#loved seeing this in my inbox then looking down at my keyboard to see the e and r keys right next to each other and just going 'hm' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iznsfw · 8 months

Note

Hey Iz! Just would like to say that I love how you show Eunbi as softie in your fics which makes me go back to them every now and then. Hope you could do more of Subby Eunbi.

Maybe Wife Eunbi in the future perhaps?

Home

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

11,834 words

Categories | wife!Eunbi, fluff, fluffy-to-rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, (is it really IZ who's writing Eunbi if there isn't) daddy kink, praise/degradation kink, choking, squirting, BREEDING

Here you go, thank you so much for the feedback + kind words. Fulfilled this request not only because it was sitting in my inbox even before I announced commissions, but also because it's her 28th. Still a baby 😭

Oh, and also because I feel like shit after reading "Birthday Blues." It makes me cringe and I feel like I could write her better than that.

Happy birthday to the best tokki! To celebrate, take a shot everytime Eunbi says "daddy."

You want to be anywhere but here.

When will it all even end? It's nighttime but the evening doesn't even try to compensate for the heat in the morning. Where’s the departure of warmth? Where’s the cool breeze that could dull your aching bones? You're starting to believe that the world’s doing this on purpose.

If it explains anything, since your hatred for the sun is so solid: your job requires more than a degree and a calculating mind, so you're out in the fire of the large star for more than a few hours at a time with sweat pouring down on you more than the light is. You still have sunburns from the first time you underestimated it and went out without lotion. Oh, and from the time you overestimated it and still ended up with dark spotting your skin anyway.

It’s no different than what other employed people your age go through, but it remains… tiring. You get up before dawn even has a chance to call itself one and come home when the night’s on the brink of turning into day. The workload always renders you weak, when it's all physical rather than something you can get over with a keyboard, but you force a smile on your face. It'll all be worth it when you come home.

Click your phone on solely to see your wallpaper. It's her, of course, with your daughter in her arms. Yep, they're the ones you call the loves of your life. You simply can't wait to come home.

Well, coming home is a hell of its own, but it's the trip that makes it so. Often, there's the usual road rage from student drivers too inexperienced to be granted the right to let it out, and of course, traffic.

That also renders you weak, if that’s anything that matters.

That's your current situation: stuck in a public bus in a concrete jungle ridden by vehicles. All the seats are filled with passengers of varying ages but the same exhaustion. That's the reason for your legs threatening to give up, and you wouldn't blame them. You barely had time to sit down for a break the whole day. Oftentimes, it results in your feet starting to quiver of their own accord, even when you lie down, as if still processing the strain it bore the whole day.

"Need a seat?" asks a man who's around the same age as you, but looks completely different. You wear a shirt stained with coffee and sweat; he’s dressed in a suit and pants. "Your legs are shaking."

At least, unlike the other men from offices you've met, he could read the room.

"Thanks," you say, smiling. You can't even muster politeness to refuse the offer when yes, your legs are shaking. Can't say "no, they just do that" or "ah, it's a talent."

"No problem, man." He returns the smile. He gestures a brow to your phone, which you didn't even notice was still on. "Not to pry or anything, but—"

You know who he's referring to. Chuckle and nod. "Yep, my wife."

My wife. The words echo in your mouth long after leaving. Just two words bring so much happiness crashing into your heart.

"Could have figured." He leans against the pole. "You smiled like hell when you looked at her."

Did you? Most likely. Glancing at her still gives you butterflies in the stomach. Whether from afar, on a screen, or in person, the girl always has you in a chokehold. (Not that she could choke anyone with a heart and height like hers, but it counts metaphorically, for you're down bad. Down crazy for her.)

"Well, she makes my day.” Pause. “I love her."

"She must be a good wife, huh?"

Look down at her and now you're acutely aware of the big smile on your face. "The best,” you affirm. “Just the best.”

It takes hours for you to get through the traffic, and by the grace of god above, you're only going to bear the last of it now. Can't fall asleep—you're nearly there. Your subdivision is coming up to view. Nice place, really, rather nice for a first home, and—

There. You get off the bus and thank the man. You had a nice talk with him, and you hope to have more. He pats you on the shoulder and bids you goodbye.

Then, you thank the driver. He doesn't bother to say that you're welcome or anything. Can't be mad at that. You've all had a rough day.

The arc of your subdivision welcomes you to the aisles of houses lined up. You're home, but not quite. It takes walking to and opening the door of the house you've worked for and being engulfed in the arms of the woman you love to be truly home. It's cliché, you know, but it isn't anything far from the truth.

Open the door to the world where you belong.

"I'm home," you say, because you are. This is home. You have coworkers and friends you love to hang out with, but nothing beats the comfort of being with your family.

Gently close the entry to the doorway so as not to alarm your daughter and wife with the jingle of the mobile. Or worse, disturb their sleep. You don't expect them to be awake; it's barely two hours to midnight.

But still, there she is.

Kwon Eunbi, the woman you gave your last name and your love to. The ends of her long dark hair brush over the sweater she shares with you, or rather, has stolen with how many nights it hasn't been used by you. Her pretty little face shows exhaustion, but also a smile. Of course, it's that adorable grin you'll never get enough of.

Her steps pick up a faster speed as she rushes to you with light feet. Open your arms, and she fills them, fills them with her small body and fills the air with soft whines of complaint. They're complaints that say: where were you? Why were you gone so long? Please be here forever. Baby? Please.

She really needed this hug from you, especially the lift. She needs someone to raise her up when she feels small. So, you sweep her off her feet. Automatically, her legs join behind your waist. Heavy lifting at work has paid off—your arms barely struggle when you carry her, or maybe it's just Eunbi being as light as a feather as usual.

Your heart aches at the hours she must have spent getting none of the help she needs from you. You nuzzle your nose to hers—if her whines speak of complaints, this act of yours tells her of your apologies.

"Hi there," you mumble through ruffles of her hair. She's still your baby girl after all this time.

"Hi," she says softly.

Press your lips to the crown of her head and pull her in tighter. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Putting your kid to sleep," she replies. Eunbi juts both of her lips out. "She's such a brat these days."

"Got it from her mother," you reply testily, letting go and setting her on the ground to raise her chin anyway.

"Don't be mean. I had a terrible day. I missed you so bad."

You feel bad now for teasing her. While you have your share of trials, it's Eunbi who spends most of her time attending to your daughter. It's Eunbi who goes day after day helping you out with chores and paperwork with little complaint. You really should choose the right time and place for your banter.

"I'm sorry, pretty. How can I make it up to you?"

"Let's watch a movie," she says hopefully. Her thumbs create gentle patterns on the sides of your head.

"A movie?"

"Yes. Just you and me."

That's how you end up on the sofa, with Netflix on and Eunbi with her head on your shoulder. Her thigh rests on yours, and if it weren't for her hair being the main focus of your fingers, you'd be caressing it.

"You want some water? A snack?" She snuggles up to you, as if you were her favorite pillow. It's as on the nose as it gets; Eunbi loves being close to you, having your body on top of hers and just feeling your touch.

You shuffle through movie choices with the remote. The posters come up to view one by one with each click. What should you watch tonight? Nothing else than the usual, but you still have to check.

That one. You give her a question with a look though you know she'll nod. It's her favorite, too.

"You don't have to do that for me," you tell her. She really doesn't. You're satisfied having her in the crook of your arm, with one of her beautiful legs thrown over your thigh. "Just enjoy the movie. You worked hard today."

"But so did you."

"It's fine, Eunbi, I promise."

Cup her jaw and squeeze those soft cheeks together. Her lips look particularly beautiful today. They're pouty, speaking wordlessly about something that's kind of like love. Love and other things. Love and things like virtues that you two aren't really required to follow when morality is common sense. Mostly. But Eunbi's a good person. A good wife. A good girl.

Lean in to kiss that flawless mouth. "Thank you for working hard."

"And thank you for coming home," she whispers quietly. Her gaze is soft. You could see your smile reflect in them.

It takes a strange soul, a soul that’s more than the right amount of grateful, to thank someone for being there. She says it everyday, a constant reminder of how loved you are. It’s weird to others to hear Eunbi say that while she sticks to your arm, but she’s your little oddity. She has been since the day you met her.

The film goes on and so does the familiar dialogue. You let out the occasional laugh—it’s still good with every watch. The characters say the same stuff, go through the same stuff, run through the same stuff yet you're on the edge of your seat. That's the thrill of rewatching favorite movies.

"You remember this one, babe?" Her pretty head angles, making her look more endearing. "I'll be so mad if you don't."

Her lips. Can't take your eyes off them. Brush your fingers on them, feeling their softness, and she giggles. "I do," you say truthfully, tipping her chin up, "but tell me anyway."

"Hmph. You just want me to tell you 'cause you forgot, right?"

"Please." Smile at her. "Pretty, why would I ever forget that night?"

She grins. It's maddening the way the ends of her lips tilt upwards to make her eyes small. All those flashy whites on display, she explains it to you.

"This was the movie we watched on our first date." She kisses your thumb that plays on her lip. Her eyes shine with the narration. "The Notebook."

That seems like so long ago, but it feels like just yesterday when you were nervously shuffling on your then sofa, with the most beautiful woman in the world right next to you. She was and still is so charming, those brows full and mouth always in a state of joy.

Rachel McAdams was your first crush, but Eunbi owns your heart. She has her position locked into the core of your chest for eternity.

"Y-you asked me what my favorite movie was," Eunbi says softly, stroking the back of your hand, "and you bought me chocolate and popcorn so we could watch it together."

Yep. You were broke back in those days, but you were also very young—that only meant you fell easily for girls with a pretty smile and a soft heart. You hadn't tripped anymore since then. When you fell for her, Eunbi stood you back up and gave you that sweet little smile again, then told you there was no more falling from here on out.

That was why you made ends meet and bought the chocolate you always saw her eat before she took tests. You even talked a cinema worker into letting you get two large buckets of cheese-flavored popcorn for a crashed price, just the way she liked it.

If there was a will, as they said, there was a way.

Things changed since then. You now had the money to go by and support your wife and Yujin, but your heart kept its strings hooked on Eunbi. She had knotted them to her little finger and never left you once.

Remembering these makes you chuckle. "I was a loser, wasn't I?" It's no meaningless self-deprecation—your college student self was down bad for her in ways you can't begin to describe. "I acted so stupid in front of you all the time."

"But I haven't had a guy that willing to be mine."

"Damn. I really am the best, huh?" You stroke her hair. Direct her face to the television screen but she looks back up at you anyway, and when she does you notice her eyes are full with love.

"You are,” Eunbi whispers. She wraps her arms around your waist. "You are."

Your heart beats positively with feelings of wholesomeness for the girl you're so lucky to have. She's amazing, and you feel so fortunate to have someone who loves you the same way you love her.

"Did I mention you were so cute?" you say with a laugh. "You cried while watching it even though it was like the millionth time, and that's—"

"—how we first kissed," Eunbi finishes. She covers her face, humiliated by how she acted in those youthful memories that come back. "You kissed me because I couldn't stop sobbing."

"Even back then you were a crybaby, huh?"

She sulks. "You know me. I'm very emotional. I was so upset and then more upset that when you kissed me I was all puffy and sniffly and—"

"Shhh." You pull her closer and kiss her head. "It was the best kiss I've ever had."

Eunbi looks down with a smile. Content with that, nods understandingly. You resume toying with her locks of ebony while the movie goes on.

You're watching an old favorite, yes, the one that got you and Eunbi linked by hand and eventually ring. It's special to you, a foundation of some sorts. But by the unfocused serenity in her eyes, you can easily figure that Eunbi didn't ask to watch it just for the sake of it. She wants more than alone time.

She wants you.

Halfway through the movie, the look in her eyes is still there. Hence, stringing her hair in between your digits, you ask, softly, "You didn't really want to watch something, did you?"

Eunbi's cheeks flush. Looking down shyly, she shakes her head. "No," she says in a small voice. "I mean, I did! But it was supposed to be like buildup so it can lead to the actual… you know, but…"

You smile. God, she's adorable. You love it when she gets so small. It's an everyday look on her, but it remains as sweet as the first time you had the privilege to witness it.

You lift her up seamlessly and place her on your lap. Notice that the shorts she's wearing live up to their name with how they taper just barely at the beginnings of her soft thighs. They hide beneath the sweater that's twice her size, making her look cuter than she already is.

"Oh, Eunbi." Your hands hug her waist. It doesn't take much to figure out what she really wants. There's only one thing those watery eyes could possibly desire. "You could have just told me."

Eunbi realizes this and starts to whine again. "I'm sorry. I—"

"No, no." Your finger on her lips, you hush her before she could blame herself. "Don't be, understand? Just tell me what you want."

You want to hear her say it, to hear her tell you just how much she needs you. She looks at you nervously, and you rub down her thigh to encourage her. It's what the two of you are made for: to push and pull, go forward and take a step back.

Eunbi stares at an odd spot on your shirt then sighs. "But you're so tired," she says wistfully.

"Listen: I never am for you. What is it?"

Silence full of hesitation and fear.

Then, a revelation.

"I want you to fuck me, daddy."

She could have said that nickname alone and you would've known what she meant.

Eunbi's stomach presses against you. Each knee of hers is beside one of your respective hips. She's swallowing, clearly nervous, but continues closing herself to you. She finds comfort in the warmth of your body, and your encouraging timed squeezes on her waist.

Her breathing grows sporadic with every grope. She tenses up, too, and it's no use massaging her to help her loosen up when you swear to god she gets tighter each time.

"Daddy…" she moans, lip trapped under her teeth.

"Pretty?" You kiss the collarbone that peeks from the curved neckline of the sweater. "What is it?"

"Please, hold me. Take me to bed."

"Of course I will."

She whimpers when you take her into your arms and carry her again. Her little arms curl around your neck as you take her to your bedroom with the assurance that your daughter is asleep. Wouldn't want her to see how she was made.

You lay Eunbi on the bed. Kiss her. You're hung up on every aspect of her—her neck, her jaw, her collarbone. All those places deserve kissing since she's so perfect. Such a good girl, in every little way.

But it's those lips that deserve yours. Her pink tiers are full and plump, and you dive into them gladly. Softness upon softness, you push her deeper into the soft resting place with how your lips ache to be engulfed with her.

Eunbi closes her eyes. She's floating in the clouds. Your straying touch is too good, and your lips are more so. They know where to kiss so that she's giggling and squirming, know how to kiss so that her breath is gone. She's shuddering beneath you, and you have got to hold her steady as her soft whines fill your ears.

"You're so good, daddy," she gasps. "Oh, ohhh. So so good."

"You're better."

Kissing Eunbi is always an ethereal experience. She's so eager and needy—she floats her back so her lips could clash deeper into hers and locks them so that they don't have anywhere else to go. Her hands are on the sides of your head, also locking it in place. You're going to be here forever, touching and feeling her.

You're okay with that.

"Not really," she says, shaking her head. She can't speak too well with your teeth nudging the skin of her neck. "Ah, I'm always so talkative and stuff and you have to listen. And you do, a-all the time."

"No no,” you tell her reassuringly. “I love hearing your voice, pretty. Mmm. Of course I would."

You're about to reach between her legs when you hear a soft bell sound come from your phone. Yujin's doctor? Your family? You don't know, but with the bell notification sound you reserved for messages from important people, it must be urgent.

"Hold on." Stop and get up regretfully. Wipe your forehead of the sweat that accumulated from the heat of the moment. "I have to answer this."

"Awh." Eunbi isn't afraid to speak out her concern, even in a pouty little whine.

"It'll be just a minute, I promise."

Ruffle her hair while checking your phone. Squint your eyes when you see that the notification is a text message from… Eunbi?

Open it. Then, your voice gets stuck halfway in your throat.

It's a video she sent. Just the thumbnail tells you this isn't just any video. The automatic run of the clip only proves that.

There, on your screen, Eunbi dances in your bathroom, a flimsy see-through cardigan stuck in a wet sheen on her body. The Burberry bikini stands out as it holds her heavy breasts. She's running her fingers down on her figure, eyes never disconnecting from the camera, as the spraying water runs down her legs.

The audio is a familiar sound to Eunbi. Deja vu connects two and two together, and soon her hands are on her face. Your smile extends to your ears.

"What's this, pretty?" You wrap an arm around her and guide her closer. Make her watch her sultry video. "Wanted to make daddy need you?"

"No… no, I'm sorry," she says meekly. Her eyes are all round and bright as they look up at you from behind curled fists. "I wanted to give you a gift, but then I thought it didn't go through since the internet got cut and—"

"You really thought to distract me at work? What if my coworkers see you on my phone putting on a show for me?"

"Daddy, I'm sorry."

Your next command is blunt, almost intimidating: "On my lap. Bent over. Now."

It's supposed to be a punishment, but Eunbi's face lights up. She nods and does as she's told: she folds that amazing body on your thighs like it always does at your beck and call. Lift the ends of the sweatshirt so that her lower body is revealed to you. Her pretty backside is subjected to firm squeezes.

"Wanted this for so long, right, Eunbi?"

You know her. You know she's been sexually frustrated all these weeks. You have been, too, but all these change today. You're actually going to work something out.

The calm before the storm: your meaningful gropes on her supple ass cheeks. Fuck, no panties. Eunbi's just been waiting for it to happen all day, the naughty girl. She's looking back at you in anticipation as if this were something other than a punishment.

"You waited, didn’t you? You wanted daddy to bend you over his lap and hit this perfect ass. I know you do." Your touch makes its rounds on her. "You're so fucking wet, too."

She nods. God, yes. She's been wanting this for so long. Working and caring for your daughter has held her up and left her deprived of your touch. You send shivers on her skin that's grown sensitive after weeks of no stimulation.

Then, it happens.

You raise your hand as high as it could reach, then throw it at the swells of her ass. Her cheeks bounce, a mesmerizing sight.

"Mmm, daddy," your wife purrs. Her backside blooms with red at your smacks. "That… that feels so good. Really good."

"You're a freak," you chuckle. Don't stop, though. Spank her again as hard as you could; she tosses her head back.

"Of course. O-oh my god." Her eyes float shut. "Fuck, yes, daddy. I'm so wet, I need you so bad."

"Do you now?"

"Yes. I want it, please."

"We’ll see. You wanna say you're sorry?"

"Sorry," Eunbi whispers, muffling her face into the mattress. Maybe she is. "Hnn. Sorry. Sorry."

"I bet you are. Count."

As time goes by, your blows on her ass grow harsher and she barely gets the numbers out of her mouth. You have a feeling she'll lose count along the way. She does. Of course. You've been with her long enough to know how she works, how she unravels.

For example: this spank guarantees sticky wetness on your fingertips.

It does.

Second: if you grope her tits right here, right where they rest above your thighs, she'll moan louder.

She does.

Third: if you tease your finger on her pussy, slightly rubbing her clit, she'll scream.

She—

"Daddy!" Eunbi sobs, rutting on your lap. "Fuck, fuck, why does it have to hurt so good? Daddy—"

"I said count, pretty," you reprimand her. As much as you love to hear how desperate she gets for you, the rules are clear.

"God, please…"

"I know I fuck your brains out until you can't think, but I promise you I'm not the almighty."

"So mean. So full of yourself. H-hnn—!" Eunbi retracts her ass from your hand once you deliver what would have been the final scolding slap if she weren't acting up. "Daddy, please don't stop."

She should be hating the idea of this when it's supposed to be a punishment. She should be quivering under your hand, promising to be a good girl, your good girl. Instead, she's sobbing, begging for more like the pain it brings is essential for her to breathe. Like if you don't slap and smack her rippling ass, she'd go weak.

She's weak with or without. Real tears leak from her eyes and her whines have reached the maximum point of need. You can feel her wetness on your lap.

"Count," you sneer. "From the top. I'll only ask again."

"Sorry. Hah. One."

"Bet you love this, don't you?" Slap her butt so it bounces in response. "Your cheeks are all sore and red for daddy now. But you want more. Why do you think you want more?"

She grows delightfully wetter. Your fingers stick with her juices.

"Oh," she whines, shutting her eyes. "Two."

"I think I know why. You're weak for anything daddy does to you. I could fuck you on the desk, fuck you in the waiting room at Yujin's school, and you'd be such a good girl. You'd be bending over letting me do it. Am I right, Eunbi? I think I am."

A waterfall starts from between Eunbi's legs at your words. She wants you to use her, to know that everything you said is right. She is a sucker for every little thing you want to do to her.

She has to take a breather before saying, "Three."

"I think I know something else, too: you just want to be daddy's pretty little girl. It's all you ever want that you'd let me kiss and fuck you dusk to dawn. You'd even let me smack your ass all day and make you weak at the knees. It would be a shame if you came just from this spanking. But I know you will."

She clenches yet she can't fight off your harsh blows and firm squeezes. She can't count that many! Her poor butt is red and aching. Stopping is not an option though, not when she's looking at you with watery bunny eyes full of want and denial.

"Aww, princess, gonna cum? You look so close. You're shaking so much. Are you gonna cry? Cry because you want to cum so bad? Then do it, Eunbi. Cum all over me."

She shakes her head. "W-won't, cum…" She purses her lips and squeals, trying to fight off what's already in store for her. "Won't… cum, da– daddy!"

It's the way she screams your name for help even if you're the one hitting her; the way she wails in your lap and remains there in spite of the spanks that follow each other at the heel; the way she screams out for you and a god that would have disapproved of what you two were doing. Eunbi kicks and struggles and spasms, actions ridden with tears. It's what drives your slaps to unfurl with a fury that you'd never dare do unto her if this setting were any different.

"Daddy, daddy! Ohh shit, please—"

Stuff your fingers into her small mouth and smack her rapidly. She screams and cries, clinging onto the last bits of sanity. You're too harsh with her. Shouldn't daddies be taking care of their baby girls? So why are you so mean?

And why is she loving it?

"Oh no." Palm her ass. Gently squeeze its round globes then kiss her neck. "My poor, pretty little thing. Who did this to you? Who made you so wet and needy?"

It's the mixture of mockingness and concern that has Eunbi trembling on your lap. You could be so kind yet so cruel to her. Seeking solace in the gentle circles your hand makes, she whimpers out, "You, daddy."

"That's right." Nudge your erection to her mound. "And who's making me this hard?"

"Me." As she says it, her ears turn pink. You've praised her so many times and still her face grows warm with self-consciousness.

"Of course. You're too fucking pretty. Want to sit on daddy's lap?"

"Yessss, please."

Eunbi wipes the tears from her eyes. Her legs are liquid, and you're required to help balance her when she stands up to sit down anyway on your legs anyway.

She curls her legs into your lap and raises her fingers to her lips. You're rubbing her arm and telling her you're here, yet another truth. You'll always be here for her, even when you get rough with her. Don't mistake it all for merely lust.

This is what home feels like.

Rock her for a while. Let her breathe. Carefully brush away a stray tear and kiss the place it used to reside.

"I love you," you tell her. "I love you to death."

"I love you, too, daddy," she whispers. "My daddy."

She's trembling. You furl her into your arms more tightly and press your mouth to her hair. She pushes herself deeper into your touch appreciatively.

With her hands returned on her lap like the good girl you made her and eyes tearful, she looks so cute. She looks like the girl who's exactly the type to get on your thigh and let you do whatever you want to her, and it couldn't be more accurate. She's perfect.

"Pretty girl, pretty girl. Eyes up here."

Eunbi's sniffling quietly, and you run your hand up and down her back to calm her sobs. She redirects her focus. She's obedient now, following all the rules.

You ask, gently, "Need to breathe?"

"I'm okay, daddy," she says. She leans against your chest. "Thank you."

You nod. That's your go signal. Your green light.

So, your touch traces from her shoulders to under that big sweatshirt. Right there between those fantastic legs. The spanking left her weak and wet. Just a few rubs make you hear the slick sounds.

You feel her then, right there on her drenched core. She tenses up again. Her legs close yet you part them to gently, gently tease her nub. It only goes up and down like that but she's already quivering again.

That draws a gasp out of her. She looks at you, swallows, then closes her eyes tightly as you continue. Only soft whimpers squeeze past her lips. She's taking it all with such resilience that you're actually amazed.

"That's it. So pretty and good for me. Maybe I should reward that, don't you think?"

Eyes still closed, she nods. Excellent. Test her limits with poking a single finger into her waiting pussy.

That's how her eyes end up fluttering open. You finger her fast and hard, making the poor girl have to go through another bout of harshness. She's enjoying it in spite of it all; her pretty pussy just clenches perfectly around you, ever so wet.

"Daddy." She says this with urgent breaths. "Daddy? Need you." Then her voice gets higher. "Daddy, please—p-please—"

"I'm here, hon," you say, reassuring her as you toy with her cunt. Her legs shake, but you carry on. "What does Eunbi want me to do?"

You're blocking her thoughts from forming. She lifts herself up and grinds blindly, but she knows she has to answer. She knows she has to tell you something, because that's what good girls do, right? And Eunbi's exactly that: your good girl. Your good, sweet little girl.

Oh, but she can't, she can't. She can't answer it when your fingers are all the way inside her, constantly shoving and pulling strings of moistness out of her. She turns to you and opens her mouth, but she never gets to say anything.

It continues like this for lengthened moments, with Eunbi barely holding on and squirming on top of you, and your fingers neatly sheathing and unsheathing from her pussy. Her vulnerable expressions show that she can't talk or act properly—all she can do is moan and squeal and beg.

It isn't a fair game. Recognizing this, you kiss the side of her head and propose, "Let's make this easier, pretty."

And you make it anything but. You spread her legs and press her back snug to your arm. From there, you keep fingering her. Aim to ruin all the resistance in her pussy. Impossible; she's too damned tight.

"Where would you like me to touch you?" you ask. "Your tits?"

Reach up under her clothes to feel her up. Squeeze her breasts. She squeezes up once more and sobs a little. The breaths leave her nostrils sharply when you start to grope her.

"Mmm." Eunbi nods, but still looks unsure.

"Your thighs?"

Rub them down. They're always so meaty and soft. She purses her lips and nods at that, too.

"Or your ass?" you ask with a wicked grin.

Take one finger out of her and instead lead it to her asshole. Tap it teasingly. She scurries her butt into your hands.

"It could be anywhere, Eunbi. Just tell me."

Eunbi nods. But she needs to enjoy this for now. She lets you fuck her with your digits before settling for a decision.

She touches your mouth with a quivering finger. "I need your mouth on my pussy, daddy," she says. "Please? I'll be careful not to hurt you, I promise."

You stop fingerfucking her. Place her gently beside you. Then, you move upwards before staying right below the headboard of your bed. Your back is flat on the mattress.

"No need to be careful," you tell her. She could break your neck and you wouldn't care. "Just come here and sit on my face."

Your blunt words make her blush. But she crawls up and spreads her legs. You're there to appreciate her beautiful legs and her shaven, pink little pussy. She looks down at you with concern, but you tap her thigh reassuringly.

Convinced, Eunbi places herself gingerly on your mouth. The first contact is effective in breaking her again for she lets out a vulnerable little moan and raises her hips again, only to sit back down on you.

As expected, Eunbi tastes like everything sweet, everything beautiful. You slide your tongue up and down between her pussy lips, then flick it on her clit. She cries out, her hands instinctively going for your hair. But she remembers her promise to be careful. She's forced to have to bite on the back of her hand.

You make it more difficult for her. You love keeping her on her toes. Rest your hands on her thighs—her thick, full thighs—and pull her down. You don't care if she'll suffocate you; you'd give anything to have her reeling and crying. Her legs squeezing your head is your reward for eating her out so well.

"Daddy," she hiccups. She seals herself on your head and freezes due to the pleasure. "Feels so good, keep doing that, please."

How could you deny her of anything? She tastes so sweet and whines so prettily that you have no other path to go down than the way to eating her pussy harder.

Kiss her labia lovingly, a teaser for the main thing, which is slipping your tongue all the way into her tight hole and circling it inside her. Waste no time in licking up and down, appreciating her folds.

Her body barely weighs down on you. She remains afraid of hurting you, and you have to grip her hips to keep her down. Soon, it becomes a game of lifting and chasing, as if her cunt were a distant dream you only wish to attain.

You're determined though. Too determined for a dreamer. Your hands caress her fit ass to ease the pain your spanks induced and you reach deep inside her to trigger more juices into your mouth.

"Please, please, please—" Eunbi's voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands. She doesn't even know what she's begging for now. All her thoughts have vanished. You're dumbing her down into a shaky, squirting mess who needs only her daddy's mouth.

She's carefully grinding down on you, keeping herself slightly aloft so as not to crush you. But you insist on the opposite; you tug her down and seize her clit between your lips. Start to suck, hard.

She's not so careful anymore.

"Daddy!" Her pussy crashes down on your face and begs for more of you, begging you to draw her needs beneath and fulfill it.

Of course, you give in. You torture her clit with sucks that transcend control, keeping it latched tight between your lips, and grab your wife's hips to scurry her downwards. She can't go anywhere now.

"Oh—oh no, daddy," she gasps, her fingers curling around the headboard like ribbons, "don't do that! Don't do that, I'll cum!"

That's exactly your intention. Pulling down her thick thighs so that her pussy covers your face, you let your tongue dance and glide everywhere on her eager little core. Eunbi screams. Tears pour down her face as her juices spill down on you. You lap her nectar up the best you can, but some still slide on your chin, as well as the sides of your face. You make up for the lost drops and instead go for those that are dripping directly from her cunt—yes, this will make you a god. Feels accurate when you’re already in paradise with Eunbi’s legs around you and her screams filling your ears like prayer.

"Daddy, slow down a little!" Eunbi yells. Her thighs crush your head while her hips cringe to and fro. She purses her lips before letting out a feral cry. "Daddy!"

You follow up with a few last licks at her sensitive clit. Eunbi's out of breath, but you're not, despite being held captive by her thighs just a few seconds prior. That's why your lips still find her pussy, bringing it to complete weakness, cornering its sensitivity and preying on it. Eunbi sobs, wrists on her face, as you continue violating her pussy. You're never leaving it unattended.

"Daddy," she says tiredly. "Oh, daddy, too much, daddy—"

The natural flood of her orgasm overflows. You tap on her thigh encouragingly and open your mouth to taste her. "Yes, yes, that’s it, you’re so fucking delicious. Daddy loves when you cum on his face. Come on, baby, come on, my good girl."

Eunbi's legs give out. She moves away from your head in order not to hurt you and collapses on your bed. Her whole body is aquiver.

"Daddy," she calls out for you. "Daddy, please."

"You're alright, baby," then trail your thumb along her chin and jaw; guide her with demonstrations and soft words, "take a deep breath."

The overstimulated girl quivers and mewls.

"You're alright," you say. Kiss that forehead that's recently been covered with a cute fringe, and then kiss her mouth. "My pretty girl's alright. Daddy loves you."

It's a reminder that you'll make again and again without getting tired. Eunbi's so lovely that you want to make her know she's safe with you, that she's loved.

Her reply is expected but relieves you anyway. "I love you, too, daddy."

Her breath catches as you kiss her. It's messy, torrid, too, when her hands hook into your head with a touch that's weak yet worshipful.

“Mmm, my daddy, my only daddy.” She kisses you sloppily, almost drunkenly. One thing leads to another, and your hands are on her hips to lead her on your lap again. Her breathy bedroom voice turns you on so much. “I love you. Daddy, I love you so much.”

"Just wanted to taste yourself on my lips, didn’t you?” you ask. You see right through her.

She blushes. There's your answer.

“No problem with that. You taste delicious. Here.”

Swiping up a line of slick from her delicate pussy, you guide your slick fingers into her mouth. She latches onto them and holds your wrist in place as her sweet mouth seeks to taste everything.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "Love you. So good to me."

This is what paradise is. Eunbi's broken words spill from the sides of her mouth while she licks her cum off your fingers. Her eyes are closed, deep in worship for you. What a worst time to be religious. After having just spanked her and eaten her delicious pussy, she has no place to be saintly. Sacrilege at best.

But you let her, since she's so good. Such a good girl for you.

"You’re good to me, too, pretty." The nickname has not once left your mouth with how it fits her so much. The bangs she sports and those naturally full, pouty lips make her the most beautiful woman in the world. "Since you're such a thankful princess, you deserve to cum again. You want to cum again?"

"Really? Daddy? Daddy, you'll let me cum again?"

"You don't want to?"

"No, no, I want. I want it." Eunbi nods her head and looks up at you with desperation. "Make me cum again."

"So demanding," you reprimand her. "Guess you don't want me to go through and worship these?"

Reach up behind her and touch her right where everyone expects you to: her large, round tits. They're what everybody looks at, and it honestly makes you feel a little possessive. But you always are reminded of how right they could be. They look so full even behind thick fabric.

"Daddy!" They're also where she's most sensitive. She lets out tiny squeals all while you're having your wicked way pinching the pink tips.

"Ohh, you like that, huh?" You squeeze; she locks her legs together and whines. "Makes you want to scream for me? Scream and yell like a needy little girl?"

You know how this goes. Given the sensitivity on her breasts, she'll whine out and beg more than she would if you touched her anywhere else. She'll probably even cum on the spot like she did when you spanked her. There's a common factor here, you think. Gotta place what that is.

Eunbi's eyes water and she says, "Daddy, please. I need you, don't be mean to me."

Found it. It’s you. Not to be narcissistic and everything, but it’s definitely you.

"Alright. Take your clothes off. Want to see how pretty you look under all of them."

She lifts her shirt up. Your mouth waters. Each bit of her perfect, curvy body is uncurtained—the flat of her tummy, the curves of her hips, the undersides of her breasts. Then her breasts themselves. The deep cleavage has your eyes coming out of their sockets, along with the massive recoil they do as they're released from the hem.

Her hair is messier now. The neckline and fabric did a number on them. The fringes are all over the place.

Laugh fondly. Meanwhile, you straighten her bangs. "You alright there, pretty?" you say.

"Mhm," she hums, giggling, too, albeit shyly. Then her eyes turn needy, their glimmer unmistakeable. "Please?"

You push her down gently on the pillows, pinning her back to the blankets. Her long hair is in a disarray behind her as you kiss her body. The flat of her tummy tenses when you press your lips there. What really gets her moaning, however, is your mouth on her tits. Her beautiful, perfect tits.

Press them together with a hard squeeze. Run your tongue on one of the hard nipples. She sharply gasps, looking down at your sinful little doings. You gaze back up at her with unwavering eye contact as you suck on her nipple as you did to her clit.

Same effect. She's whining again.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy—"

You've lost count of the many times she's said that.

You don't mind adding a lot more to the list.

"What is it, baby?"

Eunbi makes her desires known through bated breaths and little moans. "Now,” she says. “Inside me. Please."

It takes no time taking your pants and briefs off. It is painful, though; your cock is a rod solid and lengthy for the idea of fucking your wife after all those weeks of being held back. Her naked body waiting for you just tempts you even more. Her legs are spread, her face radiates need, and her pussy is dripping wet. You know she wants you the same way you want her.

So why hold back?

You can’t hold back your feral pump nor your groan either. Slipping inside Eunbi’s warm, drenched pussy is like reminiscing a wild memory. Her grip brings you back to all the times you’ve made love to her, right on this bed, until she curled up and begged you to go faster. It makes you promise to give it to her this time hard and fast, the way you know she likes it.

Give her every inch, then take them back. Give them again. Withdraw. You choose this cycle and Eunbi couldn’t love it more. You have to battle with the tightness her pussy inflicts all the time, and it’s both a pro and a con with how it hugs your length and caresses it with the texture of her walls while refusing to let you in. You can see Eunbi’s face twist as she tries to relax, but each part of you that she’s fed, she ends up tightening and moaning again.

“You’re fucking me s-so well,” says Eunbi strainedly. Her fingers sink into the sheets as she trembles with your unforgiving thrusts. “I missed this so much.”

You did, too. You missed controlling Eunbi sexually, having her weak and on her knees. You missed the comfort of her warm little hole that’s always skilled in its job of milking you dry. It’s still strong and exceptional in its talent.

Eunbi’s noises are loud and unbridled. She always drones on and on, something that makes her cuter than she already is, and there’s no difference in the bedroom. She moans and talks about how amazing it feels, how you’re penetrating her perfectly. And all the same, you love hearing her.

“So fucking tight,” you say. You just have to drive your hips upwards, to send her rocking to and fro. “Take it all, okay? I know my pretty girl can do it. She’s the perfect thing for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

Eunbi’s ears grow pink. She nods, because that's another thing that’s true. She is your perfect girl, your only girl you’d take at night. Your husky words of praise go at odds with how you’re fucking her, with her ass up in the air and her legs in your hard touch, but it turns her on so much that she’s willing to do anything—anything for you to go on and have your way with her.

And have your way with her you do. You push yourself past her pussy lips and let them hug the sides of your length after you fill her up entirely. Her cunt pulsates, and it drives you to drop the whole of your hips in between her legs, flicking past her G-spot.

“M-mmm!” Even with just a hum, Eunbi stutters. Your hands on her tits kneading and tightening make her lose all common sense. Coupled with your cock ruining her insides, she can’t think straight.

She doesn’t have to when you’re here to catch her. You’ll think for her so she’s allowed to lie back. Right now, you’re thinking of completely ruining her.

“Oh, oh my god, daddy,” she says the moment you thrust up into her with more precise strokes. She looks down at your cock swiftly drilling her. "That's—so—ffffuck!"

Eunbi begins to curl up, the heat overtaking her, but you spread her legs. Force her to take you by stuffing her cunt even more. Her tightness grows and soon she's yelling, almost in an episode of frenzy.

You're humping her like you need it as much as you would water and food, without care for how much you're digging her into the blankets or how much she screams. There's only one thing you want and that is to be buried all the time in her sweet little pussy. You can tell that it's what she wants, too—her hips gyrate, weak yet determined, and she's filling the room with her screams.

"Yes, yes, yes." She places a hand over the back of your own that's on her breast. "Fuck me, hurt me, d-do whatever you want with me, I'm just your pretty girl—daddy, don't stop, please!"

To hear her talk about herself so lewdly and feed your mind with the idea that you could do anything to her makes you force your groin up and slam her legs on your shoulders. Fight against the resistance of her pussy, slap her bouncing thighs, push only forward to fill her up.

"I promise, Eunbi, I'm not stopping," you say, a new oath made. You lean in darkly and stare right into her eyes. They're that of a prey's; she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're squirting and crying, and I know that's what you want, right? To have daddy make you cum like he always does?"

"Yes, faster, please!"

"Fuck." You pause, and before she could complain, you place a hand on her throat and push her down. "Then you're gonna fucking get it."

She's talked to you about this before. She's proposed to have you pin her down and choke her, shyly saying it with a cutesy plea to her words, but you always refused. You didn't want to go too far. Now, however, you give her what she wants:

Close your hand around her neck. The look on her face is immaculate—her eyes are wide with both bliss and thrill, and her mouth is open. For the first time, she doesn't make any noise. She's letting it all out in a silent, withheld scream.

Squeeze. She gasps. There's a river of wetness inside her; it flows freely and limitlessly, pouring onto your shaft and the sheets.

"God, pretty," you say lowly. "Your pussy gets so tight when I choke you. Like you want me to keep choking you until you beg and beg. What's with that now? I thought you wanted me to be gentle."

Your hips don't stop; they're almost invincible. They don't tire of pistoning in between her legs. And Eunbi doesn't get tired of squeezing, of crying. Her whole body's in desperate heat, and you're the bad predator giving in to it. You’re using her, violating her—and she’s sprawled out taking it all, loving each second of it.

You firmly pinch her nipple. Her frozen, desperate look is broken with her loud scream. Its volume is tightened when you curl your fingers harder into the flesh of her neck. That's the neck you've kissed before, when she wanted to make love and when she needed a hug—it's so out of character for you to suddenly be using it in depriving her of a breath she so desperately needs.

“What? Can’t speak?” you say. Words say themselves without your mind registering them first. Even so, Eunbi clings to each and uses them to roll her core harder into your erection. “Is daddy choking you too hard? You’re so fucking wet from me doing it, pretty. I should do this more to you. I’d fucking keep you here and choke the hell out of you.”

Oh, the fantasy is tempting. You imagine calling a day off from work, as hard as it is to register for one, and using it to fuck your wife in all the corners of the house. With Yujin at school and the schedule empty, you could fill her pussy with cum and have her bent in all the best positions, each done with your hand on her throat. By the helpless look on her face, you know she loves the idea, too.

“Yes, daddy!” she screams. Those are your words of affirmation. Her gasps for air leave her more often, yet you keep your hand pinned to the base of her neck. “More, I need more, please give me more!”

“Look at you. You’re crying so hard. I can feel your throat pulse. You need to breathe so bad. But you want daddy’s cock more. What should I give to you then, huh, baby?”

“M-make me cum! Make me cum instead, daddy, I don’t need anything else!”

You could do that. It’ll happen anyway. She’s far too tight for one person to handle, backfiring on her so much that it drags her closer to the edge. And you’re pushing her with each thrust, with no offer of rescue.

“Such a spoiled little girl,” you tut, leaning in to bite her ear, “but so fucking pretty.”

Pretty girls like her, no matter what they do, deserve to cum. Swing yourself deep in between the hanging pillars of her legs and cum she does. Mouth open and on the cliffs of desperation and submissiveness, she lets out a squeezed scream. Her fist is firm on your wrist, making sure it doesn’t leave her throat as the thrill of the danger makes her cum harder than she thought she would.

Finally, your hand loosens. She gasps. Her wonderful chest rises and falls, air finally entering her lungs. Her head feels light; it’s the most gratifying experience she’s had in a while.

It’s the same for you. Maybe the sexual frustration that accumulated over the weeks was a good thing. You let it all out on her and now you’re throbbing.

“Daddy?” She’s a survivor of a storm who just emerged from the flood of lust.

“Yeah?” You soothe her, like you always do whether after sex or when she’s overwhelmed. “You want anything?”

“Think… you need to look at the time.”

“Let me run you a bath first, please, baby?” You lean down and kiss her forehead, rubbing the space on her chest where her heart beats fastly. It worries you, and for a moment you wonder if you should ever do this again. She’s catching her breath and failing. “You’re so worn out.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, daddy, listen to me, please?” She closes her eyes to collect her composure that was lost after and while you fucked her.. “Look at the time.”

“It’s…” You steal a look at the digital clock sitting on your bedside table. It’s sometime after twelve midnight. “Midnight.”

“And you, haah, know what that means, right? Right?”

“It’s…”

It hits you. The knowledge infiltrates your brain and suddenly all lust is gone. Your heart’s only filled with feelings of affection for the girl you’re incredibly lucky to share your love and home with. You welcome her into the depths of your embrace.

“It’s the twenty-seventh,” you murmur. “Your birthday.”

Your own heart starts to beat faster at the thought. Eunbi’s just spent another year with you, another year with Yujin. Your family grows everyday with love, and it brings you more satisfaction than your job could.

You look at Eunbi. Observe her sharp nose, beautiful hair, and lips that are always calling out for you. You realize in that moment that you can’t be more grateful that she’s the girl you married. There are plenty of girls out there who might have wanted you, but your heart doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to her, your wife. Your princess.

“Happy birthday.” Stroke her hair and gently tuck it behind a red ear. “Baby girl, I’m so grateful to have you, you know?”

She flushes. Eunbi loves that you’re always there to tell her she means something. “Thank you.”

You ought to do something special for her. She works so hard and loves so hard that it’s only right that her birthday is special. But your ideas are simple, and you decide to just let her choose. Anything she wants, you’ll give.

“What do you want us to do today?”

Eunbi takes a moment to inhale, then opens her eyes. She’s never looked more sure. Though her voice is weak, it holds conviction.

“I want us to stay here in this bedroom, daddy.” She clasps your hand and places it from her face to her pussy. “I want you to fuck me harder. I want you to do it until I can’t feel my legs.”

Your eyes widen. She’s never been this upfront. It’s rare to see that firm look in her irises.

“Then…” Eunbi pauses although she knows what to say next. She knows what she wants from you. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”

The silence from your end is lined with shock. You can’t say anything—your words are lost in the ends of your mouth due to the feeling of Eunbi’s slick, hot pussy under your touch. She’s as wet as she was before. She obviously wants more.

“You didn’t cum yet,” she explains. She grinds your fingers on her lacy, wet core, and whimpers at how hot it feels post-orgasm. “So when you do, I want it all here. Right here. It’ll fill me up so much that I might get pregnant.”

It’s been a while since you released inside Eunbi. You’ve always taken special care to practice safe sex, even unprotected. You’ve let her swallow your cum instead or unloaded into a rolled condom. Now, the offer she’s making—of bearing you another child, of letting you give her another little joy to take care of—has you speechless. Would she really let you?

“You’ll do it for me, right?” Eunbi rolls on top of you, her amazing body pressed to your skin. Although she’s above you, she couldn’t be more of a submissive, needy girl. Each limb of hers strains to be touched and controlled. There’s a reason she wants you as her birthday present. “You’ll pound me full of cum and drill it all into my womb, all so I could be your pregnant birthday girl?”

“Pretty…” you say, not knowing what else to tell her. Hesitation curls around your mind and body. You’re not totally convinced she’s sure about this.

Her large eyes are wanton with lust and her lower lip’s sealed beneath those teeth. She nods, happy that you finally responded.

“Yes, yes, that. You always call me pretty, daddy, and… I really like it. But can you imagine how much prettier I could be if you gave me your baby? My tits would look even bigger, and they’d be so sensitive that if you sucked them, I’d cum on your lap instantly.”

How do you breathe again?

“And when people ask me about us, I’ll be the good wife at your side, standing there and saying I’m just so happy to have my daddy’s baby.”

The thought of Eunbi shaking as you overstimulated her by just playing with her nipples makes you warm on the inside and out. Additionally, that image she painted of herself: the silent girl, the pretty wife beside you who’s full with a baby and wearing a smile so innocent it deceives people of what she wanted today—it makes you feral. Not even warm or hot, just the pure carnal desire to knock her up.

“And you know what else, daddy?”

“W-what?” Now you’re the one who feels like they were just left in a chokehold minutes ago. Your mind just runs with ideas of fucking her senseless.

“They’re going to think we planned it all along. But no; what they don’t know is that it was by chance. That Eunbi asked for it suddenly, and you gave in. You gave her creampie after cream—”

Well, you could say that you’re easily convinced.

Eunbi’s prone when you switch positions, quickly taking back your lost power and pinning her back down. You press her legs together and push them down; she peeks from behind them, thrilled to see what you would do after she successfully riled you up. Obviously, you don’t give it to her just yet; you set your cock on her splayed pussy lips and start to grind down on her.

“Thirsty brat,” you tell her. You tighten your squeeze on her ankles so she remains still while you hump her, but never really giving her the real thing. Groan; even without penetrating her, she feels wet and hot. “When did pretty become such a bad girl?”

Her clit throbs and you do, too. Why are you lying to yourself and acting like you don’t want to dick her down?

“Bred, bred, bred. Need to be bred.” Eunbi’s lower body rolls. She’s panting. “Need to feel your big cock inside me.”

Fuck, you’re gonna give in anyway. You say: “What’s the magic word?”

Eunbi swallows. You think you’ve seen that before. She was underneath you that time, too. “Please, daddy.”

The magic word is “please,” but if she says your favorite name with that, there’s a hundred percent chance she’ll get what she wants. She increases the chances with her downturned little mouth and her hands folded together. You don’t know if you should cuddle or fuck her. That’s your daily dilemma with Kwon Eunbi.

“Ahhh, so big!”

Her shout of pleasure is instant, and it continues with the rhythm of your pumps. You don’t bother creating a buildup—it’s her birthday; she’ll get what she wants. And you know that Eunbi likes it rough and hard. Don’t mind the bruises and spots of red on her skin and ass; it’s what she craves more than anything.

You do, too. But this experience is more gratifying because you actually get to stay inside her hole when you cum. Your seed would go straight to her womb, and everyone would know that it’s you who made her pregnant. Moan at that concept which gives strength to your muscles to keep pushing, keep thrusting, keep bringing you to orgasm so your wife, who you’d do anything for, would get what she wants.

You make sure each thrust you inflict on Eunbi’s fertile body hits her cervix, a prophecy of what’s to come. She groans helplessly—her knuckles turn white as they grip the fabric beneath her that’s sure to be stained with both of your juices. Who cares, though? It would be a constant reminder of the night you made Eunbi’s birthday wish come true. It would be a memory of what brought your future child into the world.

“I want it deep, daddy!” gasps Eunbi. “So deep that I can’t feel anything, daddy, harder, please!”

She knows the power in her begging and how easily you fold for a girl like her. You’d give her another spanking for that, but you give her a punishment she benefits from anyway: rougher thrusts that slap your balls to her spanked ass.

But she’s the birthday girl. So you fulfill her desire and drive yourself into her core until your balls aren’t just slapping her ass anymore but are pressed firmly to her crotch.

“Oh yes! Just like that!” Eunbi levitates her back off the creaking cushions and screams. You’re starting to fear she’ll wake Yujin. Good thing she sleeps like a log. “Pound me, cum inside me!”

It seems like there’s degrees of roughness you haven’t reached yet. Your thrusts grow in speed and harshness as time goes by, and the strength is limitless. Although you’re only doing the same thing which is fucking Eunbi in hopes of breeding her, your tempo doesn’t stay the same. It hits her with a force impelled by lust, pushing the sins deeper inside her that it starts to corrupt her, too.

Your balls are heavy with an impending load. Slapping her thighs, you momentarily part them so you could rub her clit side to side, the way you know she’s weak for. Eunbi’s expression changes into bliss to paradise itself—her tightness chokes your length from head to base.

"God fuck!" Eunbi lets out a spray of wetness as her body thrusts upwards. "Cumming!"

Oh she’s cumming alright, but she’s also squirting. There’s no time to weep over not putting a towel beneath her; you’re stuck watching Eunbi’s pussy become soppier while it releases a messy jet of girl cum. You marvel at how more comes out if you give it to her harder.

Ever the crybaby even in sex, tears start to fall down in little droplets down her red cheeks. They source from all three: pleasure, pain, overstimulation. It’s destroying her and yet she relishes each hit.

“Do it now, please, it’s too much! Breed me now—c-can’t—take—it!”

Shove yourself to the depths of her and unload. Your wife exhales repeatedly. There’s so much of your sticky load that it overflows inside her hole and creams her outer lips. Push yourself further and pull her legs up so it’s all guaranteed to go to her womb.

“Like this, pretty? Your pussy’s gonna take every drop, right?” Even in your craze of lust you could hear yourself weakening.

The cum that shoots into her never seems to stop.

“Yes, so much,” Eunbi moans quietly. Her arms are limp beside her. As her consciousness dies, her orgasm lives on. “Breed me, daddy, ohhh… breed me… breed… me…”

Yujin’s thick black hair, all inherited from her mother, looks perfect today. What makes it more satisfying is that those braids running down her head and the cute pigtails were fixed by you.

“Wow, it’s so perfect!” Your daughter admires herself in the vanity mirror and grins up at you. “Thank you, papa!”

Her young yet advanced vocabulary makes you chuckle. As you hear it, you realize you can’t wait until she grows up and starts to talk even more beautifully, like the words she takes from the books you always see her nose buried in.

It’s 7:00 AM, and Yujin’s bus is about to come to the driveway. You’re lucky to have finished fixing her hair on time. That’s partly why you reciprocate the smile. The main reason is that your daughter manages to chip away your tiredness and make it all worth it.

“Of course, Yujin,” you say. “Be good at school, okay?”

“I always am, papa!”

Your daughter always carries this confidence wherever she goes. You’re glad you and Eunbi raised her properly so she isn’t doubtful of herself. She’s going places—the girl’s only six yet she speaks and multiplies better than you can. Not that you’re embarrassed; it makes you more proud of her.

“And behave for your mommy, okay? It’s—”

“—her birthday!” she finishes giddily. Yujin never forgets anything, especially birthdays. She just celebrated hers a month ago. “Can I greet her?”

Pause. Has Eunbi recovered or is she laying there getting off to what happened? “Maybe later?” you say, hoping not to sound suspicious. “Mommy’s… just having a sleep-in day. Just make her a card or write her a poem when you come back home.”

“Okay!” Yujin replies. She turns her head to the yellow bus peeking at the semi-circular window of the door. “Bye, papa!”

You tell her the same. Wave goodbye to her. You make sure she gets on the bus before turning away. Time to attend to your other princess.

Usually, you’d spend time admiring your house as you walk to wherever you need to go. You’re proud of the bookshelves and design, but today is a day different from all the others. You only have one clear vision the moment you open the door of your room with your wife.

She’s sound asleep. Her little body’s curled up under the comforter and her head is nestled in the hood of the zipperless jacket you changed her into the night before. She looks so adorable in it that you want to just take her into your arms and bite her cheeks. You have strange instincts when it comes to seeing your wife, who could switch between being a sexbomb to a girl you’d protect any time of the day.

Unlike Yujin, she’s a light sleeper, for she catches your footsteps seconds before you crash down into the mattress with her.

“Daddy?” she asks sleepily. She reaches for you. You catch her hand.

“Too early for that, isn’t it?” You smile into her hair anyway. “Good morning, pretty. Happy birthday.”

The nickname isn’t sexual anymore. It’s a pet name now, a call for you to take care of her. And you do your duty well, gathering her into your touch and keeping her protected from the cold.

Eunbi says her thank you, then blinks.“Y-Yujin, she still has to dress—”

“I took care of it.” You gently guide her back down in your arms. “She's on the bus.”

The panic dissolves from her face. She turns around to hug you back. All she says is contained in a little whisper: “Thank you, daddy.”

She throws a knee over your hip and ushers you to herself. As expected, to be honest. Eunbi loves all forms of affection, especially the physical kind. So you give her all of it: a kiss, a tighter embrace, a touch that wanders but not too far. Like you said, it’s too early.

Eunbi hums into your neck. “I’m so happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. You make me happy.”

“You just want to get bred again,” you joke. Kiss away the pouty look on her face. “I’m kidding. You make me happy, too, pretty.”

What you say is nothing short of the truth. Eunbi fills your life with purpose. You wake up and keep doing so to make sure she has someone. You work so she’s well provided for, even if she has her own job herself. You come home so that the nights aren’t lonely. You know a lot of men who couldn’t say the same about their relationship with their wives.

You’re happy to be the different one for once. You’ll always love Eunbi. Even after you die, you’d be looking out for her, if there ever is an afterlife.

“You and Yujin are the most important people to me,” you tell her.

“Well, after you bred me…” Eunbi smiles slyly. “There’ll be another important person in your life, daddy.” A pause. “Maybe we’ll name them Wonyoung?”

You shrug. You don’t know. But then you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her. You act on it, pecking her. It turns into something deeper, and soon you’re on top of her again, rendering her whining once more.

As you kiss Eunbi, you realize that there’s no sure path to the future. But all you know is that you’ll stay with her along the way, and that you’re excited for all the good things to come.

#kpop smut #female idol smut #idol smut #girl group smut #soloist smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut #izone eunbi smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #pov smut #request #smut

1K notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’d love to see this prompt with Steve

36. “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

Maybe like a friend (people send nudes to their friends before they send it to a guy, right?) who’s name starts with S and reader accidentally send it to Steve instead. He’s always had a thing for her and after his reaction she forgets all about whatever douche canoe she was going to send it to before.

I wanted to write this as soon as I got in in my inbox! I need a little Steve in my life right now.

18 PLUS NO MINORS

Warnings: Modern!Steve, Thin rimmed glasses Steve 🫠, Sexting, Nudes, Dirty Talk, Masturbation.

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6K

The vibration in Steve’s pocket was so loud in the quiet meeting room that his ringer could have been on. Stumbling over his words in front of the projector his fingers fumble to shut it off from the outside of his slacks. Succeeding he gives a quick apology before he continues going over the numbers from last quarter.

“S-so anyway as I was say-“ buzz-buzz-buzz

Cheeks turning crimson he holds a finger up before digging his phone out of his pocket, not expecting to see your name he opens the message quickly in case it was some kind of emergency. It wasn’t like you to reach out to him during the day, or really ever. No matter how much he wished that was different.

When he opens it a picture of your tits was the last thing he was expecting, let alone a second picture of your ass. Pants immediately starting to tighten his eyes widen behind his thin framed glasses before he fumbles his phone out of his hands, the small device hitting the carpet with a soft thud. Landing screen side up he scrambles to retrieve it before anybody else could see what he was looking at almost losing his glasses in the process. Hitting the power button he shuts it off before pocketing it again. Doing his best to think of anything to get his mind off of how much better you look then all of his fantasies combined.

“Everything okay Harrington?”

Clearing his throat he runs a shaky hand through his unruly hair before pulling at the collar of his shirt. The perfect temperature in the room suddenly becoming sweltering, he can feel the beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m good.” Shaking his head he refocuses on the PowerPoint and not the zipper of his slacks pressing into the half chub he was now sporting.

—

“I sent them to you like twenty minutes ago Stacy did you get them?” Looking at yourself in the full length mirror you try to decide if the dress you were wearing was too short for a first date.

“Well if you sent them, I never got them.” Your friend hummed on the other line, the sound of keyboard clicking in the background told you she wasn’t really paying attention.

Rolling your eyes you pull your phone from your ear to put her on speaker phone. Swiping up to your messages you read the name at the top of your screen five times before you really let the panic set in.

Steve.

Steve not Stacy.

“Oh my god, Jesus Christ.” Feeling like you might hyperventilate you drop your phone like it just seared off your skin.

“What? What’s going on? Did you hurt yourself again?” Stacy’s panicked voice breaks through the small speaker of your phone.

Ignoring her jab at your clumsiness you start to pace around your room. Hand on your hip and the other on your forehead you close your eyes trying to calm your breathing.

“No, much worse. I sent those pictures to STEVE Stacy, I sent them to fucking Harrington. A picture of my tits followed by a picture of my ass.” Stopping in the center of your room you let your hands drop to your sides staring up at the ceiling willing some way to either disappear or turn back time. You knew neither one would be possible.

Stacy is silent for a moment before her loud cackle echos through your room, speaker crackling, you huff loudly before dropping to the floor snatching your phone back.

“It’s not funny Stacy, Friday movie nights at Robin’s are going to be so awkward now.” Groaning loudly you flop yourself back on the soft carpet.

“Please, that boy’s been drooling over you for months. You probably just made his whole life.” Snickering you hear the sound of her door bell ring queuing her time to leave you wallowing in your embarrassment. “I gotta go, but it’s gonna be fine. I’m sure he’ll be too awkward to say anything anyway.”

Grumbling you pinch your eyes closed “I hope you’re right.”

Hanging up you let your phone drop to your chest thinking of all the different ways you could explain yourself to him. Part of your mortification was your own crush that had developed on him, not wanting to ruin the friend group you always just pushed it aside. The thought of going the honesty route crossed your mind, but the dinging notification on your phone brings all your anxiety roaring back to life.

Taking a deep breath you count to three before peaking at the screen. Steve’s name flashes and it makes your stomach drop, Stacy was clearly wrong.

Steve Harrington: Did you mean to send those to me?

Silently debating on whether you should expose yourself or not you decide to go the simpler route. Deny, deny, deny. Who cares if the pictures were sitting there in front of you clear as day. You make your own reality right?

You: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Pressing send more aggressively then you needed to, you place the screen face down on your chest. Eyes to the ceiling again you hope your denial is enough for him to drop it. Ding, ding, ding. Groaning loudly you lift your phone back up.

Steve Harrington: YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!

Yeah, he wasn’t going to drop it.

You: Look, it was an accident. Can we just forget it ever happened? I’m embarrassed enough as it is.

Sitting up you toss your phone on the bed before peeling off your dress throwing it to the already growing pile on the floor. Walking back over to the mirror you look at yourself, in nothing but your underwear as you try to see yourself through Steve’s eyes. Despite Stacy’s accusation of his crush, you always just assumed he was a natural flirt never thinking it was anything special with you.

The dinging of your phone brings you back to your bed Steve’s actual reaction waiting at your fingertips. Snatching it quickly you don’t bother to read the preview.

Steve Harrington: I kinda figured.

It was short with nothing to read behind it, maybe he wanted to just clear the air and you two could go back to normal. Phone vibrating in your hand there’s another message that changes everything.

Steve Harrington: That’s too bad.

Mind reeling at his response you throw your phone down like it’s on fire for the second time in five minutes.

“That’s too bad? That’s too bad?” Mumbling out loud you start pacing again, you weren’t prepared for this. Steve Harrington was actually shooting his shot.

He was probably sitting at that big desk he was so proud to get with one of those tight fitting button ups he always wore to work, thin rimmed glasses half way down his nose, his hair a hand tousled mess on top of his head. The image is enough to have your thighs press together. God Steve was pretty.

Biting your nails you stare at your phone from across the room. Did you really want to open Pandora’s box?

In just a few quick strides your phone is back in your hand, thumbs hovering over the keyboard you take a deep breath before finally replying.

You: What if I was lying? What if they were for you?

Nerves shoot through your body like electric currents while you wait for his response. Back to pacing in nothing but your lace underwear the ding of his reply is quicker then you anticipated.

Steve Harrington: Then I would tell you just how fucking mouth watering you are.

Slick building quickly at his words, there was something about him cussing that turned you on even more. Always being such a gentleman you never saw this side of Steve before. Grinning stupidly to yourself reading his text over and over you finally flop yourself back down on the bed.

You: You’re one to talk Harrington.

Hoping that the compliment is coy enough your thumb hesitates over the send button before you finally just hit it. When he takes longer the five seconds to respond your mind starts wandering to all the worse case scenarios but before you can go too far into your rabbit hole his name is flashing across your screen again.

Steve Harrington: You gave me a boner in front of all of my bosses. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

Snickering at the thought of Steve trying to conceal himself by shuffling around awkwardly, you decide that yeah, you are happy with yourself.

You: One of my proudest moments actually.

You try your best to imagine what Steve’s face must look like right now, is he biting his lip with flushed cheeks? Is he hard right now? How many times has he looked at your pictures? Lost in your daydreams it takes you a second to realize you weren’t getting a text you were getting a call.

Steve Harrington was calling you.

Staring at his name on your phone you chew the inside of your cheek, texting was one thing but talking about it? Out loud? That was a whole other thing. Despite not being sure if you were mentally ready for this your thumb slides across the answer button. Bringing it up to your ear you’re too nervous to talk first.

“H-hey.” He sounds just like how you feel.

“Hi Steve.” Your voice is sweeter then intended when it comes out but judging by the sharp intake of breath on the other side he liked it.

“I like how my name sounds coming out of your mouth.” Smooth like silk, the tone he uses only adds to your arousal, the wet patch on your underwear growing bigger.

“I say your name all the time.” Trying to hide how breathless you sound you start to trail your finger tips over the curves of your stomach.

“Not like that baby.” Its almost a whine when it leaves his mouth, and you can hear just how bad he wants you. “I wanna hear you say it again.”

“Yeah?” Laying it on thick, your voice picks up a few octaves.

“I want my name to be the only thing you remember how to say.”

His words have you rubbing your thighs together, your underwear sticking between your folds at the sound of his heavy breathing adding to your arousal. Cupping your breast with your free hand you tweak your nipple, the sensation making you arch your back.

“How are you gonna do that Steve?” drawing out his name you can hear the muttered ‘fuck’ fall from under his breath.

“First, I want to suck on those perfect nipples of yours. Twist them between my teeth.” Hearing him be so vulgar mixed with the work your own fingers were putting in on your sensitive nub had your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“A-and then what?” Voice cracking your hand starts making its way towards where you need it most.

“Shit- fuck. Are you- are you touching yourself right now?” Disbelief laced in his tone the groan he lets out when you give him a feeble ‘mmhmm’ goes straight to your core.

“Baby, tell me how wet you are.” He asks you the question right as your fingers meet your entrance, slick coating the tips of them instantly. Tracing along your slit with two fingers they settle on the small bundle of nerves nestled at the top, rubbing slow languid circles on your clit you suck your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from moaning too loud.

“I’m so wet for you Steve, I was soaked through my underwear before you even called.”

Exhaling loudly on the other end he lets out a breathy “Yeah?”

Moving your fingers from your sensitive bud you bring them down to your entrance dipping one in to stretch yourself out before working in the second one. The sudden fullness making you gasp.

“Tell me what else you want to do to me.” You moan “If you were here, what would you be doing to me.”

“Are you fucking yourself with your fingers pretty girl?” The new nicknames fall from his lips so easily like he’s called you them all his life.

“Mmhm, I’m imagining their yours.” There’s a pathetic sound thats bubbles from your throat when you curl them up hitting that spongy spot that makes your legs shake.

“Good girl.” He hums, closing your eyes you imagine him sitting in his big office palming himself through his dress slacks under his desk. The squelching sound coming from the way your fingers move in and out of you becoming so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it on the other line.

“I bet you taste so fucking good, you wanna know what I’d be doing if I was there baby?” The desperation in his voice is enough for you to add a third finger, back arching at the new stretch.

“Shit, Steve.” Thumb hitting your clit as you push further into yourself you can’t seem to form any coherent sentences anymore.

“I’d bury my face in that pretty little pussy like it was my last meal.” Talking through clenched teeth you wonder how hard Steve has to be, mouth watering at the thought you’d heard all the rumors of his size.

“Mmm fuck.” Your hips push off the bed to meet the movements of your fingers, your thumb adding more pressure to the bundle of nerves. “What else would you do to me. Please Steve I’m so close.”

It sounds like a growl that leaves his chest on the other side of the phone, his heavy breathing rattling in your ear.

“After I make you cum on my tongue, I’d make you cum on my dick. God, you got me so hard baby. I don’t know if that little cunt of yours would be able to handle all of this.” Hearing Steve Harrington say the word cunt was enough for you to start feeling the beginnings of your orgasm, feet hitting the very edge of the cliff preparing for free fall.

“I want it Steve, I want all of it. Stretch me out, make me fucking yours.” Cock drunk off a dick that wasn’t even there, he already had you down bad.

Curling your fingers with each thrust and your thumb rubbing rough circles over your bundle of nerves mixed Steve’s soft praises on the other line was enough for you to finally fall over the edge.

“Steve, Steve, Steve.” Chanting his name while you clench tightly around your fingers, you drop the phone from your ear the muscles in your body completely giving out as the after shocks finally start to give out.

Laying there you try to catch your breath before you remember Steve’s sitting on the other side of the phone that was thrown across your bed in a lust filled haze moments ago. Picking it up you stare at if for a second nerves kicking in again now that all the sexual tension had dissipated.

“H-hi.” Your voice comes out shy when you finally work yourself up to talk to him again.

Chuckling lightly on the other side the sound is enough to ease your anxiety.

“Hey gorgeous. Does this mean you’ll let me take you out to dinner tonight?” Cheeks warming at his question, the corners of your lips turn up.

The date you’d been stressing out about earlier completely forgotten, you were ready to clear your schedule for the boy who just made you see stars without even touching you.

“Pick me up at 8 Harrington.”

Part Two

#request #steve Harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harringon smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic

1K notes · View notes

regretisstoredintheme · 1 year

Note

Hi it's your local spawn from hell who wrote about Yandere Mickey-

Anyway, can little me request the turtaleles with pianist MC? Yeah thanks my ideas basic af leave me alone It can be a fic or hcs I don't give a fuck-

I'm just a ginger music nerd who craves content that isn't mine-

Makin my way downtown, walkin’ fa— OH?? WHATS THIS??

WHAT THE FUCK??

*SNATCHES PAPER*

“Pianocat939 asked:

Hi it's your local spawn from hell who wrote about Yandere Mickey-

Anyway, can little me request the turtaleles with pianist MC? Yeah thanks my ideas basic af leave me alone It can be a fic or hcs I don't give a fuck-

I'm just a ginger music nerd who craves content that isn't mine-“

A/N: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE??? NONONO YOU BITCH YOURE NOT SUPPOSED TO REQUEST FROM ME ??— IM YOUR BIGGEST FAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY INBOX🧍

YES OFC ILL WRITE IT BUT WHAT??? IM OVER HERE MAKING YOU FANART AND SHIT IN THE BACK AND YOU JUST SAUNTER UP HERE LIKE “yo can I get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh raggedy cloth and others with piano” GET THE FUCK OUT /j

——-

All turtles x Pianist!Reader

—

(In honor of this occasion I only see it fit to write with your cursed ass names)

Raggedy Cloth:

HUGE sweetheart.

Likes to sit close to the bench, his head and arms propped up on the wood - taking up as little space as possible.

He watches closely, his tail wagging gently in anticipation as your fingertips drum on the keys. His smile widens as he hears the notes, snuggling up to you.

Sometimes he has a hard time not hugging your torso, having you there in his arms just lulls the turtle right to sleep— doesn’t matter what you’re playing.

You could be playing the most chaotic, horrifying, heart wrenching piece of sheet music and as long as he was hugging you, he’d be fine. In fact, he’s incredibly content!

If you gently pat his head before playing, the churring that vibrates from him is rather hard to play over— but eh who are you kidding? It adds a good baseline.

He hardly notices anytime you mess up, and if it really starts to bug you - he’s rubbing up and down your back, telling you to take a break, get a snack, anything to help you calm down.

Danielston III:

He isn’t exactly the type to sit and watch you play.

However, when you had expressed an interest in piano, he quietly began working on a custom-made keyboard. Purple, of course.. with accents of your favorite color.

It has more sounds than the original, and, it’s a lot more practical.

It did come with headphones.. however, he may or may not have messed with the jack so it could hook up to his headphones as well — with Bluetooth.

You know how he records everything?

…yeah.

Sometimes when he’s really overstimulated, he’ll just pull up recordings of your music, the sound calming his nerves until he can get himself back together.

When he’s understimulated? There is nothing stopping him from remixing your talent.

He DEFINITELY adds your mess - ups too, he thinks your tirades of frustration are actually really humorous.

I like to think he makes most of his ‘jammy jams’ by himself, considering how he knows what he likes, but you know.

Overall he appreciates your talent— but in secret. He’d die before letting you know how much he relies on it.

Mikey Mouse:

Loves your playing so much!!

Theres no better feeling then listening to you play and working on his art— he considers you an incredible artist, especially if you compose your own music.

His mood depends on what you’re playing, it can really affect what he plans on drawing.

If you play chaotic things, he acts like he doesn’t mind at all!! And really he doesn’t, but if you look over his shoulder, you’ll notice it’s inspired him to draw his own chaotic things..

Things you wouldn’t even wanna unleash on your own worst enemy.

Everytime you finish a song or overcome a rut you were in, he’s bombarding you with compliments.

“That one was so cool, Y/N!”

“Where did you learn to play like that?”

“You did it! I’m so proud of you..”

incredibly genuine too— like it’s overflowing.

I feel like this was short, but there’s not really much to say about the mikester 😭 Hes just content to be in your presence. He sees you as an artist the same as him, same level and creative ability. He loves being around you.

Tableo:

He makes sure you have a couch instead of a bench for your piano

Why?

So he can lean against you and prop his legs up on the armrests of course!!

He’s quick to point out when you do something impressive, like a chord progression you had been practicing all day. his brows furrow as he gives you his signature smirk, “Class-ayy~”

He often reads comics while you play, chuckling anytime you mess up.

If you point out his laughter, there is LOADS of teasing in for you.

“I don’t see what’s so hard!” He laughs, as you scoff, asking him to play it if it’s so easy! “Well, you can’t expect me to just do it perfectly with hands like these..” he gestures to his 6 fingers, but scoots closer to you anyway, muttering something about how “but.. if you insist~”

He’s surprisingly really good his first try! Great for someone with “hands like his”.

If you try to teach him though, he’s yawning through your whole lecture — instead staring at you and how prettily your features meshed together.

“Leo? Did.. you hear anything I just said..?”

“Hehehehhh.. nope. ♡”

He’s.. Shameless..!

Absolutely…

Shameless.

——

A/N: PLS EXCUSE ME FOR BEING SUCH A FANBOYJFHJDHS op is just really cool ♡

#ROTTMNT #ROTTMNT x reader #tmnt x reader #ROTTMNT Leo x reader #ROTTMNT Donnie x reader #ROTTMNT Mikey x reader #ROTTMNT raph x reader #tmnt #raph x reader #Leo x reader #Donnie x reader #Mikey x reader #regrettable writing

173 notes · View notes

birdclowns · 8 months

Text

good morning !! thank u for the tag @welcometololaland <3333 a snippet you want, a snippet you get.

A new email catches his eye as it pops into his inbox, only for him to sigh when its contents are about a system-wide update that night. Make sure to not shut off your computer, but to sign out–

He deletes the email.

Another tick, another minute.

His phone buzzes, lighting up with his husband’s name. He smiles, swiping it open to see a picture of TK with a thumbs-up and his cute, scrunchy eyed smile. Marjan is halfway in frame, her tongue sticking out, with Nancy’s head tucked between the two, expression innocent as she gives TK bunny ears.

call was a false alarm! omw home soon <3

He sends back four heart emojis – one for each of them, but two for TK – followed by Staying late. Files keep piling up. Shouldn’t be too long. He doesn't need to worry TK with the well, actually, my captain wants to see me.

TK answers immediately with two texts back to back.

</3 </3 </3 gonna be home all alone what will i do without my husband:(

i love you! remember some can be done TOMORROW. and then we’re gone for a whole week!!!

Carlos feels like a schoolgirl with how big he’s grinning down at his phone, cheeks aching. There’s warmth growing in his core, full of the love he holds for TK. He sends back an I love you and as many heart emojis as he thinks it takes to convey the love. A lot of heart emojis.

A throat is cleared, and Carlos’ phone drops from his hands, bouncing from his keyboard and onto his desk with a loud clatter. An email opens on his screen, his phone having hit just the right key. He looks up, gaze lingering on it before making eye contact with his captain. Carlos smiles sheepishly, feeling his face heat up.

tagging; @inflarescent @thebumblecee @mooshkat @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @alrightbuckaroo @paperstorm @reyesstrand @cowlos-reyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @louis-ii-reyes-strand @oddcologne @bonheur-cafe @sanjuwrites @fitzherbertssmolder @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings

#911 lone star fics #fic; your gentle hands are stained with the blood of anothers #tarlos #jasper writes #will tk be getting home???? 🤫#i need yall to know i read the first chapter outloud to a friend and it was so fun #i offer bedtime stories now but only hotrifically gruesome ones

36 notes · View notes

my-soupy-brain · 7 months

Note

ted being worried about y/n because they look like they’re not sleeping/eating enough

I have a few of these in the inbox and first of all babes, get your sleep. Eat your meals. Drink your water. I love you all. Secondly, I also need Ted to remind me of this - lol. So let's write one to cover a few of these asks, because we all need some Ted love.

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Self-health neglect, comfort

---

You knew better.

You did.

You weren't drinking enough water. You weren't eating meals at the right hours, or sometimes at all. Your sleep was erratic.

Ted noticed it, too. You'd fall asleep on the couch not long after he got home from work, and then be up late with your lamp on and your keyboard clicking away.

He watched as you turned down meals.

Work had been running you ragged. The online classes you were taking weren't helping. Your anxiety swirled like a storm in your gut all hours of the day.

You can't remember the last time you felt... okay.

So one night when Ted politely asks you to eat at the kitchen table with him, he reaches for your hand.

"I'm worried about ya," he says softly, his eyebrows scrunched together in that cute way you love. But your heart breaks because you don't want him worrying about you on top of everything else.

When Ted's mental health hit the skids, you were there to piece him back together. And he can see you're headed in the same direction he's been in.

You nod, holding his hand.

You don't notice the bags under your eyes, the way your skin looks paler, less full of life. How baggy your clothes seem to be lately. How drowsy you look in the middle of the day, and every weekend when you're trying to spend quality time with Ted.

"I think it's time ya slow down a bit, hon," Ted follows. You nod.

...

Over the next week, Ted helps you set a plan.

A sound machine for the bedroom, to help you sleep at night.

A water bottle with helpful phrases marked on it to keep you hydrated. Ted wrote them: Good job! Keep going! So proud of you! Almost done!

He even pre-made some meals and slipped them into the fridge for you, quick so you can eat while you're busy.

And when he came home at night, he'd softly knock on the door where you were hunched over the computer, place his hand on your shoulder and say, "Time to wrap up, darlin'. Give those eyes and that beautiful brain a break."

He helped save you from yourself.

And as the days passed, you found you were doing better. Sleeping better. Drinking more water. Eating on a normal schedule.

You found that like a dog with a bell, when the evening hour came and the door closed, it was time to shut down and be present with the guy you love more than anything in the world.

...

One night in bed, you close your book and lay it on your nightstand, and Ted pulls you to his chest, making you giggle.

"I'm so dang proud of ya," he murmurs, against your cheek as he kisses it. "You look and feel so much healthier. I was so worried."

You cup his face and look into his dark eyes.

"I couldn't have done it without your help and support, babe. I was totally lost in myself until you pulled the brakes."

He smiles and kisses you tenderly.

"I just want you around as long as I can, so I wanna keep ya healthy," he whispers, kissing you gently again, pulling your body closer.

"Well, I definitely wanna stick around for you, that much I know," you answer with a smile, sighing his name when his lips roam down your neck.

"I know," Ted says, pecking your skin with kisses between words, "That you're supposed to sleep..." "Right now..." "But I was wondering..." "If you would like..."

You nod quickly.

"Whatever you're about to ask, the answer is yes."

He smiles at rolls onto you.

"I promise it'll help us both sleep," he says with a chuckle, leaning into your lips, his mouthwash lingering on his tongue.

"I have no doubt about that, handsome..."

---

OK, can we clone THIS Ted? I've said that before but I'm so serious. lol I need this in my life. Thanks for the prompt, friend. And take care of yourselves out there!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you

45 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 10 months

Note

I have a focusing problem. Writing isn't particularly that stimulating to me (don't get me wrong, I LOVE writing and seeing my ideas come back to life, but at some point it feels like I'm writing words rather than visualising a scene) but having any sort of music or video in the background distracts me. Is this a problem with my brain or just with my writing skill?

Trouble Focusing on Story

Is this a problem with your brain or with your writing skill? Well, that depends...

First, sometimes writing does feel like writing words rather than visualizing a scene. We don't always get carried away with the story while our fingers tap mindlessly away at the keyboard. Writing isn't always fun. In fact, sometimes it's really hard work. Sometimes it's just a matter of pushing through those days we're it's not fun to get to the days that are.

But... if this is a constant problem, it could be more than just the typical ups and downs. It could be an issue with your stories--maybe that you don't really know where they're going, so you lose steam. It could be that you get distracted by newer, shinier ideas. Or it could be that you're distracted by life in general.

I would suggest looking at my post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! to see if one of those solutions works for you. If not, see the links at the bottom of the post for further help. You might also spend some time on my Description master list of posts to see if maybe you just need to make your writing a little more vivid.

Hopefully something here will help!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

See my ask policies

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

35 notes · View notes

fluffyllamas-23 · 9 months

Note

If you feel inspired, Stucky for this prompt: “It was just a dream, you’re alright.” (Esp if Steve is having super bad fever dreams?) Thank you!

Hiiiii so…this has been in my inbox for literal years (I AM SO SORRY), and i’m not sure if you even want this still, BUT I do love me a good Stucky prompt. It’s getting to actually feel like fall where I live now, so what better way to kick that off than a cute stucky prompt? I haven’t written much of anything in a couple of years so I’m probably really rusty, but i hope you like it <3 <3

This is a modern AU, but Steve's got that post-serum bod I love so much lmao

Bucky walks into the apartment foot first in case the cats are trying to make yet another unsuccessful escape outside. He’s not sure what they would do if they managed to get out, but he’s also not all that interested in finding out.

There were no cats waiting, though, which was odd, he thought to himself. They’re usually waiting at the door, ready to greet whoever was coming home and sing them the song of their people.

He figures maybe they’re keeping Steve company. He had woken up not feeling great (but not awful) and had opted to work from home today. When one of them works from home, the cats usually like being a nuisance and playing their favorite game of “how many times can I walk across dad’s keyboard before I get myself locked out of his office?”

Also weird, he thinks, is just how dark and quiet the apartment is. Steve’s work day ended a couple of hours ago at this point, and usually he’d be hanging out on the couch, watching something on TV, or making something for the two of them for dinner while he waits for Bucky to get home. It’s really out of the norm that things would feel this quiet and still, which is kind of a dead giveaway that Steve was probably feeling worse than he had that morning.

Bucky closes the door behind him and sets down the drink carrier and paper bag he’d been carrying on the table. He had stopped by their favorite coffee shop on his way home to pick up Steve’s favorite tea latte and the pumpkin muffin they both think about year-round until fall hits.

“Steve?” He calls out. “Honey? I’m home! I brought you some tea. How are you feeling?”

When he gets no response, he grabs Steve’s tea and walks to their bedroom. Steve is sprawled out under the covers, snoring softly as he sleeps, completely dead to the world. Bucky sets the tea down on Steve's nightstand, and then sits down on the edge of the bed next to him.

He reaches out to feel Steve’s forehead and frowns as the skin beneath his hand burns. He sighs and slides his hand down to feel his cheek with the backs of his fingers. He'd tried to sneakily check if Steve had a fever this morning, and he didn't, so the fact that he was this warm was alarming.

It’s not until he feels the back of Steve’s neck that he starts to wake. He blinks awake, looking at Bucky with the cutest, sleepiest expression.

Bucky’s heart drops when he can really take in Steve’s appearance - he doesn’t look like he feels good at all. He’s pale and clammy, flushed with dark bags under his eyes. His eyes are bright and glassy, unfocused from the fever he’s most definitely running.

Steve squints in confusion when he sees Bucky.

“What?” He croaks, voice thick with sleep and the congestion that’s starting to creep in. “You’re home already?”

“Already? Darling, it’s six-thirty,” he chuckles. “You have a fever. How are you feeling?”

“Fantastic,” Steve deadpans. “Never better. You should try it, feels awesome.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he cards his fingers through Steve’s hair. It’s not helping the bedhead that he’s sporting, but Bucky knows how much Steve loves him playing with his hair when he’s not feeling well.

“Alright, smartass. How long have you been asleep? Sorry for waking you.”

Steve runs a hand down his face. “I don’t know…texted my boss around noon that I was logging off for the day and fell asleep sometime after..”

Bucky frowns again, concern creeping in. “Since noon? Did you have a fever then?”

“Don’t think so,” Steve yawns, “just a really bad headache.”

“Did you take anything?”

“Some Advil…didn’t help, though.”

Bucky pats Steve’s thigh. “I’m going to go grab the thermometer and some more meds. Drink your tea.”

Steve pushes himself into a sitting position and then slumps back into the pillows. He definitely didn’t mean to sleep for as long as he did. He even set an alarm, but he vaguely remembers turning it off and tossing his phone on the floor in annoyance the moment it started blaring.

His head is pounding and he can’t remember the last time he ached this badly. A bath sounds wonderful, but the thought of moving is enough to bring him close to tears. He can feel the congestion setting in - his face feels heavy, and his ears are starting to feel stuffy and full. He sniffles, rubbing at his nose as he yawns.

He should not be as tired as he is with how long he slept, but he’s ready to call it for the night and try to sleep off whatever the hell kind of bug this is.

“Here,” Bucky says when he comes back into the room. He sets the blister pack of cold meds on the nightstand and then hands Steve the thermometer. He kisses Steve’s fever-warm forehead. “Take your temp, I’m gonna go change real quick.”

Bucky is pulling up his sweat pants when he hears the thermometer beep, followed by a pause, and then a very shocked “oh.”

“What’s it at?”

“102.1.”

“Yikes…no wonder. Take the meds,” Bucky calls from the closet.

He doesn’t respond, but when Bucky steps out of the closet, Steve is fussing with the blister pack of meds. Bucky can see the frustration building and then he throws it down on the bed next to him with an irritated sigh. That launches him into a coughing fit that sounds rough enough it has Bucky wincing in sympathy.

“Here,” Bucky says, opening the meds for him. He cups Steve’s cheek and strokes it with his thumb. “What are you in the mood for, dinner-wise? And don’t say nothing, that’s not an option.”

“How’d you know-”

“-How’d I know you were going to say that?” He asks, raising his brows. “Contrary to popular belief, Steven, I actually know you very well. You never want to eat when you’re sick.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, well, I’m not hungry.”

“I know. You still need to eat…at least a little bit with the meds. C’mon. Does anything sound even remotely good? Soup? Ramen? Pho? Grilled cheese?”

Steve clears his throat with a grimace, “grilled cheese does, I guess. I don’t know. I really just want to go back to sleep.”

“We’ll compromise, then.” Bucky says gently, going back to carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You go back to sleep for a bit while I make you some dinner.”

When Bucky returns, Steve is fast asleep, but he does not look like he’s having a restful sleep.

His face, pale and clammy, is screwed up in discomfort. He’s tossing and turning, getting tangled in the blankets and looking like he’s having the hardest time being comfortable. Bucky sets down the plate of grilled cheese on top of the dresser next to the door quickly before crossing the room to get to Steve.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “Steve. Wake up.”

Steve’s eyes open immediately, but it’s like he’s looking straight through Bucky as his eyes dart around the room, distress clear on his face.

“Wha-”

“Stevie…hey-it was just a dream. Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me,” he says firmly. After a few moments, Steve’s eyes flick to Bucky’s face. “It was just a dream, you’re alright. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, feeling himself relaxing immediately now that he’s seen his person and realizes whatever the hell he was dreaming of isn’t real.

“You’re okay,” Bucky repeats, stroking Steve’s cheek. “I’m right here. It’s not real, It was just a dream.”

Steve nuzzles his face into Bucky’s hand, mumbling a “thank you,” at him.

“I made you something to eat, and then I was thinking we could watch something and call it an early night.” Bucky says, alternating before stroking his cheek and tracing patterns on his arm, something that always calms Steve down after he’s had one of his fever dreams. “How’s that sound?”

“I can’t promise I’ll stay awake during the movie.”

Bucky furrows his brows. “Who said anything about staying awake? Might just be nice to have something to fall asleep to.”

Steve nods, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, “yeah, okay.”

Once Bucky hands him the plate, he climbs into bed next to Steve. Steve adjusts his position so he’s curled up against Bucky. He only really manages a couple of bites before he can’t eat anymore, and he finds himself nodding off. Bucky takes the plate from him and sets it down on his own nightstand, making a mental note to bring it into the kitchen once Steve’s asleep and he can move without bothering him.

Steve curls up into an even tighter ball, shivering a bit as Bucky pulls the blankets up and over his shoulder and kisses Steve’s cheek.

“Feel better, Stevie,” he says softly.

Steve mumbles something back at him, which is the last thing he remembers before drifting off.

#stucky #post serum Steve rogers #bucky #au #sickfic #fever #congestion #coughing #sorry this is so late bb #I hope you like it <3

24 notes · View notes

katsu28 · 1 year

Note

a business deal:

i give u: my love and affection forever and ever and to remember to stay hydrated

u give me: whatever steeb or rafe thoughts are in ur mind rn so i can kiss ur brain and keyboard smash in ur inbox <3

🤝 i accept this business deal and will give u thoughts for both in return <33 (i drank some water btw i hope u do too babe)

steve doesn't know how to ride a bike. we're ignoring the whole bike montage from s3 for this headcanon! steve harrington never learned how to ride a bike (because his parents were never around to teach him but ANYWAYS) and he never told anyone. but one day you suggest going for a bike ride around town bc that's a couple-y thing to do idk and he's just like haha how bout a walk? we can take a walk around town! and usually you're happy to go along with whatever he says but this time you can tell he's definitely not telling you something bc he looks guilty? ashamed?

you're not sure, so you ask him stevie what's going on? and very very softly he just mentions that he never learned how to ride a bike. he just looks so defeated you make it your mission today to teach your boyfriend how to ride a bike. he gets frustrated at first because how the fuck do you balance on this thing??? but he gets the hang of it very quickly when you promise to kiss him if he manages to make it down the street and back. and at the end of the day when he's somewhat confident of his newfound ability to bike, he catches your wrist before you put your bike back and he brings you into the tightest hug with his lips pressed to the top of your head and he thanks you. you suspect it's not just for teaching him how to ride a bike, but for taking the time to do something so simple for him without pitying him because his parents were absent for his entire childhood.

rafe's love language is quality time. he grew up with the means to buy anything and everything he wanted, so most material things have lost their value to him. what he never had was genuine quality time with his loved ones, so when you came along and told him that you don't care much for expensive things, all you want is him, he's instantly in love. he often shows up at your doorstep with food so you can spend the whole day together on the couch or cuddled up in bed doing nothing but being with each other.

he's never felt so relaxed in his life with your head on his shoulder or your legs thrown across his lap. he doesn't even mind if you don't talk to each other for a bit, he just loves existing in the same space as you. dates look less like fancy expensive restaurants and more like cooking together at home and binge watching new girl until you fall asleep on him. (he says he only watches the show because you like it, but you see him chuckling to himself. he likes schmidt the most) drives around the island are also a favorite for him because he gets to drive with one hand in yours, listening to the playlist you made for him, and fall a little more in love with you as you look out the window.

sleepover weekend!!

#that was fun #folks should send more in i think i'm breaking out of my writer's block #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron headcanon #answered!#sweet ivy <3

38 notes · View notes

muzzlemouths · 2 years

Note

*sneaks into your inbox and drops a drabble promp idea?* "Is that what you think?" *runs away*

A - Ah????

i unburied my teeny tiny to-go keyboard for this

Moon Centric // Wordcount: 1,784

“This is a new low, even for you.”

You wish you could say you were surprised - that Moon’s antics were predictable enough by now to warrant genuine disappointment when he did anything outside of his usual box of tricks - but the truth of the matter is that he’s always finding new ways to torment you, and tonight isn’t an exception.

It’s childish, you think. The kinds of games he plays just to get a little more on your nerves, a little deeper under your skin. He’s resorted to ‘harmless’ pranks as of late and while you might prefer those over anything actually dangerous he had attempted prior to this point, it didn’t mean they weren’t frustrating. Last week it was a chair against the storage closet doorknob; you had to radio a coworker to come let you out. Yesterday he replaced all of your tools with the Fisher-Price version, and you’re still at a loss for where he stashed the ones Sun wasn’t able to locate (that screwdriver was expensive, you’re really going to miss it.)

Tonight, it was doodles in marker on your face. Permanent marker, to be exact. And it wasn’t. Coming. Off. “I’m going to miss the bus home because of this,” you turn the faucet to scald and reach in for another pump of hand soap, “if you have a good reason for this I’d love to hear it."

His silence speaks volumes - at least, you want it to. You want him to have an explanation for why you’re fifteen minutes into scrubbing away a crudely drawn mustache from your upper lip. You want him to look in any way remorseful over the fact that your face is poison-ivy red in mismatched blotches from the number of sharpie stars and smiley faces you had already painstakingly washed away. But he’s quiet, and that only proves to work you up more. Maybe that was his goal all along, now that you think about it.

“Are you even listening to me?” The bathroom door is propped open by a wet-floor sign. You face it with a snap, water dribbling down your jaw and reaching the collar of your uniform shirt where it would sit uncomfortably for the rest of your shift. He stands - no, lounges - on the other side of the door, just outside of the bathroom light’s reach, seemingly bent on ignoring you.

Infuriating, that’s what it is. You could handle the teasing, the immature pokes at your outfit or personality or taste in anything. You could take his persistence in driving you out of a job. But this? Even the scarier moments - the times you second-guessed if this career choice was worth your life - were starting to look more pleasant than what he had resorted to now. “I don’t even know where you got your hands on this. I know the Daycare only stocks washable markers. You really put in the extra effort just to ruin my night a little more, huh?”

No response. You turn back to the mirror and cup your hands under the faucet, cringing at the way your fingertips have begun to prune. You shoot him one last glare before dunking your face into water, bending at the waist to minimize splashing. Your wet reflection returns successfully clean of mustache.

Feeling brave with your anger you turn back to the door again, vindication running through your veins, “You’re a lot like a dog, you know. A puppy - wreaking havoc out of boredom.” His neck snaps sideways to face you. “Oh, do I have your attention now? Do you hate the comparison that much?” You swear you see his fingers twitch, “You mess with shit without any understanding of consequence. You run amuck causing problems for other people to clean up and then turn around and pretend it was all just fun and games. Is that not true?”

“Could play rougher,” his voicebox crackles in what is most definitely a threat, “if you’re tired of games.”

“I’m tired of this,” you point to the remnants of smudged color, “I’m tired of middle-school pranks, I’m tired of you hiding my things, stealing my keys - using my face as a fucking drawing board!”

“Shouldn’t fall asleep on the job,” he hums, evidently already over the puppy comment.

You don’t hide your scoff, “That’s rich, coming from you. I take a little cat nap for ten minutes after weeks of you attempting to put me down yourself, and what do I get for it? Regret, that’s what. Well, it won’t happen again, I’ll tell you that!”

He looks at you. Not directly, but by your reflection in the mirror. Then his arms uncross from over his chest, his back straightens, and he pulls himself away from the door and out of sight. You think maybe he’s just going to leave (a possibility you're not sorry about feeling hopeful for) but a soft thunk against the wall tells you he’s simply moved to stand where you can’t stare him down. Not without leaving the safety of the bathroom light, anyway.

“I just don’t get it,” you give up on getting a response out of him and instead return to the counters so you can keep working at the last smears of marker, “I try to be reasonable, I try to see the good in you, and I’m constantly offering you chances to prove that you’re as forgivable as Sun insists, but you make it really damn hard.” You reach for the paper towel dispenser and impatiently draw more than a handful of them. “Maybe it would be different if I could tell you were trying. If I could see you doing your best to get better. But you’re not. You caught this virus like a nasty cold and you’re using it as an excuse to bully people.”

You wish there was any real anger behind your words. There was frustration, sure. Exhaustion, definitely. But your venom falls flat, sounding instead like a disappointed parent. Like you're nagging him, like you were seconds away from being the one to threaten time-out, and you expect him to scoff. To shrug at you. Maybe even laugh.

The silence that meets you is so, so much worse. It carries on for as long as it takes you to pat the water from your face. Long enough that you begin to think he did, in fact, just leave without saying anything. It wouldn’t have been surprising. But it was terribly awkward, like this, and you suddenly feel the need to clear the air -- he beats you to it.

“Is that what you think?”

You can’t see his face. You want to - in fact, you’ve never before been so desperate to - but his back is against the wall opposite to you, out of sight, and there’s nothing to go off of excluding a slight clip to his tone that might indicate what he’s feeling.

“Well…yea,” you admit, albeit with a somewhat more patient tone, now, “from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you want to get better.”

Silence, again. He drags it out for longer this time. With nothing left to scrub away you’re lost for what to do while he mulls over your biting words and comes up with his own, something he’s never had an issue doing before. You walk yourself over to the wall, opposite to where you assume he’s standing on the other side, lean your back against it, and wait.

And wait. And wait some more.

“Moon?”

“It’s not true,” his voice is so very quiet when he finally returns to the conversation, “it’s not exactly within my control.”

“Have you tried?”

Only a brief pause this time, “No, I’ve just been letting it ruin my life for the fun of it. Have you tried having an intelligent thought?”

You deserve that. It still makes your nose wrinkle, makes you want to retort with something just as quick, “I’m…sorry,” you say instead, “I’m really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here, but you’re giving me nothing to work with. How am I supposed to believe you’re really trying?”

“If I weren’t, you would be dead.”

The sassy remark you had prepared instead dies on your tongue. Now it's your turn to go quiet. What was there to say? How could you possibly answer that?

Especially with it being true.

It was just silly games, you had to remind yourself. It was pranks. Childish jokes. The day you met Moon, he’d cornered you just shy of your first ten minutes on the job and made quick work of destroying your flashlight like it had been a toy. You knew first and foremost what he was capable of. Were you taking these lighter antics for granted? As annoying as they were, you and him could at least agree on one thing; they were harmless in the grand scheme of things.

“This is stupid,” he mumbles. You hear a scuffling, the sound of heavy feet walking away. This time, you don’t want him to go.

You reach the door in a flash, hands tight on the doorframe, poking your head out, “Wait, Moon,” your voice strains to sound anything but guilty, “it’s not stupid. I--” you watch him pause, listening, his back to you, “I didn’t mean to imply--” you had, “this isn’t what I meant--” but you did, “I--”

“You?” He turns only halfway to look at you.

This felt awful in every possible way. There was no easy way to dance around the subject now that you had made such a big deal about it. “I’ll just tell you to lay off next time I’m not up for a game,” is what you end up saying, “I can’t expect you to act mature and then not give you a chance to prove you can be.”

If he’s satisfied with that answer, he doesn’t say anything. But he does nod, and some of the tension in his shoulders subtly relaxes.

“And for the record, I don’t hate it all the time,” you offer, “the games, I mean. You’re fun to hang out with when I’m not left scrubbing marker off my face,” then, with your voice dripping in sarcasm, “you aren’t always awful to be around, you know.”

This time he turns fully, and returns your remark with a smirk tenfold, “I can be,” he says, “or..we can steal a raceway car next time. Be awful together. No more marker.”

You let yourself breathe, content knowing you hadn't worsened whatever semblance of a relationship you had managed to build with him over the last few weeks. "That sounds way funner than this," you say, finally feeling like you're able to smile, "you've got yourself a deal."

#if you like what you read here you should check out my fanfiction called It's Curta- *gunshot*#ty for the prompt it was really fun writing this out #the quote you tossed me had me going crazy thinking about all the possibilities before i settled on this one #sorry if there's any errors i wrote this on my phone at 3am

125 notes · View notes

acourtofladydeath · 7 months

Note

The way I ran to this inbox!!!!!!!!!!!!! Given our recent discussion...I'd love to see some angsty feytamsand with a happy ending!!! Maybe forced proximity trope thrown in there? 💗

OK THIS IS VERY EXCITING.

Was I initially shooting for 500 words? Yes. Did I immediately know it would be 1K but still want it to be under that? Yes. Is it? noO. But that's okay! This is the first in what I hope will be a series of exercises where I learn to write and achieve my story goal in less words. In the end, I just had to take my hands off the keyboard and go with it in the spirit of the drabble exercise!

I sort of forgot about the forced proximity part of the request...but it's definitely angsty and leads to a HEA! I sincerely hope you enjoy "Live, and Be Happy." What is the first of what I think will be many polycule ACOTAR fics I write.

TW: mention of slight self harm

Read here on AO3 or under the cut!

A loud crash sounded through the main hall of the river house as Lucien burst through the doors, coat askew and breathing heavily.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Rhysand jumped from the couch where he lounged next to Feyre, who sat up and immediately asked, “is he okay?”

Lucien stood hunched and disheveled, sorrow in his eyes as he looked between the mated pair before him. When he’d caught his breath enough to speak he could only get out a few words, “he’s not well,” before they were both heading out the door, brushing past him carelessly.

“How was he when you last saw him?” Feyre asked as she rushed to keep up with her mate's frantic longer legs.

“Not bad enough to worry you.”

Feyre scoffed, pacing past him to turn and face him, stopping Rhysand in his tracks. “That was not the deal, Rhysand. We agreed you could go see him in person without me until he felt ready if, and only if, he was okay in the meantime.” She stared down his violet eyes, unyielding in her anger and fear.

Rhysand had continued to visit the Spring Court in hopes of helping Tamlin rekindle his control. They hadn’t counted on it rekindling other things as well. After one particularly long visit, Rhys had explained his former relationship with Tamlin before they’d become high lords.

After Rhys revealed their former, and newly sparked feelings, Feyre had started writing back and forth with the male she’d once hoped would become her mate, and was surprised to find her own feelings for him returning as well. Tamlin it seemed was happy to love them both, but his depression and the trauma he’d been dealt and never dealt with had taken its toll.

Rhysand’s violet gaze was full of emotion, pain for the male they both had grown to love again, fear for his condition, conviction to protect Tamlin, and shame from deceiving the female they both loved so deeply. Eventually, he bent under the solid will of Feyre’s stare, dropping his head toward the ground between them.

“Take me to him” she said, a statement with no room for question, as she held her hand out to grab his own. Rhys quickly winnowed them to the place in Spring he knew Tamlin would be.

Tamlin’s struggle with his own monsters had been going on much longer than he’d wanted to admit, and when he’d finally started opening up to Rhys about it after that one solstice, it was like a damn broke, drowning him thoroughly. Today had been worse than most. He and Lucien had been discussing how the courts were still healing from the Hybern War and Amarantha’s reign under the mountain, when he’d suddenly been triggered by a particularly bad bout of memories.

Unable to stop himself, he’d transformed into his beast, attempting to punish himself for being the cause of so much suffering. His friends, his courts, the other courts, and worst of all the suffering of the two people he held closest to his heart.

When Feyre and Rhysand arrived, he was huddled on the floor of the cabin he ran off to to be alone, away from the prying eyes of his court. Both arms wrapped around his head and knees tightly as if he could hold himself together while his claws pierced into his skin, drawing thin streams of blood that flowed down his bare skin. He’d managed to stop harming himself most of the time, but still couldn't stop this one action to hurt both to punish his wrongs and to remind himself he was still alive.

In the doorway, Feyre let out a soft sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh, her tattooed hand rising to stifle the noise as she looked up on Tamlin for the first time in years. Rhysand moved forward slowly, his focus solely on the male before him. “Tam, it’s me,” he said as he slid onto his knees in front of the broken person in front of him, taking his tortured face between both his hands.

As Rhys tried to tilt Tamlin’s face up toward his, he felt the male recoil away. Placing their voices together, Rhys spoke in a soft voice cracked with emotion. “Please don’t hide from me. I’m not scared of you. We want to help, Tamlin. Please let us help.”

With that word, Tamlin looked up, his dulled eyes currently a deep, pained green. With a voice harsh and hoarse from what Rhys was sure had been hours of screaming, Tamlin spoke, “we? I thought Lucien left?”

Feyre had slowly walked into the cabin as Rhysand steadied her first love, until she was not standing a few paces away as she spoke. “He did, but he didn’t abandon you Tamlin. He came to get us, to get me.” Slowly, Tamlin turned to face her. Rhys’s hands still steadied him, one caressing his jaw tenderly, while the other softly ran across the spots Tamlin had punctured his shoulder.

Unable to stay away any longer Feyre rushed forward the last steps, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms delicately, yet firmly around his neck. After a long moment, Tamlin spoke, his face buried in her neck. “Why are you here…why would you bother to care for me, Feyre…after everything I did.”

Feyre pulled back, one hand caressing Tamlin’s chin as the other reached to cover Rhys’s hand still rubbing the sore marks on his shoulder. “We are both here Tamlin, because we see you. Because we’ve been where you are, and you deserve someone in your corner as you work through this.”

Tamlin seemed to scoff at that, as if he either believed he didn’t deserve to heal, or was incapable. “That doesn’t explain why you are here, either of you.” As he said the second part of the statement, Tamlin looked between the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, sensing the cooling mist of Rhys’s magic that always seemed to calm him.

“We’re here because we love you, Tamlin.” Rhys’s smooth and soothing words hanging in the air between the three of them. Feyre spoke then, adding to her mate’s words, “both of us. You deserve to be loved.”

Using her hand to tilt Tamlin’s chin up to meet her gaze. “Do you remember what you told me, after you brought Rhys back? You told me to be happy. You deserve to be happy too, Tamlin.”

Rhysand’s one hand rested on his mate’s back while she held Tamlin’s gaze, his other gently holding Tamlin’s neck, thumb brushing against his jaw softly, in the way he’d often done so long ago. “Let us help you come back, teach you to be happy again. The three of us.”

Tamlin closed his eyes, a tear softly falling and being wiped away before it tracked too far. And for the first time since his father died, Tamlin truly felt like it was true, like he could learn to be happy. The three of them together could bring him back to life.

#LDdrabbles #i mean idk if you can count 1.2K as a drabble #BUT I'M GONNA #polycule #feytamsand #angst #hea #feyre archeron #rhysand #tamlin #night court #spring court #acotar #acowar #acotar fanfic #myfic #mywork #ao3fic #ao3writer

8 notes · View notes

defountaine · 8 months

Text

DEFOUNTAINE.

independent + private roleplay blog for FURINA DE FONTAINE, of mhy's GENSHIN IMPACT as judged by SINCLAIR ( 21 ). crossover + oc friendly. low activity due to college ( junior yr ) + old laptop.

INTEREST CHECKER. / GOOGLE DOC.

rules under cut.

NOTES. ( THIS MAY BE UPDATED AS TIME GOES ON. )

not spoiler or leak free

i tag triggers as “ trigger // “

for the main verse ( gi ), i'm almost entirely caught up on the main story.

hc heavy.

i use she/he/they for furina. she looks like both a woman and a twink and it's giving me gender envy, okay. genderfluid furina is so real to me.

generally novella because i love writing a lot!!

scarce activity bc my laptop is fucked up ( most of the keys are stiff lol ) + full time college student. i am literally doing a research proposal this semester.

aforementioned keyboard thing may lead to typos

i tag a lot of my ooc posts ( since a majority of the time they’re useless ) as “ irrelevant // ” as to not clog up peoples dash

sometimes tumblr doesn’t send my asks so if you’ve liked for an inbox call and you don’t receive it, thats why

mutuals can ask for discord<3 i encourage it actually since im active there more often but im very anxious and tend not to initiate conversation unless i feel like we’re very close

if i ever bother you lmk<3 i’ve been told i can get a little spammy at times and i’ll admit i do get easily excited so if i need to tone it down just let me know!

if i’m following you i’ve read your rules !! i’ll assume you’ve done the same if you decide to follow back!

i only have access to the beta editor, sadly. i can try and pull some bullshit but i don't know if it'll work. my apologies.

NSFW.

those who are of age and have characters of age can smut with me. that said, furina is probably not gonna be very easy to fuck. trauma and all that. unless we have pre-established stuff. that's always fun. that said, don't follow just to fuck him, please. gore is also welcomed.

SHIPPING.

i love shipping, so lets do it! platonic, romantic, rivals, familial etc.. love ‘em all! planned or entirely natural, either is fine! if you wanna ship with me just ask! i have no preferences, not really, and i can say the same about furina. both she and i are down to clown with just about anyone. it doesn't even have to be healthy! ( to the tune of tmnt ) codependent toxic yuri/yaoi !

PLEASE DON’T RUSH ME.

full time college student with very limited time to do rp nowadays. i really enjoy writing and all but being rushed to reply makes me lose motivation. however, if i do miss a starter/don’t reply to a thread for a while you can tell me about that!

SELECTIVE + MUTUALS ONLY.

despite me saying this, all in all i probably follow almost everyone back as long as they have a rules + abt page i can find! i don’t follow personals but if you’re a hub or your rp blog is a sideblog, lmk so i can follow you there! if you have a rules + abt page and i don’t follow back LET ME KNOW. sometimes tumblr doesn’t give me notifications and i don’t pay attention to follower count for the most part. i’m really not picky and im not trying to be mean or ignore you !

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

any sort of hate will not be tolerated. if i see you picking on anyone or you pick on me , i will block you. that’s not the way i roll.

NO GODMODDING OR ANYTHING OF THE LIKE.

this is pretty standard , but please don’t control my muse or anything of the sort.

I PRACTICE REBLOG KARMA. KINDA.

i am not a meme archive blog , so if you do rt them please consider sending them!!

I’M FINE WITH ASKS BEING TURNED INTO THREADS!!

just please turn them into separate text posts, please!!

BE FUCKING NORMAL.

y'know. no racism, homophobia, transphobia or pedophilia, incest, and all that gross stuff. instant block. literally just be normal.

#PINNED.

4 notes · View notes

xx-vergil-xx · 1 year

Note

(2/2)

Anyway this was just to say that the line of Hob being the closed end of parenthesis made me more emotional than anything has any right to do because what is one part of the parenthesis if its partner is missing and would you look at that I made myself cry again.

Sorry for throwing this in your inbox and I'm sorry for any mistakes in spelling because I actually can't see my keyboard very well gfhjfghhfg I am off to sit in a dark room and try to gather myself. thank you for this wonderful story and gift you've given the sandman and dreamling fandom ily and Hounds ever so much <3

(p.s this is bookbinding anon btw, who I know you found but I'm always too embarrassed to ask things off of anon so here we are)

hello book binder!! <3 <3 <3 responding to both parts of ur ask in one here bc u rlly made me sit down and. think. about parentheses. my favorite thing in the world is when someone like shares their literal galaxy brain analysis of something w me it is such a gift to hear ur thoughts im like. my god. the implication of losing the opening parenthesis. to be only an end without a start. jesus christ. im actually in deep physical and emotional Agonies about that now holy hell.

thank you so very much for not only ur like genius tier thoughts which have left me physically shaking but also for ur immensely kind words about my writing!! all my love <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

3 notes · View notes

iced-nct · 2 years

Text

Leaked

Pairing: Camboy!Chenle x F Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, smut, choking (?), oral (f receiving. mans knows how to eat. iykyk), enemies to fuck buddies, nudes, Big Dick Chenle agenda, this is FILTH (I love it), alcohol consumption. if I forgot anything please let me know, but as always 18+ MINORS DNI

Synopsis: Having your nudes leaked online is something that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Yet somehow, when it happens to your least favorite coworker, Chenle, he manages to come out the other end with a massive following. When yours get leaked a few hours after, you both agree to track down who at the office is sending these out. Maybe, just maybe, Chenle isn’t as bad as you thought.

A/N: This is my favorite of the camboys I'm not gonna lie. I am so proud of this one.

Chenle might not have set out to be your work nemesis, but he sure didn’t object to the label you placed on him. He sought you out every day to torment you just for fun. The worst part was that he was so well-liked in the office, so you had no one to vent to. Having to endure his endless teasing and pranks while everyone else laughed about how cute he is.

It was a fairly normal Friday morning at the office, and you spent it sifting through the odds and ends of paperwork from throughout the week. Your email open on your screen awaiting clients replies as you were organizing. Had it not been for your neighbors' obnoxious squeal from her cubicle, you might not have looked up to see the unread email in your inbox.

“Oh my god! He looks even better than I imagined!” She shrieked.

Sure enough, there in your email was Chenle’s private photos. You were torn between deleting the email and reporting it to HR, assuming it was another prank. Or continuing to scroll to just take a little peek. He was attractive, there was no denying that. After being witness to the photos you completely understand your coworker's screech. It was warranted. Chenle was unlike anyone you’d seen before, his body was delectable, and that cock... you had to click out of the email before you saw anymore. The raunchy images caused a deep blush to flush across your cheeks.

Chenle strode up to your desk, with a cup of coffee in hand utterly unbothered by the chaos that was consuming the office. He rested his elbows on the wall of your cubicle, staring at your computer screen with intent.

“What’s that?” He tipped his chin to gesture to your email inbox.

Having not heard Chenle come up behind you, he had startled you. It caused a chain reaction of you knocking over the cup of coffee onto your keyboard, desperately trying to wipe it up with your scarf, and in turn opening the explicit email. Chenle spat out his coffee as he stared at his own nude photos on your screen.

“It wasn’t me I swear” You cried, desperation filling your voice.

Just as he was about to open his mouth with a retort, one of your coworkers strode by. Her hand delicately brushing over Chenle’s arm as she spoke with a saccharine voice “Nice photos”

Slowly everyone else began crawling out of the woodwork to purr praises to Chenle. Showering him in compliments about how nice his body is and how they wished he came to the office like that more often. One or two people whispered that they’d be getting off to them later. You didn’t have a moment to breathe before a second email came through, instantly your face paled.

Plastered across everyone’s computers were intimate photos of yourself. The air in the office seemed to thicken and the walls closed in. Not being able to stomach any more of the tension, you grabbed your bag and jacket. On the way out coworkers who had just praised Chenle now sneered at you. They hurled vulgar insults at you as you hurried to the exit. Once in the safety of the elevator you took a moment to breathe, not noticing the man who had followed you out.

“What the fuck just happened” Chenle huffed a breath of relief from beside you.

“It appears my peace and quiet was short-lived" you sighed heavily.

Chenle knocked your shoulder playfully “Oh come on y/n, it happened to me too”

You pondered his response deeply, and supposed he was right. Both of you were justified in leaving work. The only difference was Chenle was praised while you had been scorned.

“It would be easier if I hadn’t gotten called a whore more times than I could count on the way out” you chuckled lightly.

The elevator doors opened and you both emerged in the lobby of the office building. The man grabbed your elbow lightly to lead you outside to the street. “We can go to mine and start investigating. I’d like to email HR by Monday morning” Chenle spoke quietly into your ear.

You struggled to keep up the pace he had set, and his long legs and your heels weren’t helping. You wretched your arm from his grip and he turned to face you. “Why would I go to yours to help you?”

He grinned slowly and slung an arm lazily over your shoulders. “Because it happened to both of us. And I happen to have a talented hacker as a roommate”

You huffed in annoyance but allowed him to lead anyway. He was right, after all. The last thing you wanted was for more photos to get sent. However, you really didn’t want Chenle to know where those photos had come from.

Chenle’s apartment was cleaner than you expected for a single man in his twenties, which was surprising. He gestured for you to take a seat in the living area on his plush leather couch while he grabbed his laptop and made drinks. You sat awkwardly on the sofa, occasionally checking your phone to see another response to your photos. This was shaping up to be an exhausting Friday. Chenle returned a few minutes later with his MacBook and two highball glasses filled with deep amber liquid.

He handed you a glass and you swirled the liquid, the ice cube clinking against the glass. “Whiskey. I figured we’d need something strong after this day” Chenle smirked knowingly.

“Thanks” you raised the glass to your lips, taking a small sip. The whiskey burned down your throat in all the right ways.

You both got to work listing people who had vendettas against each of you. People who generally didn’t like your presence, or people who may have been out for your jobs. The list was small, but not entirely insignificant. There were a few people at the office who weren’t fans of the strained relationship you and Chenle had. But would they truly stoop this low? You hadn’t thought so.

“So, we have our list.” Chenle started “Now we need to figure out how and where they got the photos”

Your breath hitched and you stood up abruptly “Where’s the washroom?”

Chenle pointed down the hall behind him, you padded off quickly. There had to be something you could tell him other than the truth. There was no way you would ever let Chenle know about the side job you had going. You leaned on the counter in his bathroom, the gears turning in your head, coming up with any excuse. Vengeful ex? That might just work. Fake online profile trying to be you? Also believable. Not wanting to risk spending any more time in the bathroom you opened the door. Across the hall was a room filled with an intricate set up of cameras and monitors. You might’ve brushed it off as his roommates had you not seen the framed diplomas on the wall in Chenle’s name.

Peering down the hall towards the living room, you could see the back of his head. He was fully enthralled in whatever it was that he’d found on his laptop. You took the opportunity to tip toe across into his room. It was a toss-up of what was more interesting, the plush king-sized bed covered in soft grey blankets, or the desk that held thousands of dollars in recording equipment. Snooping was bad, and you knew it, but when else would you have this opportunity. All it took was slightly shaking the mouse and the monitor lit up, the screen was illuminated with a camsite you distinctly recognized. It was the same one you used for your side job. But the profile wasn’t yours, it was Chenle’s. Clips of videos played on repeat, the photos in the email having come from his own profile.

“You know the bathroom is on the other side of the hall?” you whipped around to see Chenle leaning against the doorframe. His dress shirt sleeves had been pulled up to his elbows and his tie thrown off somewhere, leaving his top buttons undone.

“I didn’t mean to I was just-” You stumbled over your words, trying to just explain. “I do the same thing” you blurted out.

Chenle’s eyebrows raised for a moment at your confession, before settling back down. His eyes raked over your body. “Yeah. You look like you’d do well on there” his tongue swiped over his lips.

The way he was looking at you turned on something primal within you. You both stood in silence at the discoveries of some strange alter-egos, taking the opportunity to really look at each other in ways you hadn’t before. Chenle had always been hot, and when he was on your team it made him even hotter. It seemed he had the same idea, because you hardly had a moment to react before you were getting pushed down on the mattress. Chenle’s mouth met yours in a flurry of need. Both of you using each other to rid yourselves of the day's frustrations. His lips were soft yet filled with lust as he ran his hands over the swell of your breasts. Your hands wandered down his back and around his front where his growing bulge was pressed against your inner thigh.

He pulled back breathless and stared at you with wonder-filled eyes as you palmed him over his trousers. Chenle leaned into your touch, groaning as you squeezed lightly.

“No no” He stopped and stepped back. “I want to please you first”

Chenle helped you out of the confines of your clothing, leaving you standing naked before him. He hoisted you up onto the bed, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he trailed his lips down your inner thigh.

“So much better than the photos” He murmured into your core.

You whined in anticipation, sensing Chenle’s sadistic smirk as his lips dusted lightly over your folds. “For the love of god, Chenle” You fisted his hair.

The man breathed a soft laugh before diving into you fully. Chenle feasted on you, knowing exactly what to do and how to touch you. His tongue like velvet on your soaked pussy, and you would be seeing stars before you knew it. He took pride in being able to make you feel good, and having you a whimpering mess beneath him. With his tongue lapping over your clit, he slid two fingers into you. This action earned him a string of curses; his laugh sent vibrations through your core. You came undone around his fingers, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

When you looked up to where Chenle stood between your legs, he sucked his fingers into his mouth. Savoring how you tasted. You grasped his shirt in your hands to pull him onto you in a heated kiss. As your tongues met, you could taste yourself. Drunk on the feeling of Chenle, you hadn’t noticed him slip out of his clothes. Pausing your advances to pull off his shirt, now it was your turn to admire his body. Truly those photos hadn’t done him any justice. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock, wanting to feel him inside you. Chenle reached over to his desk drawer, pulling out a condom to roll it on.

Feeling the pressure of Chenle’s body on yours as he pushed into you was heaven. His cock filling you in a delicious way, with one hand resting lightly on your neck and the other rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Hardly able to form coherent sentences as Chenle thrusted into you.

He laughed as he looked down at you “Aw, is baby drunk on my cock already?” you could barely manage a nod, moaning for him instead.

Chenle loved seeing you fucked out for him, he thought it was the most beautiful sight to behold. His teeth grazed across your breast, causing you to hiss in approval. His thrusts were punishing and unrelenting, and the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips was sure to leave bruises come tomorrow. But it would all be worth it for the best sex you’ve had. Chenle whispered dirty things in your ear about how many times he’s thought of bending you over your desk at work and fucking you senseless. Your nails dragged down his back as he ravaged you, just to mark him the way he had with you. He sucked deep purple welts across your chest, a reminder for days to come for who made you feel this good.

His thrusts slowed, and you both panted heavily. Chenle’s head dropped to your shoulder as you came, your walls clenching around him. He finished just as you did, a low grunt in your ear as you clawed his shoulders, pulling him deeper. You both laid there for a moment, catching your breath. Chenle pulled away to tidy up, he disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself up before returning with a warm cloth to wipe you down. A ghost of a smile played across your lips as he settled onto the bed next to you. Both of you laying together in silence, your fingers tracing over Chenle’s toned chest.

“So” you breathed “what now?”

He looked intently at you “now, we figure out who at work is obsessed with us.”

The search continued well into the night. Taking a few more breaks for pleasure in between.

Taglist: (If you like my works and want to be added, let me know!) @vantxx95 @yoooori

469 notes · View notes