me this male doesn’t have a corruption kink) and smut ensues.

First of all, thank you for the endless compliments 💜💜 I'm so excited you're here and have welcomed me into your world for entertainment purposes.

Second of all, I could NEVER deny an Azriel corruption kink fic.

Breathe

Summary - A year of sexual exploration hasn't even began to touch the things Azriel would like to do to you.

Warnings - throat fucking, breath play, references to knife play, auralism, jealous Rhys and cassian at the end, mentions of other explored kinks and sexual senerios

Azriel pushed his fingers further unto your throat, his shadows forcing your hair back as he held your book in his free hand.

“I've been wondering why you've been sending me wave after wave of arousal all day,” he rose a brow a passage involving the male character using a knife to pleasure the female main. “Is this what my pretty little mate reads when I'm away? Her big sister's smut novels?”

He watched as you gagged, drool and spit coming to the corner of your mouth as you struggled to breathe and looked up at him doe eyed. “Want me to fuck you with Truth Teller, mate? Does the thought of coming on a deadly weapon soak your little lace panties?” He chuckled darkly. Mocking your inability to answer. 

“You're trained better than this, slut. You know to answer me when I ask you a question.” You whined around his fingers. You  could feel the tension in his body, feel his need for stress relief. 

The two of you had just began exploring physically together. The bond finally snapped after your 20th birthday. After the Mortal queen and the deathless God had been dealt with. After Elain finally let her claws out of him long enough for him to notice you. To feel you.

He had not pushed sex, knowing from Nesta you were the only one of the 4 of you to hold onto that seemingly special thing so tightly. It had taken a year for you to spread those pretty thighs and let him take you, but after that, you fucked like rabbits. Trying every dirty thing and kink your mind wanted to explore.

Azriel had allowed you to dominate him, whining as you rode his cock and denied him orgasm after orgasm, fingers dancing his scarred wings.

He had tied you from the ceiling his dungeon, harnessed up like a swing and fucked you to sweet oblivion.

He had taken every tight hole, came anywhere he could. Marked you in his scent and musk more times than you two could count.

But you were still his sweet innocent girl. 

His little untouched angel exploring your sexuality and urges like an animal in heat sometimes. Your recent needs were punishment. You liked him hurting you, dominating you, watching as you cried. You liked breath play lately, hence his fingers sinking deeper as you struggled, black beginning to form in your eyes until he took those fingers out and slapped you.

“Need you to suck my cock, princess,” he began unlacing his leathers, mind lost in the pleasure your mouth would bring him. “Open. Now.”

You obeyed, throat relaxing and mouth opening as his cock sprung free. Hard leaking and angry from weeks away from you. He pushed in without hesitation, setting a gentle pace as he tightened his grip in your hair.

“She couldn't breathe,” his deep voice began reading from the book, making you whine around his cock as he pushed it down your throat ensuring you couldn't either. “The feeling of the cold hilt in her warm walls causing her to feel wave after wave of shock and pleasure.”

He looked down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks, at you swallowing around him as spit pooled the corners of your mouth. His eyes went back to the book. “There was something about the danger, the thrill of this deadly weapon being used to push her to the edge that had her crying out, begging and pleading for more and more as she met every thrust with her hips. Fucking herself harder and harder on her mate's weapon.”

You were aching, dripping for him, and tapped his thigh for a quick breath, watching as he pulled out and looked down at you unimpressed. You panted a few gulps of air before taking him back in your mouth and bobbing your head, hallowing your cheeks and licking each vein on his shift. 

Azriel groaned loudly above you, setting the book down before his now free hand joined the other one tangled in your now messy hair. He began fucking your throat harshly. Barely allowing you moments of air as he chased his much needed high. 

You could do nothing but hold on for life when he did this. When he lost control for you. He pushed all the way in, gagging you again and held you there, nose pressed against his skin. “Breathe,” he commanded in a moan. “Being such a good girl, y/n.” 

Throat fucking as new to you. An unexplored territory you hadn't even considered until he had asked gently. You knew it was more for him than for you, but right now you felt this sense of power as he moaned above you, wings shuttering as his body shivered. 

That power reached a deep set need in your bones, allowing you to relax and enjoy this more with a small moan. “There we go, angel,” he whispered. “Just like that for me. I'm so proud of you.” He began thrusting again, allowing you to hear his pleasure, allowing you to feel that power you had over him. “Keep breathing, baby,” his voice was almost a whimper. “Just keep breathing, I'm right there, y/n. Please honey.”

Him begging had you moaning against him, relaxing your throat further as your watched his breathing pick up, his plump lips part, his eyes scrunch. 

Without warning he pushed all the way in, spilling down your throat, as a roar tore through his own. He pulled back slightly, releasing the last of his cum onto your stuck out tongue with a satisfied smile. 

He kneeled down to you, shadows bringing him a notebook and pen and he wiped the small bits that hit your face off with his thumb before forcing you to suck that digit. 

He flipped through the notebook, a page dedicated to each sexual act and kink you two had explored with a rating and comments from both of you before landing on the page he needed and the adjoining blank one. 

“1 through 5?” He asked you gently, removing his thumb and kissing your forehead. 

“3.5,” you admitted with guilt. “I only enjoyed it because you do, and it made me feel slightly in control.”

He nodded, writing your response as you two both moved to sit cross-legged from each other on the floor. “Do not feel guilty. I am just happy it ranked high enough to be in the rotation. How about the reading to you thing?”

“4 out of 5. I enjoyed it a lot when you were doing that.” Azriel jotted it down.

“And what the fuck is going on in this novel? Do you want to try knife play?”

“Only with you,” you answered. 

Azriel leaned forward, kissing you gently. “It's one of my favorites. I've done it with a couple play partners. I can answer any questions you have.”

The two of you sat there, filling in a few more pages of the book you had started to keep during the beginning of your exploration a year ago, smiling at the things you've already done, going on your list of retries. 

Love was free flowing down the bond, soaking the room and fabric in it's scent, filling the Riverhouse with its presence with every passing moment. 

Rhys and Cassian sighed from downstairs, tapping their feet on the wooden floors as they waited for Azriel to come give them his mission report. 

“This happens every fucking time,” Cassian sat down on the couch. “Is it us? Is fatherhood killing our sex drive?”

Rhys shrugged. “I don't know what's killing your sex drive, brother. Mine is fine. Hince 3 little ones. If you could figure out what's keeping theirs so... passionate, though, I'd appreciate it.” 

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x archeron!reader

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, either in direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

#paul matthews #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #tgwdlm hive #hatchetfield meta #tgwdlm meta #tgwdlm analysis #analysis

[lostgirlmuseum]

Give Me A Sign

Made with photos from Pinterest ^

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Warnings: HUGE WARNING, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! Heavy suicidal ideation, but happy ending. Please be very careful in considering if this is triggering for you. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read, your mental health and safety comes first.

A/N: I’m really sorry if this isn’t great, I wanted to do more but I kept getting stuck, and tbh I just want to post it as is instead of stress about it.

(Dividers from @saradika)

The air was unusually crisp the night Bucky snuck into the gardens of Cornelia Park. He had a faint memory of visiting once, in another century, with Steve. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Steve is dead. Bucky feels the weight of his entire history on his scarred shoulders. He feels out of place in such a green and flourishing area of flora. It’s wrong for him to be among such a place of peace and beauty, he finds it almost funny. Almost. 

He followed the path of lavenders into the private area of the park, surrounded by tall hedges. At the center stood an old stone statue, one he remembered from the last time he visited. Only now it looked much more worn and weathered. The statue was of an angel, a woman with wings. Her eyes were kind, her features soft, despite the stone. She held her arms out, one hand holding a lantern, the other beckoning him to hold. Instead, Bucky sat on the bench in front of her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, apologizing for his very presence. He dropped his head into his hands.

And then he started crying. And his cries evolved to sobbing. He let himself cry, a privilege he rarely allowed himself. He let the tears flow, and they didn’t stop for what felt like hours. After forcing himself to pull himself together, he wiped his final tears from his cheeks and looked up to the black sky.

“Give me a sign, God.” His voice wavered.

“If you’re real, give me a sign to keep going. I’ve been at this a really long time. Just gimme— gimme a sign to keep going. That it will be worth it. Because life feels pretty damn bleak. And I know I should keep going, but I…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“I… fuck.” He looked back down at his hands. He thought about how much he hated those hands. He thought about how he wished he could wash the memories from his head like he does the blood from his palms, and how he wished he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He thought about how he wished he had died at the bottom of that cliff, and how everyone would be better off if—

“Hello?”

A small voice shook him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even heard someone approach. But there you were, standing in the entrance of the hedge garden.

“Oh, hi,” you smiled, once you saw him. At least he thinks you smiled. It was hard for him to see you in the shadows. 

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, once he realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He had just stared. He looked away from you and back at his lap.

“No need to be sorry,” you said, walking up to the bench he sat on, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 

He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He too thought he was the only person there.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You kindly asked, wrapping your white cardigan a bit tighter. 

That was when he looked up and saw your face in the light of the lantern for the first time. The first thing he thought was that you looked like you belonged there in the garden, unlike him. You could replace the angel statue, and its meaning would stay the same. 

“Go ahead,” he simply said. Although what he really thought was to warn you. Are you sure you want to sit next to him?

You took your place on the bench silently. Neither of you spoke for the first couple minutes. Bucky tried to focus on the sound of crickets, and the lack of traffic. 

He wasn’t sure why he stayed. If anything, his first thought should be to get up, walk away, escape. But he didn’t.

“My name is Y/N.” You softly said.

Stunned by your confession, he let his guard down.

“Bucky.” He half whispered back.

You simply hummed in response.

He could sense your gaze on him. It wasn’t malicious or judgemental; it felt curious and gentle. 

“Are you okay?”

His throat started to constrict again. He didn’t like that question, because he didn’t like the answer. He knows he’s not okay. But he doesn’t know how to say it. After struggling for a response for many seconds, he conceded to shaking his head softly. No.

“I hope it gets easier soon.” 

He felt the dam begin to break again. 

“It will get better someday,” you continued, “maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, or month, but someday it will get better.”

“How can you be so sure?” He choked.

“Life is like a pendulum, have you ever heard that before?”

“No.”

“Well, it is. Right now you’re swinging into the bad, but eventually you’re gonna swing right back into the good. It’s just physics. And it sucks in a way, because what’s the point of swinging into the light if it’s just gonna cast that shadow you’ll fall back into? But it’s also comforting to me, because I know as long as I keep pushing, I’ll end up on the other side.”

Bucky let your words ring in his ears. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to open up to you, but he did.

“I just keep asking myself why should I stay?”

“The trick is to find a new reason when you can. I think of one everyday.”

“What’s yours?” 

“Today?” You sighed and looked up at the stars. “I want to see the next snow.”

“That won’t be for months,” he said.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then.” You gave a knowing smile.

“What should mine be?”

He knew there should be a million things, but they were all just out of reach of his mind.

“That’s up to you.”

Bucky didn’t say it, but he quickly came up with his reason to stay.

You. 

He told himself that he had to see you again.

Bucky went back the next night. And the next. And he kept going back, because you met him every night for a week until you finally asked him if he wanted to meet you for lunch. That was the start of your relationship. Soon enough Sam started asking where Bucky had gone so often. He wasn’t in his room all day anymore, and he seemed lighter. He wasn’t ‘fixed’, obviously, but he was better. It started to get easier to breathe. 

The pendulum had begun to swing in Bucky’s favor, and it stayed that way for months. He still had his days, as did you, but you were happy together. You supported each other. 

And then came a very tough week.

The anniversary of Steve’s death. 

The wound had reopened, and Bucky spiraled. He was a mess, a total mess, and you were there to comfort him. 

But your kindness reminded him of Steve, and how he wasn’t enough for him. If Bucky was good enough for Steve, he wouldn’t have left, right? 

Although Bucky knew you wouldn’t leave him. That was the problem. He was an anchor, and you held on. 

For your own good, he convinced himself he had to let go, if you wouldn’t.

The absence of warmth next to you woke you up. 

“Bucky?” You whispered. The clock blinked 4:13 A.M. 

No reply. You figured maybe he was sleeping on the couch, so you carefully sat up and waited a couple seconds before letting your bare feet touch the cold ground. Pulling your robe on from where it had fallen on the floor, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and padded over to the living room.

It was dark, and your eyes were still adjusting, but you could tell that he wasn’t there. You felt the rise of panic in your chest just before you spotted him standing on the balcony. 

He didn’t turn around to look at you as the door slid open and shut. He remained staring over the ledge at some unknown point.

“Hey, honey,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug.

You hear his whimper before you feel his body shake.

“Y/N, I—”

“What’s wrong honey?” You quickly let go, turning him to face you. You notice his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His cheeks were rosy; you could tell he had been crying for a while.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes.

“Sorry for what?” 

“I’m sorry for everything.” He starts. “I’m too much. I don’t deserve you, you deserve someone easier. Someone better, someone— someone good.”

“But I love you, and you are good. Bucky, where is this coming from?” The concern was thick in your voice. Sure, he had been a little down lately, but nothing alerted you to this level of distress.

“Sweetheart, all I do is bring hardship into your life. You deserve to live,” he looks into your eyes earnestly, “I know I shackle you to me. I know you give up things to be with me. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m letting you free.”

You hold back a shiver.

“What are you talking about? I want to be with you. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not fair that I’ve lived this long, and it’s not fair that I’m dragging you down with me. I’m a fucking burden, Y/N. At first to Steve, then Sam, and now you. I can’t keep adding to the list of lives I ruin.”

“Honey, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.” You place your hand on his bicep, and try to speak with an appropriate mix of confidence and compassion.

“I’m doing it now!” He shakes his head vigorously, wiping away his tears as if evidence that he’s stopped crying will convince you to go. “You should be sleeping, please go back to sleep. You shouldn’t have to watch over me and make me feel better.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?” You whisper, fearing that if you spoke any louder your voice would break with your heart.

He took a while to answer, biting his lip and looking around before finally responding.

“Do you remember when we first met? In the garden?” He looks at you, eyebrows drawn. As if you could actually forget. You nod.

“I wanted to—” his voice breaks and he looks down— “I went… I was thinking about—” it cracks again, and his throat is constricting itself around the words he can’t say. “I was thinking I was really going to do it. I had basically decided. And then right as I was asking God for one more chance, one reason to stay alive—you appeared. I thought God sent me an Angel. A real Angel.” His eyes sparkle before dimming again. “I tarnish you. You waste your goodness on me, and the world needs it more.”

You don’t like where this is going. You know you need to reel him back in, and fast.

“Look at me, Bucky Barnes. Look at me.” You grab his face firmly and make sure he’s seeing you.

“I’m a burden.” He crumbles.

“Then be my burden!” You cry. “I want you to be my burden. Maybe without you, my life would be ‘easier.’ But I don’t want it to be if it means a life without you.” You search his blue watery eyes, wiping a tear that starts to leak from one. “I don’t fucking choose ‘easier.’ I choose you, Bucky. My choice is to be with the love of my life. And if that means skipping a couple hours of sleep to comfort you, and staying in on weekends, and crying with you, that doesn’t change the fact that I am the luckiest person on Earth. This is my choice too, Bucky. Do you hear me?” You place your hands on both of his arms.

He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods.

“I choose you.” 

He nods again, and bites his bottom lip.

“I choose you.” You repeat, not once looking away from him.

He whimpers.

“Say it. Can you say it, please?” You don’t want to push him, but you need to know that your point has been made clear.

“You choose me.” He whispers, before falling into your embrace, and tucking his head into your neck.

“I do. I really do.” You say, holding back your own tears as you rub his back.

“I’m sorry.”

You know telling him he has nothing to be sorry for won’t work, so you instead answer by agreeing. 

“Me too. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m sorry you struggle to see how much I need you, too. But we are going to be okay, okay?”

He sobs harder, holding you tighter. You feel his warm tears start to stain your shirt under the thin robe. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you hum.

“Don’t leave me,”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, bringing one hand up to the nape of his neck and start gently playing with his hair. “Are you ready to go back inside? Do you want to lay down with me?”

Without pulling away from you, he nods. You wait for him to let go of you before going to grab his hand and leading him to the bed, but he stops you. Instead of letting you show him the way, he decides to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your room, knowing he couldn’t wait until laying down to have your body pressed against his. 

Once you were both settled under the cozy blankets, your bodies facing each other, his head on your chest and your hand rubbing his back in circular motions, he spoke drowsily, exhausted from his breakdown.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“And I love you,” You cooed, placing a small kiss on his forehead before drifting off into your dreamless sleeps.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I know life can be a fucking shit show, but please stay alive. If you know someone who is struggling, consider reaching out to them. And if you yourself are struggling, please reach out to someone. And if you feel like there is no one to talk to, my asks/dms are open. You are not alone.

I don’t want anyone to read this fic and their takeaway is that if they have no partner, they are on their own. I choose you. Do you hear me? I choose you, and I implore you to choose yourself. Stay alive for yourself. Be spiteful against your depression. And if you’re one of those people who can’t help but say “I hate you,” to the mirror, and feel like you mean it, know that there is hope for you too. Because I was once that person. And with help, and time, I am able to say that I don’t hate myself. I can look in the mirror and appreciate who I am. Of course I still have my moments, but my point is that if you told me when I was at my lowest, that I’d one day be able to say “I love you” to the mirror without bursting out in tears, I’d call you a liar. 

(Sorry for making this A/N so long, hopefully someone can find comfort in it. I’m still here. And you should be too.)

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n

[badbtssmut]

no.11

Taehyung free using his girlfriend's bestie in a 1 week vacation even infront of her, which is a gift by his gf and her bestie for his birthday.

You always thought Taehyung was attractive. You were jealous when your friend introduced him, as you couldn’t believe she snagged him up. But, you would never share those feelings. It was inappropriate.

But then one day, when both you and Taehyung were bit tipsy, you kissed at a party. You felt guilty. Ashamed. So you left to go home and never thought anything of it. It was one kiss, and it meant nothing. You even called Ara to confess and to your shock, she was ok with it, simply commenting that Tae had told her and that it was no big deal.

“Ya know, Tae’s birthday is soon, how about we do something special?” Your friend, Ara, suggested to make taehyung’s birthday special by giving him a sexcation, and she wanted your help in making that happen.

—

It was really happening.

As soon as the night fell, you went up to the bedroom, followed shortly after by taehyung. The door had barely closed behind him before he had pressed his lips against yours. It was like he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. You kissed back, of course, running your hands up and down his chest. His shirt came off and his body was soon exposed. Soon, both of you were naked and in the bed, Taehyung on top of you.

Ara had walked in by now, simply turning on the TV, and laid down in the bed right next to yours, placing a bowl of snacks on the nightstand, completely unfazed by the fact that the man she loved was currently kissing another woman.

He entered you, slowly and softly. His movements gentle. You let out a moan, but it was soon muffled by his mouth as he kissed you once more.

“Mm, your cock feels so good…” You whispered against his lips.

“I bet it does, you are so wet for me already.” Taehyung whispered back, moving in and out of you in a slow rhythm.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just enjoy the moment. You felt like you were on cloud 9, the sensation of him inside of you, the sound of him grunting in your ear... and the fact that Ara was literally watching you two do it, turned you on even more.

The whole experience was unlike anything else you had ever felt before. It was so erotic, so wrong and yet so exciting.

After a few minutes of this slow rhythm, he picked up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster.

“Mm…” You spread your legs further. “Just like that… keep going just like that…” You squeezed your eyes shut, holding on to the sheets tightly.

Fuck, is this what your friend was feeling? Is this what it felt like to get fucked by such a hot guy?

Taehyung pulled out and flipped you around so you were on your knees.

You gasped, feeling him enter you from behind. You didn't even know why, but the idea of getting fucked like this in front of your friend was just making it all the more arousing.

He held on to your hips, and began pounding into you. Your pussy was now stretched wide, and the feeling of his throbbing cock slamming in and out was overwhelming.

"Oh, Tae... oh!" You buried your head into the pillow, each thrust bringing you closer.

His hips rocked forward with each thrust, and he grunted in pleasure. "Good girl, take my cock." You heard him praise you.

Taehyung gripped your hips tighter and continued to thrust. You were so tight around him, and you could feel every inch of him inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You whimpered, overcome by pleasure. This was so good, you didn’t want it to end. You bounced your body back and forth to match his thrusts, earning pleasurable moans from him.

You were on the brink of climax. You tried to hold back, but it was too much. The sight of your friend watching you from the side, the feeling of his cock in your pussy, and the sound of his grunts were all too much. And just like that, you came. A wave of pleasure washed over you. You felt so relieved, yet also exhausted. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling the mattress creak beneath your weight.

Taehyung gave one last thrust, burying himself deep inside of you, before he groaned and filled you up with his cum. He then pulled out and rolled onto the bed next to you. You looked over at him, your breathing still heavy, and he gave you a sweet smile.

You were sad about it ending, but you knew you had six more days left.

#bts smut #bts requests #bts x reader #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x female reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader

[vivwritesfics]

Keep on Rolling - MV1

Chapter Five

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

1.3K words

Promised QandA in next part

Series Masterlist

"Hey man," Lando said to Max one evening at dinner. It was drivers only, simply because Y/N was too busy working. Everybody wanted her there, but she couldn't spare the time.

Max looked at Lando with a polite smile, too busy eating to say anything.

"You let Y/N interview you?"

He nodded his head, still eating.

"Oh. Well, the rest of us ran away. We didn't trust it not to be a prank," Lando continued. "Why didn't you?"

Max stopped eating to look at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"What? No. I just want to know what you're doing with my best friend," answered Lando. This was starting to piss him off. "I don't care what you do, as long as you don't do anything to hurt her."

Max simply scoffed. He didn't have any intentions with Y/N. Whatever happened, happened. If that took them down the romantic route, so be it.

"Don't worry," he said, returning his attention to his food. "I don't plan on hurting her." He ate ignoring Lando and every other driver sat around the table. There was a good few minutes where Lando stared at him, something like disgust written on his face. He didn't mean to be pulling such a face, but he couldn't help it when it came to Y/N

***

Y/N's eyes hurt as she stared at the emails on her screen. "What the fuck," she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was seeming more and more impossible to find a moment of peace for her.

You need to look at this and give a statement, ASAP, the email said. This is the second time this has happened in the space of a month. How does this keep happening? You need to watch yourself to make sure it doesn't happen again

She read the email a couple of times over before clicking the link.

It was an Instagram post that had gone viral within the F1 community. Pictures of her with the drivers, hidden away in hotel rooms. Moments that nobody but Y/N and the drivers involved should have pictures of.

Her having dinner in Lando's apartment, Y/N and Charles walking through the hallway of a hotel together. There was one occasion where she, Lando and Carlos had snuck up to the roof of the hotel. Somehow that picture was in the post.

The worst one, though? There was a picture of Y/N and Max laying together. It must have been after the drunken quiz video, after they had fallen asleep against each other. It was such an intimate moment, a moment meant for the two of them and nobody else.

They were pictures nobody should have had. Who had taken them? Where had they come from? How did this account have them?

But then Y/N scrolled down to the comments

Username: omg she's such a whore

Username: You'd think this years championship would be interesting since she's sleeping with the whole grid

Username: I've never liked her

Username: She ruined Lando

Username: yeah I liked Carlando better before it involved her

They just went on and on like that. Thousands of them. For every supportive comment, there seemed to be two negative ones. It was horrible. How was she supposed to put out a statement about it.

So, she pulled out her phone and did the only thing she knew to do.

Ten minute later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N wiped her tears and ran to pull it open. "Oh thank god," she said through a sob and wrapped her arms around him.

Lando walked her further into the room and pushed the door shut behind him. “Tell me what happened,” he said and sat her down on her bed. He sat beside her and Y/N instantly placed her head on his shoulder.

"People are horrible," she sniffed as she pulled up the Instagram account.

Taking her phone from her hand, Lando scrolled through the pictures before getting to the comments. As he read them, his grip on Y/N was tight, growing tighter with every horrible comment.

"I've never seen these before," said Lando as he scrolled back up to the pictures. From the way they were taken, they couldn't have been fan pictures - they must have come from someone right there with them.

Lando pressed his finger against the power button and dropped Y/N's phone into his lap. He pulled her close, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this."

There was nothing they could do that night. So Y/N locked the door, double checked the lock and then pushed her bedside table up against it.

Y/N and Lando fell asleep together, spread out across the bed. They'd fallen asleep together several times before. They'd been doing it since they were kids, sharing a bed on sleepovers. It was a habit that hadn't died and had only taken breaks when either of them were dating.

"Promise everything is going to be okay?" Y/N muttered in her sleep as she rolled towards the door.

Lando's answer was a snore.

***

Max was used to his phone blowing up over night. He was a world famous Formula One driver, it was bound to happen. But, when he scrolled through his notifications this time, everything was different.

Pictures, none of which he had seen before. He was in some, but the one thing every picture had in common was Y/N. Max ignored all the pictures that didn't have him in the, all the pictures but the last one. The one of him in bed with her/

Nobody had been in the room with them, Max had made sure of it.

His phone vibrated in his hand. But it wasn't who Max hoped it would be. It wasn't the girl he had been pictured with. It was his father. Jos Verstappen. Just the man Max didn't want to be speaking to.

He swiped his finger across the screen and pressed his phone to his ear.

Have you ever been berated by an angry Dutchman almost to the point of tears. Max had. He'd been berated by his father so many times before. Even now, as a twenty five year old, it still stung just as much as it had when he was a child.

Jos ran through the list of all of the news article headlines he had read that morning. All of them about his son and the youtuber that had been following the grid around like a lost dog.

As much as Max wanted to defend her, Jos didn't give him the chance. He sat there in silence as his dad shouted at him down the phone. When Jos finally hung up, Max let out a sigh.

Suddenly there was a knock at his hotel room door. Now in a foul mood, Max stood and opened up the door.

"Hey," he said, letting his visitor in.

The visitor said nothing and walked into his room. "You need to stay away from Y/N."

Max stared at Lando. He said nothing, just stared, so Lando continued. "Stay away from her. Stop falling asleep with her, stop going near her. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life."

Max sat himself back on his bed and patted his thighs in a repetitive pattern. He'd just gotten enough of this from his father, he didn't need this from Lando, too. "What gives you the right?" he asked. "Why can't she make her own decisions?"

"She doesn't know what she wants," Lando spat.

Max shook his head. "I think you're wrong," he said. "I think she knows what she wants and you're unwilling to listen to her."

Suddenly Lando was very close to him, getting in his face. "Stay the fuck away from her," he growled and marched out of the room.

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mv1 imagine #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 smut

[tinkerbellep-t]

I’m such a sucker for realistic, well-rounded Lily Evans 🥹

Give me the Lily who enjoys shopping with Marlene just as much as she enjoys pranking with the Marauders! Who could spend hours getting ready, but normally does a full face of makeup in 5 minutes. A Lily who walks flawlessly in heels, but only when she can be fucked to wear them!

Lily, who is fantastic at Potions and Charms, but struggles in Transfiguration and HATES Divination, who doesn’t love homework and would much rather be doing anything else, but who understands the value in learning and holy fuck she’s learning about MAGIC and even in seventh year sometimes that still blows her away.

Lily who was a great friend, most of the time, but who also was a teenager and was sometimes selfish, prideful and conceited, a Lily who made mistakes because she was young and learning and human.

The Lily who fucking hates politics, who never wanted to be a martyr or symbol of anything at all, but for whom the war wasn’t an option and that fact sometimes overwhelmed her.

Lily who too often finds herself looking around her friends for the person in charge, and then realising ‘fuck it’s me’ and leaping into action with no clue what she’s actually doing! Because she wasn’t a born leader, but her ability to get on with most everyone led to her being at the centre of a lot of friendships, and so her love for her friend made a leader of her when it mattered.

The Lily who was a real, fantastic person, who came together with James after years of learning and growing together and apart. Who didn’t hate him, simply found him as frustrating and overconfident as he found her irritating and judgemental, but who saw herself reflected in the way he loved his friends, in the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and the sheer defiant commitment to his beliefs.

She wasn’t some faultless character who James was blessed to have the attention of, she was a person and that contains multitudes and i WISH there were more fanfictions that portrayed this!!!

#jily #lily evans #marauders #marauders era #lily evans potter #lily is as complex a character as anyone

[ultimateloserboy]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ABOUT THE DHMIS STORYBOARDS WHAT THE FUCK I MUST ANALYZE IMMEDIATELY

Ok so Adam Beer storyboarded some of the scenes for dhmis, and looking over them they give some REALLY JUICY information that was cut from the actual scenes!!!

he did one for a scene in jobs as well as death, but those arent too different from the finished product. the scenes that werent included are cute but theyre not vital to the lore or anything, yaknow?

death is almost completely the same, but i appreciate this drawing of red guy hes so shaped

but anyway, like i said, these two aren’t necessarily important, all the info we have from these storyboards is the same general info that we get in the finished show. However, Adam Beer worked on one other episode that includes a good chunk of cut lines and you know what that is? ELECTRICITY!!!!!!!

THATS RIGHT BABY WE HAVE MORE LESLEY LINES THAT PROVE MY WHOLE POINT!!! FUCK YOU LESLEY HATERS I KNEW SHE WASNT THE VILLAIN FROM DAY ONE!!!!!!

HER MEMORY IS FOGGY. SHE DOESNT WANT “US” GETTING IN TROUBLE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. WHAT DID I TELL YALL. I TOLD YALL SHES JUST AS TRAPPED AS THE OTHERS WHAT DID I SAY.

and the fact shes labeled as the narrator the whole time is so interesting because the narrator of a story does not necessarily control or create it, they simply tell it in an organized manner. SHE ISNT CREATING THE STORY SHE IS KEEPING IT IN LINE, TELLING IT PROPERLY, KEEPING EVERYTHING IN ITS PROPER PLACE OR ELSE SHE GETS IN TROUBLE DO YOU UNDERSTAND?? SHE IS TRAPPED AND MEANS NO HARM. SHE FIXES THEM UP WHEN THEY ARE BROKEN. SHE IS SIMPLY THE MESSENGER.

AND THIS. THIS FUCKING DOOR. I KNEW IT MEANT SOMETHING AND LOOK. ITS ON THE FOURTH WALL. AND THE STAIRS LEAD UP. SHE IS NOT RUNNING THE HOUSE. THERE IS SOMETHING ABOVE HER, POSSIBLY IMPLIED TO BE THE IRL PEOPLE WORKING ON THE SHOW BUT THATS JUST MY GUESS.

but anyway dont yall EVER shit talk my girl lesley again you hear me?? shes just a silly old lady and she doesnt aim to hurt anyone. although it doesnt matter what she aims to do, because no matter her own wants, she is still dancing in chains.

ive told yall a million times. but she doesnt say “WE” for nothing. god im going to EXPLODE

#I LOVE HER SO MUCH I KNEW YOU WERENT EVIL LESLEY GET BEHIND ME #dhmis #dhmis fandom #dhmis lesley #lesley dhmis #dhmis tv show #dhmis tv series #dhmis electricity #dont hug me im scared #dhmis analysis #dhmis theory

[pt2change]

pretty lips ; park jihyo

pairing: park jihyo x reader

genre: bff!jihyo, but they have a crush on each other heehee, they’re having a sleepover, y/n has a sex dream, wlw smut, dom!jihyo……, men dni

word count: 957

↣ jihyo masterlist

a/n: hiiii sorry if it’s not the best, i’m new to writing wlw smut :( feedback is appreciated i hope you enjoy <3

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“kiss me again, jihyo. i dare you.” you sigh in relief

“i want you to kiss me until i feel light headed. until i can’t breathe. until my body goes numb and i can’t feel anything else.” you pause briefly

“i need you to touch me. i want you to go as far as possible with me because i need this. i want you to make me forget about every other person i have been with.” you exhale, your chest moving up and down rapidly

and all jihyo does is look back at you, with a look on her face that’s just trying to figure you out

it doesn’t take long before you realize what jihyo’s thinking; does y/n want this? is this what you’ve been waiting for?

but jihyo doesn’t ask you anything

you’re always one step ahead, jihyo knows that you know the questions running through her own head

and jihyo knows your answer to those questions

“i want you, y/n” jihyo responds hurriedly

you smirk and lean in towards jihyo and capture her lips

and jihyo feels your smile tugging at the corner of your lips

as your shared kiss gets messier and deeper, jihyo moans in your mouth as your fingers run through her dark short hair

your hands move to the small of her back, grabbing her ass quickly before moving your hands to her hips

jihyo pulls away from your lips and moans in response

jihyo kneels on the bed hovering over you, leaning down slightly to get face to face

deciding to test the waters, jihyo pulls on your shirt to take it off

“fuck me, jihyo” you whisper to her, and she flashes you a grin

you giggle, kissing her hard before she pushes you against the bed

jihyo removes her soft pink plump lips from yours, moving down to your neck and your moans is all she hears

jihyo can’t help but notice how soft and beautiful your skin is, feeling as if she shouldn’t leave you with any marks

but still, she does it anyway. she kisses and sucks your neck repeatedly

when jihyo bites your neck in the midst of it all, you hiss

but not from the pain, but because you liked it. and jihyo knows it.

“fuck” you mutter quickly, your hands squeeze jihyo’s hips, as she continues to use her teeth

she pulls away from your neck to see all the lovebites she’s leaving you with

“you like that?” she purrs, giving small pecks to your neck

“mmhm” you moan, and jihyo faces you again, smirking before she grabs the hem of your shirt and takes it off

jihyo scoffs in amusement when she sees you’re not even wearing a bra underneath

she palms your breasts together, causing you to moan

when jihyo looks at you, you look back at her, and without saying anything she knows what you want

jihyo’s fingertips linger around your nipples slowly, before she starts kneading them with her fingers

you arch your back in response, and she smirks before reaching over to kiss your right breast

she kisses your left breast too, before taking it in her mouth

you squirm and whimper, arching your back once again, and jihyo takes it out of her mouth with a popping sound

you start bucking your hips against jihyo as she continues to play with your breasts, kissing and sucking them simply to hear the noises you make

“what do you want, huh?” jihyo says, as she moves her hand down to the hem of your pants, keeping her eyes on you

“touch me, jihyo. please.” you whimper, as she runs her fingers on your sides

she moves her right hand down your pants, “you want me to make you even more wet than before? hmm? to fuck you the best way that i can?” she whispers, giving you goosebumps

jihyo feels just how wet you are, and she smirks knowing it’s all because of her

she moves her fingers around your clit, before a series of moans escape from your lips

jihyo’s grin gets wider as her fingers move faster

you keep moaning, gripping the sheets and bucking your hips once again, “god”

jihyo stops momentarily to move her fingers down to your entrance, slowly putting 2 fingers inside of you

you hiss, before jihyo kisses you softly as a way to comfort you

pulling away, you nod your head, and jihyo curls her fingers, pumping them in and out of you

“say my name” she whispers in your ear, as you let out multiple moans

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you sit up suddenly in bed, small drops of sweat forming near your hairline

you look around the room to see netflix’s “are you still watching?” on your screen

beside you, is your best friend, jihyo, snoring next to you

she’s laying on her stomach, but she has one arm wrapped around your midsection

you take a deep breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead

you’re not surprised about the fact that you had a sex dream about a girl, but that the girl was jihyo….

jihyo, who you had rejected just a few hours ago because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship

and here you were, dreaming about jihyo doing inappropriate things to you

you thought that if maybe you put your feelings about jihyo aside, then it wouldn’t matter

but it mattered, because you found happiness and love, whether romantic or platonic, with jihyo

(you’re gonna have to revisit last night’s conversation with jihyo when she wakes up)

you lay back down facing jihyo, using your free hand to stroke her beautiful sleeping face

and you resist the urge to kiss her pink lips as your eyes close

#park jihyo #jihyo drabble #jihyo oneshot #jihyo x you #jihyo au #jihyo fluff #jihyo smut #wlw smut #jihyo imagines #jihyo fanfic #twice jihyo #twice x you #twice drabble #twice oneshot #twice fluff #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice au #twice x reader #twice #twice fanfic