Latest Posts by pillowtalk6 - Page 2

YAYY MORE LESTER FAN FICC🥳

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

bear hybrid price and bunny hybrid reader :(( she stumbled into his cave and poor lonely price needed a mate, he'd be so gentle with her, even when the tip of his cock is roughly slamming against her womb, whispering praises to her as he fucked her against soft animal pelts

of course my love!

18+ MDNI

cw: hybrid smut, bunny!reader, bear!price, fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), doggy style

you didn’t know what you got yourself into! you just wanted some warmth from the cold night.. you had no idea you’d end up in a bear’s cave.

price knew what you were here for, some warm shelter and a place to lie for the night. but he couldn’t resist sneaking up behind you and placing his rough hands on your soft skin.

he runs them up and down your delicate flesh as makes his way in between your legs. price can’t even remember the last time he felt someone like this, let alone a pretty bunny.

your fluffy and floppy ears, that gorgeous tail, he can’t hold back! you’re lucky he doesn’t just take you now..

he ravages your cunt with his mouth to prepare you for his cock, his soft tongue contrasting with his rough and prickly fur on his face. he wets your sensitive pussy with his spit, slurping and sucking on your sex with a ravenous hunger.

your back arches and your legs kick and twitch within price’s strong grip to hold you still. echoes of your whiney moans fill the dark cave, making price’s cock grow harder with each whimper you let out.

once he’s got you prepped, you’re bent over on knees receiving the bear’s hard cock. price pounds into you, finally letting out the sexual frustration he’s bottled up for all this time.

with each thrust, the fat flesh of your ass jiggles and your puffy tail jumps. price holds your fluffy ears like handles to drive himself into you hard and fast .his cock head kisses your cervix and finds a home in your gummy walls.

“just a slutty bunny, taking my cock perfectly.”

ty for the ask!!

how do you think könig would react to seeing his bulge through you when hes going in and out <3

König Reaction to You Having a Stomach Bulge

Warnings: 18+, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Pretty Much what it says in the Title, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

F E R A L

König's a possessive guy, so to see you completely vulnerable, at his mercy, with himself being barely capable of fitting inside you, has his brain firing on all cylinders.

Definitely comments on it, panting:

"So...small– so– tight,"

That's actually how you got Maus as your nickname. Because, compared to König, he thought you were tiny. And this just proves his point.

It validates him, in his own way. The fact that he's this big swells his ego beyond measure.

König's also a bit sadistic, so if you start crying because it's too painful–

Man is GONE

Say goodbye to your ability to see straight tomorrow.

You're not going to be able to leave the bed by the time König's done with you.

That's what you get for inadvertently inflating his ego.

He also degrades you.

A lot.

"Can't even take all of me and yet you beg for more. Tch. Pathetic."

He makes it up to you afterwards, though ;)

Because he loves you <333

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this –  cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you  – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven,  creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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!! 18+ MDNI !!

cw: fem reader, stepcest, stepdad!price, age gaps (early 20's - early 50's), puppy hybrid!reader, short reader, musk kink, cockwarminh, consensual somno, breeding kink, hairy dad bod price !!

stepdad!price who's infatuated with puppy hybrid! reader, always eating her out until she cries !! she's so dumb and airheaded and doesn't understand that it's wrong bcs it makes her stepdad happy and her puppy parts all tingly !!

stepdad!price who bends her over his lap to inspect her tiny puppycunt to make sure she's not fooling around with any icky boys !! making sure that she knows he'll be able to tell bcs of her broken hymen (poor dumb thing doesn't realise that can't happen :(()

he's so obsessed with how her tail goes all rigid when she cums, overstimulating her on a vibe all the time just to see it happen !!

he knows its wrong, she's barely even 20 and he's in his 50's, but if he wants a healthy litter he needs to pump her fertile womb with his seed !!

stepdad!price who lets her hump her cunnie on his hairy and squishy tummy, letting her overstimulate herself and cover him in her cream :((

she constantly has her head in his neck or armpits after he works out, going all dumb with how heady and masculine he smells :((

he only ever fucks her ass because she's just too precious to pop her cherry now, not when they're not married :(( he still has her mother to deal with, once she's out of the question he'll spend weeks breeding her and making sure she's stuffed full of his cum, she'll give him a nice and healthy litter of pups !! all swollen and pregnant from his seed :((

always fucking her full nelson and standing to show her how tiny she is compared to him :(( he's so big and muscular and hairy :((

letting her give him sloppy kissed because she's so inexperienced and does know how to kiss him properly :((

cockwarms him on her knees, his length impaled into her throat, her head on his thigh as he strokes her puppy ears and hair, not moving as she falls asleep, waking her up by violently thrusting up into her, watching as she gags and moans around him <33

forcing her into prone bone and putting her into a headlock, her cheeks squished against his massive biceps as she squirts repeatedly, the plug of her womb being mashed and abused :(( his hairy and squishy tummy settling on her back perfectly as his weight forces her into place :3

he always gets her to sit on his lap so he can finger her, only ever using his ring and middle finger with his palm up, it's the easiest way to stir up her puppycunt and find that little reset button in her that has her drooling and cumming !!

stepdad price! that always looks so proud when she's worshiping his cock :((

"Tha's it luv, such a good girl f'me huh..?"

"Ffffuucckkk, gag on my cock like that again, c'mon, i know you can do it, such a dumb girl f'me"

(i have no clue what this is 😽 unedited ofc)

stepdad!price x innocent!reader

note: this is a prequel to a possible series with stepdad!price x innocent!reader (obviously). reader is of age.

note 2: price is 37 reader is about 18-19 (DARK STORY !!!!!), reader gets picked up by price, 6'5 beefy price, shorter reader

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

lying your head on your stepfather's shoulder, you pressed your front against his side--leg thrown over his as you two got comfortable on the couch as you began watching a movie. a blanket thrown over the two of you as you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, nibbling on your lower lip as you focused intently on the movie.

price let out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing from you to the tv to you again.

don't do it.

she's forbidden fruit.

but she is the sweetest fruit of all.

he kissed the top of your head, and you replied with his action by taking his hand under the blanket and absent-mindedly twisting the rings on his finger.

one of his rings: the wedding band.

the wedding band from the wedding between your mother and him.

it seared his skin.

he could not help that he had gotten married to the wrong person.

it should have been you.

but he had to remind himself that you were much too young.

freshly an adult. and he was 37. 37.

what the fuck was wrong with him?

he can't help that he fell in wrong with you.

you were too young..too innocent. too pure. he had blood on his hands.

your small hands fidgeted with his large, warm ones as you traced his knuckles with your cold fingers, creating odd designs that warmed his chest.

he must have been much too into his thoughts, as you giggled at something that happened in the movie, grasping and ungrasping his hand as you continued to fidget with his rings.

you looked up at him, your lips so close to his as you smiled softly. everything in him wanted to capture your lips in a kiss. your first kiss.

but he knew he couldn't.

instead, his softened eyes watched your face with pure love.

you snuggled impossibly closer to him, practically on his lap.

"honey?" his voice was deep but soft. he cleared his throat.

your eyes watched the television, never leaving them as you hummed a small, "hm?"

price thought for a moment.

your mother was out for the weekend. he could have you now...

no.

"uh, nothin'." he concluded, and you paid no mind. his right hand crept down to your exposed thighs that were thrown over his lap. he tried to ignore the intense throbbing and want that thrummed under his jean zipper.

he slowly tickled his fingers along the span of your thigh, down your calf and to your frilly-socked foot as you cutely wiggled your toes. his index traced along the delicate laced-ruffles--then down to rub the inside of your foot.

after a bit, his hand made its way back up to the side of your thigh again, running his fingers along the soft skin.

he looked over at you again.

god, how were you so beautiful?

his whole being ached with want.

he loved you so much it hurt his heart.

"that a new bow?" he asked, pinching the pink knot at the base of your messy pony tail.

you nodded, excitedly. "mm hm! do u like it?"

you always wanted his approval, and he knew that.

"i love it, sweetheart, 's beautiful jus' like you." he smiled, watching your face darken with a red blush. you giggled shyly.

"thank you, daddy." you replied quietly, still fidgeting with his hand under the blanket.

daddy.

god, were you trying to kill him?

he knows you've always had a bit of a crush on him. ever since you two met.

and he's only a little ashamed to say he immediately fell for you when you both met.

he was with the wrong girl.

he loves times like this though.

it is probably bad to say, but he loves when your mother is gone.

it reminds him of a life he could have possibly one day with you...away from it all. he has the money to start a new life with you, just not the opportunity yet.

he loves when you walk into the kitchen, stuffie pressed against your chest, hair messy, lips n eyes puffy with sleep; his t-shirt on and your cute little pink panties.

he loves when your sleepy. you cuddle up closer to him.

just this morning you stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at your tired eyes.

price was already dressed for the day--up since 6 am.

"good morning, sweet girl." his voice made your heart flutter.

you whined, padding to where he leaned back on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately. he picked you up with ease, kissing your face as you giggled.

he sat down on the couch as you straddled him tiredly, head pressed against his beefy chest.

"you're my favorite girl, y'know that?" he whispered, petting your hair.

it was true.

you were his absolute favorite.

and he was not just about to give that up.

random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝

—🎀—

Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.

“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.

And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.

At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.

An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.

Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.

“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”

“Do you want that, Schnucki?”

All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

König would totally fuck you in a full nelson for the first time, when you're placed into a position where you're helpless and defenceless against his cruelty, left vulnerable and shaking uncontrollably at his brutality and violence.

He bucks and drives his well-built hips skyward into your plush rear, burying his girthy, meaty cock inside your sleek, drooling cunt while gushing about how perfect and adorable you look like this, how he's been longing and yearning for this exact moment. He can't get enough of the pulsing and tightening sensation wrapped around his girth, the sensation of your clammy, slick, and sticky walls pulsating and throbbing around the base of his fat, sweaty boner. Pearly droplets of your sweet nectar arousal rush down his veiny shaft, coating and covering him in your addictive fluids.

He'll bind your wrists with rope, wrapping them around his neck while supporting your weight by gripping your soft, supple thighs firmly. You can feel König's thumping, beating heart slamming against his brute chest with each deep, rough, and violating thrust. He breathes down your neck, creating an aching and sticky mess between your legs.

And despite this, König still won't understand why you're so hesitant to have sex with him! :(

Stepdad!König taking a call from your mother while she’s at work - and while he’s brutalizing your sweet pussy in your room, his hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speaks to your mother over the phone like normal 😊

Phone cw: p in v, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, smut, rough sex, creampie, exhibitionism?, tell me if I missed any.

Your heart jumped out of you chest when his phone rang, you panicked, but König looked unbothered, reaching over to pick it up as he kept up his pace, driving his hips forward roughly and ruthlessly. He chuckled lowly, showing you the caller: your mother. Your breath hitched, teary eyes widening and mouth agape with drool rolling down the corner of your lips, you struggled against him, begging for him to ignore the call or to stop if he wanted to answer it.

“You can keep quiet, can’t you, Schatz?”

“No no- please-!”

His hand came down on your mouth, muffling your cries and whimpers, pleading for him to adhere to common sense. Despite your cries, he answered the phone, clicking on speaker - to antagonize you - and your mother’s voice rang out in the room. He greeted her with a normal hi, his tone calm even through the strenuous session, rocking into you, his thick girth and throbbing cock milking your cunt of the load he left this morning after she left.

“I’m sorry for calling so suddenly, hun,” she sounded tired, spending the day working until 7pm.

“It’s okay,” König hummed, placing the phone down beside your head, beside your covered mouth and tear-streaked cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be home later than usually,” she sighed, oblivious to your muffled whines. “I’m going to swing by that Italian place, do you want anything?”

Unlike your choked mewls and breathless keens, your stepdad was still, chest puffing up and pressing down on you, shifting your legs over his shoulders as he drove himself deeper. He was rough, thrusts hard and words degrading, cooing in your ear harsh, degrading names. Telling you what a slut you were for you stepdad, how you were a bitch for whoring around him and Horangi in skimpy shorts and baggy shirts, and how your sweet pussy was so wet and loud for him.

“Could you ask (Name) about supper?”

“Give me a second, ja?”

He flashed you a mean grin, putting the call on mute for better acting, playing the scene of him walking towards your room or where ever you were. His hand moved down to your neck, giving you a hard grip and holding you down, folding you in half, knees bent to your shoulders and feet jerking over his head. Seeming satisfied with his manhandling, the wet slaps of his hips hitting your thighs louder and the head of his cock ramming your spongy cervix, he picked up the phone, unmuting it and pressing it to your ear.

“Dear?”

“H-hi mom-” you gasped, the heavy curve of his cock and the bulging veins rubbing your back wall, you spasmed around him, teeth biting down on your lower lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip.

“You remember that Italian place we went last week?”

“Ye-ah-yeah.”

She paused, her silence ringing louder than every slap that made your stomach bulge. You feared that she heard your slip up, the high-pitched mewl and pants you let out; you feared that crooked grin on his scarred lips and that proud and scheming gleam in his eyes. He changed his fast and rough pace for a deep and precise one, repeatedly aiming for that spot that made your eyes roll and back arch, finger thumbing your engorged clit.

“Are you okay?” You hated the worried tone mixed with that exhaustion, it picked at your heart.

“Yes-!” It came out harsher than you intended, pearly tears slipping from your squinted eyes.

König’s manhandling and pointed hits made your walls clench around him, the coil in your navel tightening to a delirious amount, making your head spin and mind dumb.

“Okay… Do you want anything for tonight?”

“Ro-rosé, please.”

“All right, I’ll see you tonight then.”

Any later and she would have heard you scream your mind off, you let moans roll off your tongue without restraint, nails digging into his back and back arched upward. He lowered your legs to his elbows, opening your legs to watch you come, your cunt swallowing him to the base, pumping in and then back out with a white ring around is cock from your shared pleasure. He made a sound of satisfaction, hands wandering down to grip your hips, riding out his pleasure leisurely and yours a fiery white blaze that burned through your body.

“You heard her, ja? Looks like we have more time to play.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

Can I request for anything about Konig’s balls??I mean anything because I feel like he will have such a big balls,perfect for breeding.

fuck yeah. könig breeding you bc his balls are too full :((

mdni. dub-con if you squint, breeding kink if you stare, raw dogging, creampie.

the whole thing was so ungraceful and a little in bad taste. he’d barged into your quarters without a knock or a text, eyes wild behind that black hood of his and before you knew it, you were on all fours, tits forced against the mattress with your head pressed into your pillows and arse in the air.

you’d caught sight of his bare cock when he freed it of its confinents, angry and fucking huge. his cockhead was red and crying fat tears of pre-cum, so swollen and engorged. his balls weren’t having a much easier time, the poor things looked like they’d burst at the touch — so painfully round and heavy.

now you find yourself getting fucked into the mattress, hardened nipples rubbing uncomfortably against the material of your bed sheets whilst this giant of a man rams his cock into your tight cunt. he’s chasing his desires like a man starved, hungry to explode all of his pent-up seed deep into your little uterus. he’s so full of cum that he knows he can fuck you full with his child, drown your insides in his semen until he has nothing left to give.

he’s animalistic with his treatment of you, rutting like he might die in your pussy if he slows his pace. if he died between those legs of yours, scheiße, he’s dying a happy man — but not until he’s stuffed you full of his own. he’ll empty everything he’s got until your belly bloats and your womb expands, and when his product leaks from you he’ll fuck you again to make sure it takes.

you’re whimpering! moans muffled by your mattress and the puddle of drool that dribbles from your gaping mouth. he’s so fucking massive — a unit of a man. a terminator on the field, and between the sheets apparently. you can feel how deep inside of you he’s pistoning, shoving himself into nooks and crannies you’re only now learning you’ve got.

his heavy balls slap against your arse cheeks, probably bruising them and leaving red imprints in their wake. you can feel how heavy with cum they are, and you briefly wonder when the last time it was that he fucked his fist. no man you’ve ever been with has had swollen balls like könig’s, but you’ve never been with a man like könig on any area of the spectrum. never have you been impaled like this with the fear that if he fucks you any deeper, you’ll be tasting him on your tongue. at this rate he’s gonna puncture your lung.

you swear to the bearded fella in the sky that this brick shithouse of a man is actually penetrating your womb, whether that defies the laws of physics or otherwise, he’s fucking massive and you can feel his cockhead slamming into something. whatever it is, it feels like a slice of cherry fucking heaven and the weight of his balls against your hind starts to pulsate as he gets ready to empty them inside of you.

and when he does, he’s pumping you full thoroughly. there’s not an inch of your insides that remains uncovered by his hot, ropey seed. his balls feel lighter with each hard thrust of his hips, his raspy grunts getting louder as he becomes more sensitive within the coated sleeve of your cunt. but he won’t stop. he won’t stop until your walls are painted white, clogged with his cum and your belly home to his kid :((

Hear me out on Boxer König.. With a sweet doting wife reader who he comes home to after literally beating up a whole line of men 🥰

She’s constantly fussing over the smallest scratch and nasty bruise he’s gotten after a win. (His opponent probably looks much worse though). Just imagining his pretty wife sitting on his lap wiping the faint blood left on his busted lip and even insisting on spoon feeding him and babying him. as if he doesn’t lift twice her weight…

The sex ranges from wholesome and cute with her riding on top of him with a smile on her face or downright NASTY with prone bone or mating press. Ohhh to imagine König and his big strong body 😋😋😋

oh baby i am LISTENING 🧏🏻‍♀️🧏🏻‍♀️🧏🏻‍♀️

cockwarming, cock riding, belly bulge, prone bone, creampie, fluffy end. MDNI 18+

you were sat comfortingly in könig’s lap — his cock stiff and snug inside of you, visibly bulging just shy of your belly button — whilst your feet swung back and forth above the floor, forkfuls of his favourite meal delivered ‘via aeroplane’ into his open mouth. you just love it when he lets you cater to him like that.

maroon-stained cotton balls and tissues littered the table from when you’d disinfected his facial injuries, dressing the small cuts and ‘kissing’ the bruises better. eventually, his hands latched impatiently to your bent hips, moving them manually so his cockhead rubbed at your cervix. you immediately clenched around him, biting down on your lip whilst you continued to spoon-feed him.

he began to grind you down onto him harder and more deliberately as you shared kisses between his mouthfuls, wet and lingering. you could taste your cooking on his tongue, mixed with that of his blood. then you licked the fork clean, sucking it in a ridiculously provocative way that had him twitching inside of you.

now you lay flat on your front, breasts scraping uncomfortably against the wood of the dining table whilst he drills into your pretty cunny, his thighs flexing either side of yours. the bloodied medical supplies are scattered across the floor, his dinner plate now a forgotten pile of ceramic shards whilst the table legs creak and jolt beneath your combined weight.

“mmf-! fuck~” you whimper, toes curling behind you when the slick bush at his thick base massages your puckered arse hole. your body, tiny in comparison to his terrifying size, propels forward as his pelvis sloppily bashes against the flesh of your inflamed cheeks — sore and tender from the force.

“you take such good care of me.” he groans above you, thrusting into you so deeply that your nipples burn from the friction of him propelling you. “let me do the same.” you mewl pornographically at his promise, fingers biting at the wood beneath you when your core starts to twist and churn. droplets of his blood or possibly sweat drip onto your back, only adding to your arousal once picturing how good he must feel inside of you if it’s reopening his wounds.

the rough expanse of his palm smothers whatever it is all over your back, and he slips himself from you entirely before driving himself back in again. your head spins, chin smacking the table with thanks to his wild and animalistic rutting; but you don’t care.

and once he’s fucked a brain-numbing orgasm out of you, and fucked his own deep into your womb, he’s suddenly incredibly aware of your ragdoll state — limp and exhausted. he rolls you onto your back, swallowing at the red-raw sight of your breasts and stomach. he lifts you into him, locking your legs around his waist since you’re still too weak to even move your own limbs.

so he carries you to bed, working his mouth down your body inch by inch so he can try his hand at ‘kissing you better’ <33

Based on your request, stoner König who breeds you while he is high as fuck and breeds you again in the morning when he is not high because he can not remember breeding you the night before

primary warnings are in the request + non-con 🍃 mdni 𓉸ྀི 𓅩

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you cry, one hand slapped to your panting mouth while the other presses against his chest. he’s got you pinned in a mating press, overpowering your struggles as he fucks his cum into your quivering cunny. he won’t stop fucking cumming. this has to be the fifth load he’s spunked out. a milky ring of cream coats the fat base of his cock as he pistons it in and out at a ferocious speed — like he’s a power drill and you’re concrete.

“könig, stop. stop.” you beg, eyes pleading with his for mercy. but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at the way his thick cock disappears deep into your cunt over and over and over again. his eyes are bloodshot, hooded and glazed over with a film of absence. your lips tremble, tears running down your sweaty cheeks as you thrash and writhe in his grip. his hands are splayed over the underside of your tucked-up legs, leaning his entire weight on the bent muscles of them for leverage. his angle is so deep, cockhead bulging in your lower belly as he prepares to empty his swollen balls into you yet again.

he only grunts, skin still snacking yours as his hips drive down into yours. he alternates grinding and rolling them, the massive, hairy bottom portion of his dick abusing your clit with every hard thrust. he looks ravenous and fucking psychotic above you, face languid as sporadic groans of your name tumble from his parted lips. he was blabbering about how pretty you’d look carrying his child when he took his first bong hit, and an hour later you’ve found yourself on the receiving end of impregnation.

“it hurts, please stop.” you sniff, eyes spurting impressive fountains of tears when he moves one hand to stamp on your stomach — applying pressure to your uterus as it squeezes and contracts around his semen. you cunt clamps down on him and he croaks out a sentence in german, which you’re fairly certain consisted of promises to fertilise you with his generous seed.

webs of ropey, white fluid squirt from your tortured hole as he pumps you full once more. so full in fact, that he’s actually plunging his cum out of you because you’re overflowing with his product, spilling it back out because your cervix is so flooded. his kids are gonna be leaking out of you for days, ruining your knickers and thighs :((

and come morning, he’s sticking it in you again, before you’ve even had chance to wake up. he’s sober now, talking of dreams about you nurturing his offspring. “i think after last night, those dreams will come true.” you try to remind him, but he’s not having it. he needs to fuck his baby into your empty tummy right now. it’s all he can think about and he won’t rest until your stomach is rounded with the growth of his kin.

imagine könig, the big man he is, slamming his massive dick in and out of you, not caring if it 'doesn't fit'. he will make it fit. he will. he'll manhandle you into various positions, the ones he wants to fuck you in that moment. you'll probably start crying by the time he chases his second release or when he decides to fill both of your tight holes and pushes a dildo or a plug into you. or maybe a vibrator. it really depends on his mood and how good you've been for him. squirming away won't help if he's balls deep into your sloppy cunt, the grip his massive hands have on you holds you like you're a doll to him. which you are.

Could we get some König with a SERIOUS breeding kink? Like- it’s all that’s on his mind with the reader- I love your work sm

bf!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, breeding kink!

from a very young age, könig knew he wanted to be a father. he loved the idea of ​​having a family, a wife and son to take care of.

his relationships throughout his life didn't last long because as soon as könig found out his partner didn't want children, he ended the relationship. he didn't want to waste his time with someone who didn't share his desire.

until you came along. the perfect girl to bear his heirs and with whom to build his precious family. the children loved you, and you had a natural gift for caring for them.

every time you and könig went to the park, the children would crowd around you, asking you to play with them or asking a thousand questions about how you and könig met. könig simply watched you, imagining you playing with his children.

so, könig began planning and doing everything possible to get you pregnant as soon as possible. he would take you shopping at the mall, and the two of you would discreetly end up in the baby clothing section, where he would show you the tiny clothes and tell you how nice it would be to be able to dress his children like that.

or when one afternoon he started telling you about all the negative effects that contraceptives had on your body.

"don't you think it's better to stop taking it? i think having a baby isn't as harmful as the effects of those pills, right?"

könig became so insistent that you decided to stop taking the pill, under the promise that he would always use a condom.

in his spare time, könig would read online about the best positions for getting pregnant and which month of the year was best to avoid experiencing pregnancy symptoms. he would spend hours watching videos of new parents, their advice and experiences, imagining himself in that situation with you.

the key moment was when he took you to meet his family for christmas. all the women in his family accepted you as one of their own, making könig feel even more confident that you were the woman of his life. especially when his grandmother approached him and whispered:

"she's perfect, when will you give me a great-grandchild?"

a week later, könig had already bought a house for the two of them to live together. strategically chosen in a private area with a kindergarten just a few blocks away. that night I'll fuck you on the new mattress.

"your pussy is squeezing me so good. you really want my cum, huh?"

you bounced on his fat cock while your breasts bounced on his face. könig gripped your hips, helping you keep the rhythm and groping his skin possessively.

your clit thumped against his belly button, drawing eager moans from your mouth and encouraging you to keep bouncing. both of your juices trickled down könig's cock to his balls, making the most pornographic sound.

"let's start our little family, i'm going to give you my cum and you're going to give me the most beautiful children."

you tried to form words, but they wouldn't come out. könig wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you toward him and thrusting into you hard. you lay back against his chest and let könig fuck you until he finished inside you.

"take it, baby. good girl, good job, mama."

the weeks passed, and könig took advantage of every moment to fuck you and fill you with his semen. it wasn't long before your period missed and you were forced to take a test.

positive.

by then, könig already had a long list of baby names.

gross!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, piss kink, dubcon!

"baby, i miss u so much"

könig's cock was so deep inside you that you could feel it even in your gut. your legs were on his shoulders and he was on top of you, almost crushing you with his weight.

it had only been 3 days since you had seen each other, but for könig it seemed like an eternity. he missed you and your pussy so much that the first thing he did when he saw you was take you to his room and fuck you like an animal.

"you love how my fat cock opens you up, don't you? my little cumslut"

könig sped up his thrusts, leaving you almost breathless every time his cock hit your cervix. he laid down even further on top of you, crushing you and making his thrusts go deeper. soon he brought his mouth to your neck and began to drool desperately.

"kö, slow down please"

your pleas were in vain, all that mattered to könig now was finishing inside you.

you felt that familiar sensation, his warm, thick load filling you to the point that it was starting to leak out even though könig was still inside you. suddenly, you felt a strange sensation. it was hot and liquid, and it was starting to fill your insides.

you looked at könig, who was looking into your eyes with a smirk. the son of a bitch just pissed INSIDE you.

he laugh softly notices your expression, as if he were a child who had just done something mischievous.

"i'm sorry, i just couldn't help myself. don't be mad at me, please?"

Hobie x Squirter!Reader

Reader be making a mess but she can’t help it :,(, it’s Hobies fault yk! she gets embarrassed about it everytime and always apologizes in the midst of her 🌰

Until Hobie just rams her until the bed is completelyyyyy soaked and Reader is dehydrated because… he doesn’t care 🥱

:3

Squirting

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

Warning/s: smut, p in v, I don't know just unholy shit

You were a moaning mess as Hobie was pounding into you, his dick reaching your cervix everytime he did so. Your moans got louder as you clenched around him, letting him know you were close.

Your problem was that you were a huge squirter. Of course, you and Hobie had sex before, and the first few times you squirted he just thought he made you feel really good, then later on both of you were too fucked out to notice you were squirting your juice all over him. But you were embarassed, leaving the bed always drenched in your cum, along with Hobie's face.

He thrusted into you one last time, his hips stuttering has he pulled out to cum on your thighs, only to be met with the sight of you struggling beneath him. He then noticed he had accidentally edged you, making you whine. He chuckled "'m sorry doll, thought you were cumming already" he started rubbing your clit with his thumb while inserting his middle and ring finger into you, making you moan out loudly. Fuck, he was going to see you squirt all over him just because of his fingers.

Your face was flushed as you bucked your hips, finally getting your release with your face scrunched up. And there it was, your cum completely soaking the bed sheets underneath you, along with Hobies hand. You whimpered, mumbling out apologies non stoppingly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"What're you sorry for?" Hobie interrupted you, feigning innocence. He knew damn well.

"For making a mess" you mumbled shyly, but as you looked up at him you were met with the sight of a smirk plastered across his face. Before you could question anything, his face lowered down to your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours as he licked a stripe off of your cunt. You moaned, clenching your thighs around him.

"You think a bit o' a mess 's gonna stop me from fuckin' you?"

You blushed, nodding slightly.

He grinned "guess I gotta prove my girl wrong" and his dick was back into you instantly. You gripped the sheets tightly, your mouth falling open as he didn't give you any time to adjust, literally just fucking your soul out. It didn't take long to make you cum, he noticed on the way you had started rambling, but he could only understand his name and a few plea's.

You reached your orgasm quickly, squirting all over his cock this time. He grunted "good girl, good fuckin' girl" and his praise immediately sent you over your edge again, surprising the both of you. However, Hobie was proud of his work. He made sure to tease you alot about it later. He didn't stop pounding into you, but his dick was covered in your juice, making his thrusts sloppy while your cum dripped down from the both of you.

Hobie pulled out one orgasm after another from you, sometimes using his mouth to make you cum, or his fingers, his dick, he also made you grind on his thigh twice, only for his thigh to end up as drenched as ever. You had started feeling overstimulated a long time ago, but this didn't stop Hobie and you were fully convinced he did, in fact, love making you squirt, even if everything ended up messy afterwards, which included the both of you.

You were bouncing on his cock, whining and biting into his shoulder as tears spilled out of your eyes. "H-hobie.. n..no more, please" you whimpered, your pussy fucked raw and puffy. He chuckled, "you can do one more sweetheart, 'tll be the last, yeah?"

Your eyes fought to stay awake, however you nodded, you couldn't say no to him. "So obedient" he mumbled, helping you to ride him. Your moans had turned into broken whimpers as your orgasm arrived once again. You felt his dick twitch in you and you immediately knew he was close too. He gripped you harder, slowly picking you up so his dick wasn't in you anymore, until he slammed you down, earning a loud scream from you and a moan from him. He did this a few more times, but soon you two were panting and with one more last big thrust he came deep into you, while you drenched his lap.

Your exhausted body went limp on him and you were able to hear his chuckles as he kissed your face. "Luv"

You hummed in response and he gripped your chin with his hand, making you look down to the bed which was fully wet, then to the cum on his lap which was dripping down to the sheets.

"Fuck"

---

Bonus

Your body was hugging Hobie's, your legs around his waist and your head in his chest while he held your thighs. Naked, along with you, he picked you up, walking to the kitchen right after you two had the time of your lifes. As he had arrived to the kitchen, he had dragged a towel with him, placing it on the counter with you on top of it. He felt sorry for you after you had pleaded him to just take a towel, you didn't want to cause any more mess.

He stood between your legs, filling a glass with water "drink"

He placed the glass against your lips, and as you didn't gulp it down he spoke up "drink, luv, don't want my whore to faint just because of how many times I could make her squirt"

You blushed, squirming slightly and taking a sip out of the glass.

"Good girl"

Masterlist

I love hobei so much 🩷

Hobie meets your cats for the first time.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!Reader / Spider-Punk x f!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: Smut Implied, Kissing, established relationship, no use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader.

Synopsis: your cats interrupt your alone time with Hobie.

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Your keys jingle in your hands as you try and find the right key to your flat, you would've found it earlier, if it weren't for Hobie hugging you from behind while kissing your neck distractingly. 

"Hobie, can you wait till we get inside?" You crane your neck to look at him. You sigh in pleasure.

"Mmph?" He answers while his lips are still on your skin. 

"I can't find my keys, you're distracting me" you try not to move your neck to the left to give him more access to your skin, you bite your tongue instead to focus on choosing the right key. 

Hobie stops kissing you for a moment to grab your key ring from your fumbling hands. "Let me try" 

You miss the press of his lips on your skin when he pulls away, still reeling from the feeling, you forgot to roll your eyes at Hobie. This is his first time at your place. How would he know which key?

Click

Of course the door opens after only two tries. Hobie smirks at you teasingly. 

You finally roll your eyes, snatching your keys from Hobie swiftly. 

The second you're inside, Hobie attacks your neck once again, pushing you towards a wall, he cages you in his arms as he pushes the door closed with his foot. 

He kisses the underside of your chin, forcing you to look at your beige ceiling. He nips and licks at your skin passionately. Grabbing the back of his neck to guide him towards your lips, you kiss him, while your free hand grabs one of his belt loops to pull him towards you, closing in the small gap between you. Heat emanates from the both of you. 

Meow

A small mewl stops you both in your tracks, you both look to the side breathlessly, stuck in the same position, Hobie raises his brow.

"Oi, bruv, d'you mind? We're having a moment here" He gestures to you. 

"Meoww" the orange tabby cat pushes her empty bowl in front of her. The sound of the bowl moving across your wooden floors acts like a dinner bell, two more cats appear from somewhere.

"Ah, shit, it's way past their feeding time" you look at Hobie apologetically. 

"I don't mind" he pecks your lips, as if to say: we'll continue this later.

"I'm really sorry," You rub his kiss bitten lips with your thumb to swipe some sheen off them "I'll make it up to you later, I promise" 

You turn your back from Hobie still holding his hand, you slowly let go when you went further in your home. 

Once you're in your kitchen preparing their food, Hobie crouches down in front of the orange tubby.

"Cockblocker" he scoffs while Hobie holds out his hand for the cat to smell. The cat tentatively sniffs at his outstretched hand. Once she's satisfied, she bumps her head on his hand. She looks at the other cats then back to Hobie.

The other two follow her lead and they both sniff at him, one of them, a cream colored shorthair, moves towards Hobie's legs, she begins to circle around him while she rubs her face on his leg. 

The last cat, black as the night, stares at Hobie with his bright green eyes, his eyes turn to slits as if to say - you're good to stay, but I'm watching you.

You finally head back to Hobie, Gasping at the scene in front of you. 

"Oh. My. God." You squeal, quickly grab your phone to snap a picture of the adorable moment. 

Hobie looks up at you "guess they like me" he gives you a lopsided smile, the previous emotion slowly dissipates around you both.

"This is a miracle, they usually don't like new people" 

Hobie stands up to his full height, careful not to step on the cats. "They've probably smelled me off you before" 

Heat rises on your cheeks with his implication, you cross your arms to not give away the effect he has on you. He saunters towards you, the cats run off towards their food. 

"Do you have catnip on you?" You eye him suspiciously. 

Hobie chuckles deeply "Nah, cats just have a natural affinity towards me" he grabs your face lovingly, "you wanna frisk me, to make sure?" He gives you his signature smirk. 

You let out a breath you've been holding. He comes closer to you until he's mere inches away,

"Fuckin' hell! What is that?" 

He lets you go, running towards your cat tree. Your excitement deflates. 

"It's their cat tree, the employee at the pet store called it a cat condo" you huff at another interruption. 

"A condo? Love, that's a full on mansion right there" he gestures toward the expansive structure, numerous branches, platforms and cubbies hang on it. 

"Too much?" You wince, terrified he might get turned off by it. 

"For them? Nah, I'm sure it's worth every penny" he looks at it, curious to see if he can DIY a few more floors to add to it.

"You wanna meet them formally?" He turns back around, he sees you carrying the orange tubby, her full stomach protruding.

"Yes," Hobie says a little too fast. 

You bounce the orange blob, "her name's Crumpet! She's the oldest one," you whisper the next part "I adopted her five years ago" 

"Why are you whispering?" 

"Because she doesn't know she's adopted" you whisper back. 

Hobie looks at you fondly, "dork" he softly says as he holds Crumpet's paw, "your mum's a dork" he looks at Crumpet with a smile. 

"Myeow" she answers back 

"I think that means she knows" you chuckle at your own joke.

"You're my dork" Hobie leans towards you for a kiss, he finds you adorable, he thinks you deserve a kiss just for that. 

Before he could though, he felt movement around his leg. He looks down to see your other cat, the cream colored one. 

"Oh," you clear your throat, trying to push down your excitement again. "That one is Teacup, When I got her she was so tiny she could fit inside a teacup" 

Hobie chuckles at the name "Tea and Crumpets, then?"

You nod, "Yep, and that one," you point with your head since your hands are occupied, at the black void sitting on top of your kitchen counter, looking directly at Hobie. "Is Crowley!" 

Upon hearing his name, Crowley drops down gracefully, he rubs his face on your leg, purring loudly. 

"He's a bit overprotective, ain't he?" Hobie looks at Crowley. Crowley glared at Hobie when he spoke. 

"Well, he is the man of the house" you shrug, as you sit down on your sofa. 

The second your back hit the soft plush of the sofa, your other two cats ran towards you, Crowley curls around himself on your lap while Teacup sits next to you looking at Hobie, like she's waiting for him.

You notice Hobie still standing, inviting him to sit next to you by patting the space closest to you. 

"Nyeow" Teacup whines towards Hobie.

"Can't say no to that" Hobie heads towards the space next to you, lifting up Teacup by her arms so he could sit closer to you. He places Teacup on his lap, she curls around herself immediately, purring loudly.

"It's a bit concerning how much she likes you" you softly say, craning your neck to look at Hobie lovingly petting Teacup. 

Hobie puts his non-petting arm around your shoulders moving you closer to him. "She has good taste, just like her mum" he leans towards your lips, slowly closing the gap. 

"Do you really like them? They're not too much?" You whisper against his lips before they meet.

"How could anyone not like 'em? They're perfect, even Crowley" 

You laugh at his jab, "Didn't peg you as a cat person" 

Hobie rubs your cheek endearingly "haven't I told you I'm a cat guy?" 

Hobie guides your face towards his again, when you suddenly gasp. 

"I forgot! I need to give you something" you drop Crumpet on his shoulder, while Crowley moves towards the sofa's armrest. "Be right back" pecking his lips.

"I've got it!" You emerge from the sides holding something. Sitting back down you give the small patch to Hobie. 

Hobie looks at the menacing aura emanating from the arm rest. He sees Crowley perched elegantly, his emerald eyes staring directly at Hobie. While Crumpet sways her tail across Hobie's chest, still perched on his shoulders.

Hobie stares back at Crowley, teasingly smirking at the cat.

"I think he's planning my murder" Hobie points out. 

"Aww he's a sweetheart, you'll win him eventually" you say while petting the void next to you, Crowley sits unmoving still staring daggers at Hobie. 

"Right, what's this?" Hobie looks at the piece of cloth in his hand. 

"It's a patch! I made it for you, y'know to add to your jacket" you ramble on to hide your sudden shyness. 

The patch has a stitched cartoon version of Crowley holding a knife in his mouth, the bottom of the design reads- 'piss off' 

"You made this?" He feels the stitches with his thumb. 

You bite your lip while nodding "you like it? I saw that you have a cat patch already, so I made you another one, she seemed lonely" 

"It's fuckin' gorgeous, lovey" He grabs your face in excitement, he kisses every inch of your face with a loud smooch in-between. 

Before he could finally kiss your lips, he heard a hiss from behind you. 

"Crowley!" You look behind you. "Don't be mean!" 

"Nope" Hobie grabs you by the back of your legs, He lifts you up with ease. You gasp while instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips. 

"What are you doing?" You laugh at his shenanigans. 

"You're my human shield" he says while he peeks at Crowley over your shoulder. 

"He's harmless" you giggle, as if on cue, Crowley raises his hips with a hiss, readying to pounce. 

"Okay, maybe not" you wrap your arms around Hobie's neck while he jumps towards your ceiling. He sticks to it by his hands and feet, while you use him as your personal hammock. 

"He can't reach us up here, right?" He asks you. 

You peek over his shoulder to see Crowley trying to reach you by jumping, while Teacup meows upward, Crumpet sleeps on the couch unbothered. 

You hide behind Hobie, cuddling his torso, the height giving you vertigo. 

"Don't worry, I've got you" he pats your behind before sticking his hand back on the ceiling. "Let me kiss you better" 

You lean up to look at his face, smirking in victory. "Was this a ruse to get me alone?" 

"Know me so well" he chuckles against your lips. You cup his face to stabilize yourself against his body. 

Kissing him back, you hear Crowley's mewls for you to come down.

A/n: Thank you for reading! Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

Omfg I was looking for this fic for so long 😭

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.

My Masterlist

Inspired by this post

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb. 

"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror. 

You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.

He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt. 

"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.

"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey" 

"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin. 

You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.

"It's genetics, all natural, baby" 

"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.

"No, it's not" 

"Yes, it is" you step forward.

"Nuh uh" 

"Yea uh" 

You stare at each other for a second.

"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you. 

"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers. 

"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you, 

You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?

Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–

Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?" 

"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand. 

"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you" 

"I was actually thinking about your houseboat" 

"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action. 

Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.

"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.

"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.

"Bought it off a bloke"

"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.

"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it" 

"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.

"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.

You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.

Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it" 

"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.

"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.

"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.

"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours" 

"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.

"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.

"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.

Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.

"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.

"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.

"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah" 

"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you" 

"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes. 

"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well" 

"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.

"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way" 

"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.

Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg. 

"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position. 

Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.

You playfully slap his chest.

"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap

In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.

You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.

"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.

He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.

"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.

"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours. 

You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.

"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.

Hobie pulls back breathlessly.

"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.

"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.

"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space. 

"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.

He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe. 

"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.

"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants" 

"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him. 

"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.

Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.

He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you. 

Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.

You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression. 

"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.

You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.

"Really? You're not sea sick?" 

"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.

"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.

"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close. 

"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.

You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his. 

You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.

A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

I'm so happy people still post about squid game 🩷

husband!in-ho ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut.

a/n: i am so obsessed with husband!in-ho. i need him bad. 

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho is extremely possessive and clingy, but much more as your husband. 

• every now and then, he’ll let you watch some games with him. he’ll sit down on his black leather couch and pull you onto his lap, one hand holding a glass of whiskey and the other hand softly placed on your hip. he doesn’t like it when you drink but will occasionally pour you a glass of whiskey, finding it endearing to see you get tipsy so easily. on those days, you get more messy, placing soft kisses to his jawline as he watches the game. “you’re distracting me.” he’ll murmur, but won’t stop you from kissing him. as soon as the game is over, he’ll turn off the tv and kiss you softly, cupping your face and pulling you closer to him. 

• in-ho doesn’t fall asleep easily and when he does, he’s awakened by any noise. when you start to get tired, he’ll close the book he was reading and shut off the light, pulling you into chest. he’ll stroke your hair and place soft kisses to the top of your head until you drift off to sleep. 

• in-ho spoils you a lot. he will buy you just about anything you ask for and even things you don’t ask for, but that’s just his way of showing love. plus, watching you get all dressed up in an outfit and jewellery he knows he bought for you makes him happy. 

• at first, in-ho didn’t like taking you to the island with him on the week of the games, afraid he would be putting you in danger. he’s much more willing to take you now, mainly because he can’t stand to be away from you. he also loves to see you after a long day of work, knowing he can slip into your arms and feel any tension go away. 

• if he goes off to the games to be a fake player, he’ll do his best to keep you from getting too worried. 

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you’ll mumble to him. 

he’ll give you a soft smile before responding, “i’m going to be okay, i promise.” 

he’ll find ways to sneak off during the games to meet you somewhere, each time pulling you into a tight hug and placing a passionate kiss to your lips. he’ll reassure you that he’s okay and wipe away any of your tears.  

nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho loves eye contact during sex. he’ll force you to look at him, admiring your pretty face and flushed cheeks. whenever you take him from behind, he’ll wrap a hand gently yet firmly around your neck, forcing you to look back at him. after a long day’s work when you get on your knees, his hand will reach down and lightly lift your chin up. “so beautiful.” he’ll murmur. 

• he loves cockwarming. often times he’ll do it just to see how needy you get, begging for him to let you move. he’ll sit on the black leather couch in the office, watching the first game, while you straddle him. his hands will grip your hips firmly and anytime you squirm, he’ll tighten his grip. “be a good girl and i’ll give you what you want after i’m done watching this, okay?”

• he loves to fuck you in his frontman attire. on those days, he won’t even remove the mask. even though you’re unable to see his face, he still expects you to maintain eye contact. his voice comes out deeper due to the distortion, as do the grunts and moans. meanwhile, his gloved hands will tangle into your hair, pulling slightly. 

• he prefers to receive his head, but on some nights his kisses will trail down your neck, eventually making their way further down your body. he’ll slip off your panties and strongly hold your thighs down, before giving you a smirk and getting to work. he’s messy yet meticulous with his movements and knows exactly all the right spots for you. when he eats you out, he likes to drag out the process, teasing you and getting you so close to climax only to take it all away. he mainly does this to hear you beg. as you get closer, your hips will buck up and his hands will tighten their grip on your thighs, pressing you back down into the mattress. “hold still,” he’ll murmur into you, the vibrations driving you crazy. 

AHHH MY SWEET LITTLE BABY I SWEAR I IMAGINED THIS SO PERFECTLY

Player 001 goes grocery shopping and buys everything his girlfriend touches?

Oooo I like it!'

The very...expensive Shopping spree

Character: player 001 X fem!reader

Summary: As above

Warnings: None

Young-Il wasn’t sure how this kept happening. He had come to the grocery store with a simple mission: grab the essentials and go. But somehow, the cart kept filling up with things that weren’t on the list.

And it was all your fault.

"Oh! Look at these," you said, stopping to pick up a bag of chocolate-covered almonds. You turned them over in your hands, scanning the label with mild curiosity. "I wonder if they’re any good."

Without hesitation, Young-Il plucked another bag off the shelf and dropped it into the cart.

You frowned. "I was just looking."

"And now you have some to try," he said simply, pushing the cart forward.

The pattern continued in nearly every aisle. You lingered near a bottle of peach-flavored soju? Into the cart. You pointed at a new brand of ramen and mumbled, "I’ve never seen this before"? Into the cart. You absentmindedly touched a plush loaf of milk bread while talking about something entirely different? Into the cart.

By the time you reached the frozen foods section, you caught on. "Wait a second." You narrowed your eyes at the absurd amount of extra snacks. "Are you buying everything I touch?"

Young-Il, who was very obviously shoving a package of tteokbokki into the cart because you had picked it up two minutes ago, froze. "…No."

You crossed your arms, watching him closely. "Then why do we suddenly have three different types of cookies?"

"You touched them."

"Young-Il!"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s not a big deal. If you like something, I want you to have it."

You softened at that, but you weren’t about to let him off that easy. With a mischievous grin, you grabbed the most ridiculous thing you could find—a giant, neon-pink bag of cotton candy-flavored popcorn—and held it up like a challenge.

He stared at it, deadpan. Then, exhaling slowly through his nose, he reached out and added it to the already overflowing cart. "Fine."

You giggled, slipping your arm through his. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you’re expensive," he teased, nudging you lightly as he pushed the cart toward the checkout.

You didn’t argue. After all, if Young-Il wanted to spoil you, who were you to stop him?

I need this man in me.

photos of simon you took:

photos of simon that johnny/kyle send you:

photos simon send you:

(the guys in the photo are johnny and kyle)

This is so fr like I need someone to take care of me 😭

from "i think it'd be nice to date a man who's a little older than me and call him daddy, not too old and i don't want him to actually act like my dad though"

to "i need him to be old enough to be my dad and act like my real father. i need him to be middle aged and take care of me as if i was his very own daughter"

AHHH THIS NEEDS MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION AHH IM TWEAKING OUT THIS MADE ME FEEL SO MUCH ALL AT ONCE I LOVEE THIS SO FCKING MUCH

LADYBUG

pairing: dad's friend!hwang inho x fem!reader

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. AGE GAP (reader is 20, inho is 48) hurt comfort, daddy issues, domestic violence (reader has an abusive father) psychological issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst, taboo kinks, fauxcest kink, DDLG themes, sub!reader, soft!dom inho, freudian slip except it's on purpose, reader literally calls him dad and appa and every variation of that title, badly written smut, pet names, infantilization, subspace, oral fixation, obsession, plot with porn.

DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. DON'T COMPLAIN.

summary: your father's friend has been your only saving grace through your abusive childhood. it's only natural that you fall in love with him.

word count: around 9.5k

A/N: consider this a love letter to the lee byung hun girlies with daddy issues. writing this was very self indulgent. i hope you guys like it. if you don't, consider moving on. no hate comments will be tolerated! there are bigger problems to worry about. we do not kink shame around here!

please ignore any mistakes.

p.s. feedback is a writer's biggest motivation!

MASTERLIST

the gravel digs painfully into the skin of your bare feet as you wait. you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, teeth clattering against each other as you bounce your weight on your feet, breathing sharp. the door opens a few minutes after your incessant knocking, and mr. inho stands at the entrance, frowning. you were sure he was surprised to see you like this— it had been 2 years since you last met.

his soft hair looks messy and he's wearing a comfortable shirt with joggers. he looks so gentle, and his droopy, confused eyes snap wide open when his gaze lands upon your black eye. as if suddenly awake, he gasps your name and immediately grabs you.

"that bastard." he guides you inside, slamming the door behind the two of you. it makes you jump. "i'm going to—"

"don't." you whisper, looking up at him pleadingly. you grab his arm and your lips wobble as he glares down at you. "i don't have anywhere else to go. don't do anything rash. it really was my fault this time."

"nothing you do will justify him beating you." he snaps, settling you on the couch. he mumbles incoherent curses at his friend as he gets the first aid kid, and you fiddle with your fingers, flinching slightly as your tongue catches onto the bleeding split of your lip.

you'd sneaked out despite your father warning you not to. it was your friend's birthday, and you really wanted to be the first to wish her and give her a gift for once. she got you to stay at least till you had some cake, and unfortunately for you, on that same moment your father had decided to come home and immediately seek you out. he'd called your friend in a fit of rage, and as soon as you sneaked back inside, it was too late. to compensate, he'd knocked you into the wall and given you a black eye on top of that.

"i should put handcuffs on that bastard," inho snaps you out of your thoughts, kneeling before you. you wince as he gently applies antiseptic on your lip. "i don't understand why you won't let me. why do you let him do this to you?"

you had your reasons. the more rational ones were that your father was a sick, twisted piece of shit. a waste of space. but you had no one else. no source of income, no other place to stay. you wanted to study enough to be financially independent, and for that you needed him. you don't know any other way to live— he's isolated you from most experiences someone your age should have. you're not sure if you'll be able to get by without his roof over your head.

like always, you switch the subject.

"why are you still friends with him, then?"

mr. inho looks at you then and clenches his jaw. he simply glares for a moment. you're sure you see his eye twitch. he looks offended, and you understand why. you almost regret asking him this question— of course you knew why. you were lucky he was still friends with him. it's one of the reasons you're still alive and kicking.

"i'm not his friend. we just worked together," he grumbles lowly, "and even then i'm still around because of you. is that what you wanted to hear?"

you chuckle slightly, masking your flustered haze with a smirk.

"old man." you whisper with an endearing edge to your voice. he isn't amused. he stands up and gives you an ice pack for your eye. you slump into his couch and groan.

"when did you return from college?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"last week," you sigh, throwing your head back. the cold ice feels comforting against your heated skin. he frowns slightly and opens his mouth to speak— but you beat him to it.

"i was avoiding you." you answer his question. inho had been to your place a few times since you came, but you made no move to approach him. out of embarrassment and well, because you were scared to see him. it's normal with people you have crushes on.

he seems to understand because he doesn't mention it further.

"are you planning to stay?" he asks gently, putting his hands in his pockets. "i can get the guest room ready. it's been a while since you had a sleepover."

your heart flutters. mr. inho is... you don't have a proper way to describe it.

he's a lot of your firsts. he's everything.

mr. inho was there when you were 9 years old and struggling with math homework. mr. inho was there when your father would get too frustrated to teach you, and he'd put a hand on his shoulder and tell him to take a break. and then he'd place you on his lap, wipe your tears and help you with the gentleness you wish your father possessed.

mr. inho was there when you turned 12 and got your period for the first time. mom had passed away when you could barely walk, so you had no womanly guidance in your stages of growing up. shameful and scared and suffering from heavy fever, you had told your father about it, and instead of comforting you, he'd simply freaked and called you a slut and made all sorts of implications. not knowing any better, you'd locked yourself in the bathroom and immediately called mr. inho's number with shaky hands. and when the door opened and mr. inho walked in with warm towels and a bag full of necessities, you had broken down in his arms and told him everything.

that was the first time you saw mr. inho punch your father. it was also the first time you had seen someone be angry over you, not at you.

to protect you.

that's when you had your first sleepover at mr. inho's place, if you can call it that. your father had shamefully rushed off to the pub after getting an earful from the older man, and you were left alone in the house. mr. inho had brought you to his place, readied the guest room and stayed by your side till you fell asleep. the next day, he'd made you breakfast, and your father had apologized, in his own way.

when you went back home, a bunny plushie was waiting for you in bed. your father said he got it for you, but you could tell it actually came from mr. inho. your father never got you gifts. never. he didn't even know you liked power rangers, or max and ruby, or that dory was your favourite fish from finding nemo.

mr. inho had gotten you power rangers trump cards for your birthday. a malibu barbie doll the next. when you grew into your boyband phase, he got you a pencil box with your favourite idol too. most of the plushies in your rooms were gifts from him— mostly given in secret when mr. inho dropped your drunk father off at your place after a long day. you'd always stay up just for a glimpse of him— not willing to listen when he told you to just go to sleep. sometimes he'd hand you a package, give you a pat on the head and a wink. and then he'd leave, just like that.

you're not sure how mr. inho and your father became friends in the first place, if you can call it that. acquaintances is a better word, but they've known each other too long for that. they worked in the same police department and had partnered up multiple times until mr. inho retired.

most officers said they made a good duo in the professional sense— but their personalities seemed far from compatible.

your father was stubborn and temperamental. he was judgemental, toxic and a brute with a superiority complex. a true narcissist at heart. mr. inho was gentle and kind. he was compassionate and understanding. he was headstrong and stood for what he believed in. he was everything you wished your father was.

you will never understand how someone like him could befriend a man like mr. inho.

you were 13 when you gave mr. inho your first gift. you made him a fucking father's day card— you used to make those for your father when you were younger, and always saw them in the trash can the next day. it hurt you so much that you'd simply stopped.

the incident with your period was a major turning point in your relationship with mr. inho. it changed the way you saw him and in a way, reawakened your creativity. so you brought out your best colors, made him a stupid little card, and gave it to him in secret. hidden amidst the pages of a book your father had borrowed from him with no intention to actually read it. you were too scared and shy to gift it to him directly— you'd simply left the card in there and hoped for the best.

the next time your father dropped you at mr. inho's because he was working late again, you found the card pinned to the fridge. you don't remember being that happy in a long time.

that was the first time mr. inho had given you a forehead kiss. it was innocent and so... normal. like it was part of his routine. he didn't know that he had permanently solidified his place in your heart for years to come.

you were 14 when you first realized you had a crush on mr. inho. it was obvious enough, you just never thought there was actually a term for the butterflies you felt whenever he'd show up at your place to discuss work with your father. all you knew was you looked at him with the kind of admiration a girl could only carry for a loving father, except your feelings had grown a little more shameless over time, your thoughts sometimes vulgar. you'd get increasingly excited at the prospect of seeing him, to the point you saved up some money in secret and bought a lipgloss just so you'd put it on whenever he visited. you'd pout and lock yourself in your room when he wouldn't acknowledge it with anything but a smile and a pinch on the cheek. it's a little stupid to think of— a little girl with a crush trying so hard to impress a grown, married man.

you were 16 when you confessed, and he'd laughed— not mockingly. it was almost paternal. the universal reaction to moments where little girls with no social awareness say something silly like they want to marry their dad when they grow up. he made you feel that small again— he'd patted you on the head and told you that you're too young for him, and made a stupid joke about not planning to go to jail anytime soon. he told you that he loved you, but that this was wrong because he's a married man, and that you should be with someone your age. that this is a stupid crush that would fade with time. that you simply feel this way because you haven't met enough boys.

that had stung, but you forced yourself to get over it.

time passed but the crush did not fade by a single percent.

you tried to get yourself a boyfriend— and ended up comparing any potential date to mr. inho. none of them could match the intensity he carried, the way he cared for you like a father. the strength and authority he possessed. you remember one time when your father was out on a case and mr. inho had decided to babysit you— he'd taken you out for ice cream. a group of rowdy boys were littering the place and laughing among themselves. one of them tripped and crashed into you and you dropped your ice cream. you were too scared to ask for another. mr. inho had paused and shot them a deadpan glare— and the boys stared back before slowly advancing, picking up their litter and throwing it in the bin. they'd bowed in respect, apologized to you and rushed away before he could say anything further. that moment had stuck with you for years— how he could communicate with just his eyes, and people listened.

mr. inho bought you another ice cream with a smile after— with two scoops this time. strawberry and chocolate.

you looked for emotional maturity and a sense of responsibility in high school boys. it was bound to be a failure.

you were 18 when you tried to kiss mr. inho for the first time. it was stupid— it was your last act of rebellion before you went to college. you felt daring because his wife had passed not too long ago. he'd disappeared for a while after that, and his absence only made your longing for him grow. the insults and violence your father aimed at you became background noise eventually, because your mind was set on the one man who meant something to you.

in that time, you missed him so dearly, you were ready to let go of your dignity for one chance with the only man who had ever tried to care for you. you hated yourself for it still— for trying to take advantage of his kindness. he had come back a changed man— visibly stressed with dark circles etched permanently under his eyes. like he'd just been to hell and back. he looked like someone who could use a little something to take his frustrations out on— and you would have let him use you as his punching bag if he wanted. if he wanted a shoulder to cry on, you'd be there. if he wanted a fleshlight, you'd be there then too. that's how much you desired him. you thought you could make him feel better this way.

it was insensitive and utterly insane of you to do something so foolish. you were ready to be with him in any way, even if it meant as a rebound. but he'd stopped your attempt with a firm hand on your shoulder, looked at you with utmost seriousness, and told you to pull yourself together.

'don't do this,' he'd warned. and as if to stomp on your heart further, he reminded you that he loved his dead wife, and you were just a fucking kid.

you were a mess. you never tried initiating anything with him after that. you left off to college, and whenever you did come back, you made sure to avoid him at all costs, no matter how much it hurt you. you'd pretend you didn't see him text you about how college was going, or if you needed any help. you refused to answer his texts asking you to meet atleast once before you left. you were ashamed of your behaviour and too scared to face him. even when you could hear him ask your father about you whenever you visited. your father would make an offhanded remark about you doing god knows what and change the subject.

mr. inho had been more of a dad to you than your own father. he was there to tend to your wounds, to threaten to beat the shit out of your father and put him in jail— but you never allowed him to actually do it. your father was all you had for now, and you're scared to live in a world without a father. you know how harsh society can be to girls like that.

a truth you weren't ready to accept was that a big part of your refusal to let your father go was rooted in your desire to keep mr. inho. your father was your only link to him. if your father went away, so would your need to be protected by him. then mr. inho wouldn't come to your rescue. you wouldn't need safety or a shoulder to cry on. what if mr. inho decided he'd done his work, and moved on with his life? you can't have that. you're not ready.

you couldn't lose him too.

"i can't stay," you whispered finally, breaking eye contact. he nodded in understanding, walking up to you.

"is he asleep?"

you nodded, mindlessly biting your lower lip and flinching at the sting.

he tsked at your action and you stood up to leave. as you walked past him, he grabbed your hand. you looked at him then, and he shook his head.

"don't go to him," he whispered, pulling you closer. you wanted to run, to cower in on yourself. you were sure he didn't mean to appear so lovely. but he did. mr. inho was always lovely to you. tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you looked at him. why does he keep doing this to you? the last memory of you two is painful. but you're still here.

"just say the word and i'll get rid of him." he adds quietly, his palm squeezing your arm comfortingly. you simply stare at him— gaze full of stars like always. like he was your hero. his eyes soften and he sighs, leaning forward to pinch your cheek. you look away out of shame. to prompt you to respond, he messily ruffles your hair. the action almost makes you sob— he used to do that a lot when you were younger. his hand still feels so big compared to you. you compose yourself soon enough, refusing to fall into your adolescent folly.

"don't be ridiculous." you chuckle dryly, snatching your wrist from his hold. you grab the part of your arm that he had held and squeeze— hoping it would magically capture the essence of his grip and lock it away in your senses forever. he sighs tiredly and straightens up, his face hardening.

"i'm sorry." you whisper softly, immediately melting under his disappointed gaze. you regret your harsh behaviour. you show up bleeding at his doorstep at 3 in the morning and he lets you in— and this is how you treat him?

"you know it's not that easy." you add, voice small.

he grunts, rubbing a tired hand down his face.

"i'm sorry i bothered you," you can't help yourself, shifting to look at him more clearly. "i didn't have—"

"—anywhere else to go?" he finishes your sentence flatly with a clench of his jaw. he sounds exhausted, and it makes you want to cry. he scoffs slightly, "stop saying that. my door is always open for you. it always has been. since you were a kid. you know that."

you feel smaller and smaller with every sentence, and you nod sheepishly in agreement. it's true— he has always been there for you in a way no other man ever has. but still you can't help but fear that one day he'll grow tired of this cycle, of you, and straight up leave. he'll get bored of this dynamic and of looking after you and abandon you. you don't want to lose him. the difference between him and your father is that the latter is connected to you by blood— you can use your legal rights if he decides to abandon you. whereas you can't even imagine a world where mr. inho doesn't want to be around you. you don't want to imagine it. it's locked away in the treasure chest of your worst fears. so you simply reject any possibility of that opportunity to arise. would mr. inho still be around if your father didn't hurt you? would he still be around if he didn't feel sorry for you, if you didn't need him to protect you?

you'd rather things stay this way than consider the other scenario.

you avoided any encounter with him for two years, ignored his texts and calls, and now you appear at his door unannounced with a black eye and he still took you in. would he do the same if you had come bearing gifts instead? the idea replays in your head like a broken record.

would he?

you're an insane fucking mess.

he insists on driving you home. you can see the emotions in his gaze— don't leave. make the right choice. but you ignore it like you have for the past few years. you leave despite his pleas, and go right to sleep once you get into bed.

you can hear yelling. the voices are rushed, panicked almost. the floor creaks with each step, and you clutch your plushie close as you press your ear against the door. there's arguing, clattering. the sound of something breaking. more panicked noises. you can hear a siren in the background. your heart rate begins to rise, and when you hear another scream, you snatch the door open.

mr. inho stands over your father's corpse, panting. his knuckles are split and bleeding— splatters of crimson splattered across his face and body. your father's face is quite literally unrecognisable. you look at the broken plates by mr. inho's feet, and the glass shard in his hand. another shard jammed right in your father's chest. and then you scream.

your own scream wakes you up. sweat breaks out across your body and you take heavy breaths— looking around your room. your head hurts. your heart squeezes painfully inside your chest, and it prompts you to get out of bed to grab a glass of water.

you check the time. it's almost noon. shit.

your father is at the kitchen table reading the newspaper when you walk in. he does a double take— mouth curling with distaste as he spots the sight of your face.

you did that, you asshole.

you two don't say a word to each other. he folds the newspaper and places it on the table before breaking the news.

"i'm leaving the city for a case soon."

you pause, turning to look at him.

"i'll get someone to keep an eye on you so you don't whore yourself out to the whole neighborhood like you did last night," he adds casually, like he's talking about the weather. you want to lunge at him, grab the nearest object and toss it at his head. you want to scream 'im a virgin! im a virgin! the only thing that has ever fucked me over is the fact that i'm your daughter!' till the whole neighborhood hears.

"don't disappoint me when i come back."

you ignore his remarks, "when will you be back."

he laughs, "i'll drop in as a surprise." his sly eyes narrow at you playfully but you know better. "catch you in the act if you do something to embarrass me."

he sighs dreamily, tossing his head back, "this is gonna be a big one. i'll definitely get a promotion this time. finally something with real money."

you clench your jaw and focus on making breakfast, trying to erase the flashes of your dream from your brain. the doorbell rings and your father greets mr. inho— who doesn't return his enthusiasm. your father's head is too far up his own ass to think someone might not actually like him so much— he believes anyone who talks to him once becomes his fan. and so he does everything he can to maintain that relationship with them. you suppose it's how he's managed to keep mr. inho around despite it being clear that mr. inho doesn't like him that much anymore. maybe your father only keeps him around so he can flex his promotions as time passes. maybe he keeps him around so he has someone to babysit you. either way, you're just glad he's here.

your father doesn't know how close you and mr. inho are. he knows that the relationship between you is purely... platonic and familial, in a sense.

platonic. you almost chuckle. of course it's platonic. mr. inho rejected the idea of anything other than that.

you try not to be bitter about it.

your father believes you two only see each other during these meetings of theirs, which were more frequent when you were a kid. you're thankful because you're sure if he found out you and mr. inho got along, he would remove him from your life too like he did with all your friends.

mr. inho brought soju. you chop the veggies for your omelette and they chat in private for a while before your father finally leaves— and mr. inho locks the door and joins you in the kitchen. that's when the realization sets in. you almost laugh.

"did he pick you to keep an eye on me while he's gone?"

mr. inho smiles— a twinkle in his eyes as he sits at the table. it's not often that he smiles like that, but whenever he does, it punches the breath out of you.

"just like old times," he remarks with a pleased smirk. "better behave yourself while i'm here, kid."

his words are playful— clearly teasing. but they have your breath hitching. for some reason, you like it when he says them, you wouldn't mind him ordering you around like that. you swallow hard and the sudden shift in your brain chemistry has you fumbling— and you accidentally cut your hand with the sharp knife.

"fuck!" you yelp, dropping the knife. he is immediately at your side, grabbing your hand and guiding it under tap water.

"shit—" he hisses, frowning, "why do you keep hurting yourself? be careful."

you pout slightly, your heart pounding against your chest. he raises your hand to his mouth and mindlessly sucks the blood off. you freeze, eyes widening— breath catching in your throat.

"saliva prevents blood clotting," he explains gently. when he's done, he puts a hand on your waist and turns you to the table. "sit. let me make you breakfast."

"i can do it—" you protest, but he gives you another one of his warning glares and that shuts you up.

you hum and watch him in his element. he's folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, confidently grating some cheese on your omelette. you sigh dreamily to yourself, forcing your gaze to stay only at his concentrated face and not at the veins mapped across his strong arms.

when he's done, he places the plate on the table. expertly, he takes a knife and a fork and cuts a piece, and holds it up to you. when you go to grab the fork from him, he tsks and pulls it away.

"let me," he says softly, "i'm finally seeing your face after two years. why don't you let me take care of you, hm?"

you freeze, looking at him dumbly. he takes the opportunity to feed you, and you chew softly. he snorts, takes a bite himself.

why is he talking like this to you? does he not know you're insane about him?

"you can't just say things like that to me." you mumble between bites, voice low.

he ignores your comment, feeding you another piece.

"got yourself a boyfriend back in college?" he asks, his mouth curled into a smirk that he makes no effort to hide. "is that why you were ignoring your old man?"

your heart pangs and you swallow comically slow. you ignore his second remark too. he's talking so casually— you know it means nothing. you can't help but feel like it's cruel of him to act this way towards you, like he doesn't know how much you long for him.

"tried," you shrug, "they never stay. they can tell i have too many issues."

he laughs heartily and you smile. you like making him happy. it's a stark contrast against the last memory you have of him.

"you're not that hard to handle," he adds with a wink, patting your head. if he notices you leaning into his touch like a cat, he doesn't mention it. when he gets you a mug of juice, you drink it obediently, and he tends to the dishes.

"the weather's good today," he remarks casually, "you wanna go out for a walk? i'll buy you some ice cream. just like old times."

that puts the brightest smile on your face. you nod enthusiastically and rush to your bedroom to get dressed— and you try to ignore the flutter of your heart when his laugh follows along with you.

hwang inho is an insane man.

you'd dressed up pretty— your father's absence allows you to indulge in your more... girly clothes. ever since you hit puberty, he never let you wear dresses— called you a slut whenever you tried. as if to protect yourself, you'd grown used to dressing in a more tomboy-ish manner around him.

for this occasion, you put on your cutest dress and your favourite lipgloss, only to be met with mr. inho dressed up in a fucking black shirt with a suede jacket thrown over his shoulder. he looked so chic, it almost pissed you off.

he should not be allowed near black shirts. you don't want anyone else to see him this way.

you don't notice him blinking in a daze when you step down the stairs, and you don't notice the bobbing of his adam's apple when you bend down to put on your shoes.

he doesn't let you. almost immediately, he's gently placing a large palm at your thigh and kneeling before you. your breath hitches again and he gives you a look that is hard to decipher before guiding your foot into your polished mary janes.

"you look different." he mentions quietly, lowering his gaze to your feet.

his thumb tenderly brushes across your ankle, as if examining the softness of your skin. you release a shaky breath as he secures the straps of your shoes.

"a good different?" you ask shyly. you don't want him to think of you as too childish, too immature. you don't want to look like a kid playing dress up. you want to look like a woman to him. a beautiful woman who knows how to dress and look pretty.

he stands up and settles you with an unreadable look. he blinks a few times before composing himself and nodding. if you didn't know better, you'd think he looked flustered.

"a good different."

the walk outside is silent. perhaps it's because things just suddenly felt so intimate between the two of you. or perhaps it's because he's looking for something to say. you aren't, atleast. you're happy walking alongside him in comfortable silence, your hands brushing against each other's but never really touching. you wish he'd grab it and never let it go.

"still prefer strawberry ice cream?" his teasing voice breaks you out of your stupor. you smile.

"of course i do," you huff, looking up at him. you decide to tease him back. "you're still lactose intolerant?"

"should i be honest?" he sighs, looking straight ahead. he's wearing sunglasses, so his eyes are hard to read. "i tried some strawberry ice cream sometime back. some expensive brand. tossed it away after a bite because it tasted like nothing, so i'll never understand why you like it."

his voice lowers— grows almost quiet. a confession.

"i was missing you."

your steps falter and you stare at him. he walks ahead, before turning to face you. you grit your teeth, hold back all the words that are threatening to spill from your tongue.

you missed me? you ate strawberry ice cream because you missed me? you thought of me? i missed you too. i'm sorry for how reckless i've been. i'm sorry for ignoring you. i love you, i love you. please make me yours.

i'm so pathetic.

he cocks his head to the side and holds out his hand. you look at it, then at him, then you reach forward and grab hold of his finger. he chuckles and you hold back a smile as you swing your hands together and walk over to the ice cream stand. he pays and lets you pick.

he receives a phone call, and to your dismay, your hands separate. he holds up a finger telling you to wait before walking a few steps away so he can have his privacy. you resist the urge to pout and go through the menu. the girl behind the counter looks at mr. inho like most girls do— with barely disguised lust.

"holy shit, your dad's hot." she remarks in awe, voice hushed as she holds out an ice cream cone. "is he single?"

your heart flutters at her assumption— you don't blame her. it wasn't the first time he was mistaken as your dad. you've heard a lot of those comments whenever you'd go on walks with him when you were younger. but now, it also fills you with an emotion akin to jealousy. you glance over your shoulder and watch him talk seriously on the phone. you look back at the girl and grab the cone, and give her a sugary sweet smile.

"no," you answer sweetly, "he's dating me."

you hold back the urge to laugh at her bewildered face as you happily skip to him. he looks at the two of you curiously and you grin at him as you grab his finger again.

"what was that about?" he asks, pocketing his phone and you shrug, cheekily licking the ice cream.

"nothing," you hum, walking with a skip in your step. "i missed you too."

he throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close, and you resist the urge to moan when you inhale the smell of his cologne— he always smells otherworldly. ridiculously rich for some reason. rich and comforting and like home.

this time, you convince him to sleep over. even though he was strictly against staying in your room for too long out of respect, you managed to draw him up. he looks around and takes a seat at the bed. your room is still pink— girly in it's essence. you had the craziest pink phase when you were a kid and it bled into everything you owned, from bedsheets and clothes to your walls. mr. inho had also been a major enabler in this situation— he'd gotten you a lot of pink trinkets and toys. your father never allowed you to modify your room after the first time.

"it's like a unicorn threw up in here," he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around. you roll your eyes fondly, adjusting the sheets. his eyes fall upon your bunny plushie— and you watch his face fall.

"i know it was you who got this." you decide to say, looking away. "you didn't have to do that for him."

"i did it for you," he corrects you, picking it up. it's still in good condition, although its ears have become more droopy, and you've drawn hearts on its plain button eyes. "it was a bad night for you. no kid should have to go through that."

your face softens, eyes getting glassy. cautiously, you take a seat beside him. you fidget with the hem of your dress, not really knowing how to continue conversation with him. you feel a little self conscious now that you're alone with him in your room— after years. the close proximity makes you want to touch him— to crawl into his lap and just stay there. with your saviour who always knows how to make you feel better. your sweet, considerate old man. you want to know what it feels like to be touched by him, to be held by him, to be—

"i like your dress."

the words almost give you a whilpash. your head snaps up and you hold back the enthusiasm in your voice. "really?"

"really," he smiles kindly. your dress rides up as you sit straighter and his eyes fall upon the silver of your skin, and naturally his hand reaches out and adjusts the fabric so it covers your knees. your breath hitches, and his voice lowers into a soft mumble.

"you're such a pretty girl."

you swallow hard— it's like someone is holding your head underwater. you can't fathom how much you needed to hear this— and especially coming from him, you think you're going to die.

i would let you do anything to me.

"really?"

"really." he whispers. something in his gaze shifts, and he looks away. he clears his throat.

"i wanted to come see you in college," he admits, placing the plushie back on the bed. "but you kept ignoring my texts. i wasn't sure if you wanted to see me. you avoided me like the plague whenever you came back, even though i don't blame you."

you look away in shame, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, nervously biting your lower lip. it doesn't hurt anymore. "i felt ashamed after the way i acted when.. you know."

"i understand," he hums, blinking at you. you're glad he doesn't say it directly, you're not ready to confront him like that right now.

"thank you for everything you've ever done for me," you add, shifting on your feet. "and i'm sorry for avoiding you."

a small smile appears on his face.

"look at you," he quips with a chuckle, "you've gotten so mature."

you huff, grabbing the plushie and hitting him with it. he plays along, pretending to be dramatically hurt with every hit. it goes well until you're leaning forward for easier access, and his attempt to snatch the plushie from your hold makes you trip. you crash right into him and he falls backwards onto the mattress, taking you down with him. your face smushes against him, and the way your heartbeat skyrockets would've been comical if you didn't feel him stiffen under you.

you take this opportunity as a golden ticket— burying your head further into his chest. your arms clutch the fabric of his shirt, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as your body relaxes in his hold. he calls your name softly.

"what are you doing?" he asks, voice strained.

"sorry," you whisper, nuzzling your head further into him. you're willing to throw your dignity out the window for just a moment in his arms— you don't care anymore. you're not past begging.

"please— please, mr. inho, just— let me hug you for a minute, please."

you feel his breath hitch and you sniffle. you force yourself back to reality. you don't want to actually make him uncomfortable. already contemplating killing yourself, you begin to pull yourself away, when his arms suddenly wrap around you.

"mph!" you huff, feeling your body being pulled forward. a big hand comes up to cradle your head against his chest, and another curls around your waist.

"so dramatic," he whispers, his hold tightening. "ill hold you."

"oh my god." you whisper, melting in his arms like putty. you quite literally purr as your body goes limp, and you sigh contentedly, a small smile appearing on your face. like he's your lifeline, you hold onto him tightly.

"my little lady," he whispers. his voice makes your stomach feel warm— it's so velvety and soft. "what's up with you, hm?"

"nothing," you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. you breathe in the comforting smell of him, squeeze your eyes shut as you commit the feeling of being held by him to your memory. "feel so safe.."

he hums, his fingers gently running through your hair. mr. inho is not that tall a man but he still makes you feel so small— so small and so safe, just by his mere presence.

"nobody ever made me feel like this," you admit, your voice cracking. you can't help the emotion seeping into your voice— you're in his arms, and he's petting your hair like you're his child, how are you supposed to breathe? "ive always felt so scared with him but— but with you—"

your voice breaks off as you sniffle again, and you bite down on your tongue as you remember your father. you don't want to think of him right now— you don't want to ruin this moment by crying.

"that bastard doesn't know how lucky he is to have a daughter like you," inho grunts, pressing his cheek against your head. he pulls you impossibly close, cradles you like a fucking baby. "he doesn't deserve to be your father."

the words have you freezing— your body tenses and your breath hitches. nobody has ever said these words to you— you've felt worthless all your life. like a burden, a mistake. like a piece of shit on the shoe that is your father.

inho's hand stills in your hair, and his head tilts towards you so your eyes meet. your lips wobble as you stare at him, and his eyebrows furrow with focus. his thumb brushes against your cheekbone.

"sometimes, i wish i was your father instead," he admits, his voice hushed— like a secret. his gaze runs across your face; almost distant, full of an emotion you can't pinpoint. if you didn't know better, you'd think it was longing. it makes your heart race. "i would never let anything happen to you. you'd be my sweet little girl forever."

the moment those words leave his mouth, you feel like you've been electrocuted. it's like any semblance of rationality has left you— your breath punched out of your lungs and your heart feeling like it's being squeezed. you feel a sharp pain in your chest. the feeling is indescribable. your brain feels like it's shut down. there's nothing there— no thoughts. just pink goop and memories of mr. inho sliding through your head like a powerpoint presentation.

you're not thinking with your mind, that much is clear. he's said the words you've been feeling forever, but never truly had the guts to admit out loud to avoid making things weird. it's like you're being seen for the first time. and with that sentiment, you're leaning forward to press your lips onto his.

he grabs your hair and yanks your head back, separating your mouths with a wet smack. your eyes are dazed as you look at him, and he takes a sharp breath as he glares back at you— nostrils flared, gaze serious. you don't know he's holding onto his last ounce of self control.

"don't do something you can't take back." he warns, voice hoarse.

this is the third time he's rejecting you— it's making you want to kill yourself. your lips wobble pathetically, eyes immediately getting teary as you lean into him.

"please—" your voice cracks, lips parting as you chase his mouth. he restrains you with a firm hold on your hair, mouth twitching. it doesn't hurt, just stings a little. it only makes you long for him more. the visible distress, the conflict on his handsome face only makes you want to cry. you recall his words again, and like a baby, your brain turns into static. all you can think of is how badly you wish he was your father instead. you're not ashamed to beg. you'd do anything, absolutely anything to be his. no matter what way. you just want to be his. perhaps, that's why the words just slip out of your mouth.

"please, dad—"

the moment he hears it, his expression falls. you don't give yourself the liberty to feel shame. all you feel is desperation, sadness. because it's over— you've embarrassed yourself and he's going to think you're fucking weird and you're going to lose him and—

your head is being pulled forward and he's crashing your mouths together. you gasp, eyes widening with surprise, and suddenly he's flipping the two of you over. your back crashes against the soft mattress and he climbs over you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you moan, your back arching under him. he groans, tilting his head for easier access. your tongues clash together and he kisses you like a man starved. it's utterly lewd and you're gone.

he pulls back with a wet smack, strings of saliva dropping down your chin.

"fuck—" he gasps, voice raspy, "say that again— call me that again."

your heart flutters. you're still out of it, unable to process what's happening.

"m-mr. inho—?"

"no!" he snaps- squeezing your cheeks together and making your lips pucker up. you mewl.

"call me the other thing—" he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his jaw, as if fighting a war within himself. he's conflicted. "fuck— the other one. call me that again."

you moan as his hand slides down to your neck, and you're immediately slipping. you can feel your brain get fuzzy, and everything feels like it's a blur. years of desire, yearning, and longing for him pours out of you like a dam, it seeps into the title you've subconsciously given him ever since you were a kid.

"dad." you whisper again, and he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. the way he's crumbling before you makes you feel more confident, and soon enough, the words blabber out of your mouth almost boldly. "dad— dad, dad, dad, papa, appa —"

the rushed string of words has him chuckling softly— his eyes crinkling with mirth. endeared, he's leaning down and immediately kissing you again. you moan unabashedly into his mouth, and his hands reach down to your dress and slide the fabric up, up, up. his hands splay across the soft skin of your thighs and he relishes in the way you fall apart under his touch. he breaks the kisses momentarily only to mumble sweet little words against your skin.

"my sweetheart—" he whispers, his hands cupping your cheeks, and you slip further into your little headspace. he presses a kiss to your forehead, and you choke on a sob.

"my little baby." he presses another kiss to your cheek. you're further gone. you can't see anything but him anymore. his words drop you further into the safer side of your mind, where there's no one but him— him holding you, loving you. keeping you safe and sheltered. "my angel."

"dada—" you whimper, unable to hold back the desperation in your voice. you sound timid, soft. everything hurts— you love him, you love this man so unbelievably much that it's starting to make your heart ache. he grabs your legs, makes them wrap around his waist. settles his bulge upon your clothed crotch and gently grinds. it makes you moan. "o-oh my god—"

"my little girl," mr. inho coos, pressing soft kisses all over your face. you release a shaky breath, your hips recklessly chasing his own. the action makes him falter, his voice growing shaky. "i got you, i got you, my baby."

"appa," you sniffle, tears running down your face. this one visibly makes him nauseous in the best way possible— it scratches the itch in his brain. you can tell by the shift in his jaw, the slight gasp that leaves his lips. he didn't react this way to other other ones— he likes being called that the most, and it works as fuel for your desires. he licks your tears away, and you hiccup, unable to hold back the violent rush of emotions you feel. "i love you— i love you, why couldn't you have been my dad instead!?"

the last line comes out of you like a wail, and unbeknownst to you, it breaks his heart. he presses his forehead against yours, holding onto your face with utmost tenderness as you exchange breaths. his hips glide against yours tantalizingly slow, and you've never been this horny in your entire life.

"i wish it was you instead," you blabber on, voice cracking. "i wish it was just you, not him! i wish it was just you! i hate him, i need him gone! i love you! i wish it was just you—"

"shh—" he coos, silencing you with another kiss. his hips gain momentum, and he grunts shamelessly as he grinds against you. your eyes flutter as you look at him dazedly— face flushed, lips swollen. your eyes are bloodshot. he gives you a comforting smile.

"i got you," he whispers, pressing another peck upon your nose. you whimper, leaning into his touch. his voice is just as full of desperation. "appa's got you. you're my little girl. my daughter. not his. only mine. got that?"

that does it for you— it's like you just got the only validation you ever needed in life.

"yes- yes, yes, yes, yes, please, i need you—" you hiccup, and he pulls back, his thumb rubbing your clit through your panties. you grind up into his hand, your arms reaching up to pull him closer, "appa—"

"shh, be my good little girl and come like this," he whispers, pressing a hand down on your stomach. you squirm violently under him, the added pressure and his words making the band in your stomach want to snap in the most delicious way possible.

"oh my god—" you whine, throwing your head back, "please, appa, i need your cock—"

"no," he laughs, and his hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip lewdly. "not now."

"appa, please!" you sob, your hips writhing. he slips his hand into your panties and furiously rubs your clit. as a way to silence you, he slips his thumb into your mouth and your lips wrap eagerly around it. you start sucking it in earnest and he falls forward onto you.

"fuck," he groans, pressing his forehead against yours again. his thumb presses down on your tongue, gently pushing in and out. his other hand teases your entrance, harshly slips one finger inside and it makes you jump. he tsks. "uh uh- stay still— that's it bubba, suck my thumb... juuust like that, fuck, that's my good fuckin' girl—"

the praise makes you heady in the best way possible, and the moment his thumb circles your clit again, you're coming almost violently. you almost bite down on his thumb and he grins— pulling his hand out and kissing you again as he thrusts his finger in and out of your cunt, overstimulating you.

"t-too much—" you whimper into his mouth, and he chuckles breathlessly, pecking your lips over and over again till they hurt.

"yeah?" he coos teasingly, though he slows down his movements, allowing you to come down from your high. "thought you could take it? little baby's not so tough anymore, huh?"

you whine again, face flushed. a dazed smile appears on your face as your chest heaves. your panties are a mess, and he brings his hand out, licks his fingers clean. you watch him with hooded eyes, blinking slowly. he smiles, spits on his fingers before bringing them to your face. eagerly, you grab his palm and slip them into your mouth, sucking obediently.

"you're so messy," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. his fingers gently thrust in and out of your mouth and you roll your tongue around the digits, tasting the slight remnants of your slick on his salty skin. you've never felt more fulfilled in your life.

"appa," you mumble again, voice muffled through his fingers. he smiles fondly and pulls them out, making you whine. he shushes you and as your hand reaches his pants, he grabs it.

"that's enough for now," he whispers. "rest. i'll be fine. today's just about you."

you protest. "but—"

"won't you listen to your appa?" he adds playfully, and you blush— looking away. if you could function properly, you'd tell him to shut up.

you can barely think; you still feel like you're floating, and he can tell by the slight dreamy look in your eyes.

"let me bring you some water." he whispers, pulling away. you immediately grab his hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes— begging him not to leave you. he chuckles, gently pries your hand away and presses a kiss to your knuckles. it makes you blush. he leans down, hands you your bunny plushie and you hold it to your chest.

"i'll be back in a minute, i promise."

reluctantly, you pull away, swaying a little as you watch him leave. as promised, he walks back in after a minute with a glass of water and his phone. he holds the glass to your lips and helps you drink, and it makes your cheeks heat up. you like him taking care of you. you like how happy he looks while doing it too. he urges you to finish the whole glass and settles it on the bedside table. you tug at his shirt and he snorts before redirecting his attention to you.

he lays down on the bed properly and pulls you towards him, cradling your head against his chest. you throw your leg around his hip and he holds you close, your plushie sandwiched between your bodies. it feels nice.

"you okay?" he whispers, and you nod, burying your head in his chest. you want to say a lot of things— you want to tell him how much you love him, how much you appreciate him. how he has quite literally changed your life. you want to tell him he is the best thing to ever happen to you, and that you might die if he ever leaves you. you want to tell him that he's a great kisser, that you want him to teach you everything. that he smells amazing and that you've never felt as safe as you do with his strong arms wrapped around you.

"thank you," you whisper, voice small. you feel shy again, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. you're exhausted, that much is obvious. this experience has clearly overwhelmed you, and he watches you for a bit, his thumb gently caressing your damp cheek, wiping the now drying tear tracks on your skin.

"thank you, what?" he asks, a knowing smirk on his face. he's cruel. you blush, hide your face with a groan before answering him shyly.

"thank you, appa."

"that's my girl." he adds proudly and you beam, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"i love you too," he whispers finally, and your eyes snap open. you tilt your head up to look at him, your heartbeat rising. he smiles softly— an unreadable look in his eyes. you resist the urge to cry again.

"i love you," you tell him again, your emotions so evident on your face. you're an open book to him. he leans down, presses kisses against your neck, making you giggle. you've never been this happy in your life.

you bury your face in his chest again and hold onto him tightly. he rests his chin on your head, and you whisper a confession against him. now that mr. inho is yours, now that you feel reassured that he might not actually leave you, you can finally admit it out loud.

"i hope he doesn't come back."

he tenses slightly, before relaxing. you don't care about his opinion on your admission— you're just glad to let it out. his hand pats your back gently, urging you to sleep. eventually, you do.

you snore in your sleep. it makes inho smile. you're still the same as you were when you were a kid. when he's sure you're fully out, he checks his phone. he opens his encrypted mail, watches with amusement the attachment from this morning— a low quality video of your father being slapped as he loses in ddakji. the second attachment is of your father's details and his player number. he holds back a smirk.

your father is predictable. he knew the son of a bitch would take the opportunity to make money as soon as he's presented with it. he's not surprised. from what he knows of him in the past decade— he knows he wouldn't make it past the first game. if he does, he knows enough to design something that will make sure he doesn't make it past another.

after losing his wife and child, inho lost a part of himself. but he feels a little complete now. in a way, he has found both in you— and he does love you, adore you with everything he has. he doesn't intend to let anything happen to you ever again. now that you've subconsciously given him the permission, he can do whatever the hell he wants to the piece of trash that is your father. accidents and missing persons cases are easy to bury, and he doubts you'd be sad if you think your father went missing while 'working on a case.' it's nothing out of the ordinary. you have him now, afterall. what else do you need? he'll be your father and your lover. it's not that hard a task. anything you want.

he gently runs a hand through your hair, examines the fading bruise on your face. it makes his jaw clench.

you're the light of his life and he can't wait to spend the rest of it with you. he'll give you the life you deserve, fulfill the childhood that was stolen from you.

as you shift in his arms and mumble something incoherently; inho smiles. he puts the phone down and turns it off. with a newfound motivation, he presses another kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer.

tags: @gojoswaterbottle @melusinetears @mizzysx @starry-eyedxlove @ferrarifinnick @dilfismz @skibidirizzzlerrrr @cowuies @frontwomann @caramelcandescence @gemini-serpentis @showmeyourkickflip @lizaliza @namelesslosers @nightcovrd @snapeslittlewhore @thedreamingreaper @fariesrreal @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels @solsticeex

THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST PERFECT WAY A WRITER WROTE ART THE CLOWN LIKE THE WAY HE EXPRESSES HIMSELF

♡♡♡

Characters : Art the Clown (Terrifier), afab!reader

Warnings/CW : blood, talks about murder, domesticity, HARD smut, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, squirting, oral (f! Receiving), Art himself, silly stuff, cussing, reader has a poochina, a lot of words, etc etc

A/N : IM BACK and OBSESSED with Art rn yall r gunna get sm of this clown omgggg (he looks so hot in that gif)

It's 8:50pm.

You're laying on your couch, your head on one armrest, your feet resting on the cushion. You're dressed in your pajamas, a soda on the coffee stand and a bag of chips in your arms. You watch your favorite show on the TV. Almost every light is off around you, which would scare anyone. Especially where you live, and knowing what- rather whos- been creeping around the streets recently. Lucky for you, you're dating him. So you'd say you're pretty safe. At least you hope so. The only light on is a small kitchen light, and the light coming from the TV screen.

There was three knocks at your front door, which was a couple feet away from where you're laying down. You recognized those knocks. "It's open!" You shout and shove some chips into your mouth. The door opens, revealing your murderous clown boyfriend, Art. He walks in, a frown on his face for a second before his grin returns. He shuts and locks the door behind him and he drops his bag full of weapons by the couch.

Art walks up to you happily and reaches over to hug you. That's when the familiar (too familiar) smell of blood hits your nose and you stop Art from hugging you. You get a better look at him, now realizing that he's covered in blood. The clown sulks a bit when he's rejected affection. "Babe, you need to shower."

Art rolls his eyes and leans back a little in the process, putting his hands up in a fake surrender. He looks side to side a couple times before he tries to hug you again, huffing dramatically when you again, refuse to touch him. "Go shower and we can cuddle." His mouth forms an "O" shape and his eyes widen. He nods vigorously and turns on his heels and speeds to the bathroom. You laugh and focus back on the TV and your snacks.

♡♡♡

After a while, you're still laying on the couch, sipping your soda and eating from your almost-finished bag of chips. Suddenly, right next to your ear, a loud squeak sound startles you. You jump (or if you're like me, you scream too) and look behind you where the noise was. And there he was; your boyfriend. He leaned back in silent laughter, pointing at you, still holding the horn he loves so much that he used to scare you.

You roll your eyes and laugh with him a little. Instead of his usual clown attire, he has a black T-shirt on, with the word "cunt" across the chest in white and black sweatpants. He still has his usual clowny makeup on, just now it's cleaned of blood. When laughter dies down, Art suddenly lunges at you, hugging you over the couch, tightly. You hug his arm. "Come around so we can cuddle." He instantly shoots up and scrambles to walk around the couch. You didn't have time to fully open your arms before he laid down on you. His arms wrap around you and he nuzzles his face in your chest.

You wrap your arms around Art, just as tightly as his arms wrap around you. His hands slide down your back and to your ass, a huge grins on his face, thought he's not looking at you. You let him feel you up and watch the TV. Until you feel Art squeeze your ass a couple times. He finally looks up, his shit-eating grin not leaving his face. "Art-" you look down at him. He maintains eye contact with you as he gives you a couple more squeezes, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You press your cheek against his head and laugh a little with him. "I love you," you tell him softly. He squeezes you tighter and kisses your collarbone. "Do you love me too?" He nods vigorously as a response, then sits up a little, outstretching his arms, seeming to say "this much", his smile not leaving his face. You smile up at him and he collapses again into your arms, squeezing you tight.

You continue to watch TV as Art snuggles against you, clinging onto you and locking his eyes onto your face; not once looking at the TV. You play with the tag on the back- inside of his shirt as his arms stay fully wrapped around your waist, forcing your back to arch a bit. You look over at the clock. 9:56 pm.

"Baby," you reach for the remote and turn off the TV and sit up a bit, "lets go to bed." Art wiggles his eyebrows at that and you just scoff as a reply. He gets up and so do you. Art bends his elbow to you, offering to hold your arm, almost like a butler would to the princess. His other hand on his hip and he continues to smile widely. You hook your arm into his and he happily guides you both to your shared bedroom. He opens the bedroom door and reaches in to find the lightswitch, his tongue sticking out in an almost cartoonish manner of concentration. His smile returns when he flicks on the light and he fully opens the door, let's go of your arm, and gestures you in, in a "ladies first" kind of manner. You tiredly laugh and walk into the room. Art shut the door behind him when he enters too.

You tear off your bra and pull down your pants, then climb under the covers. Art climbs into bed with you, immediately snuggling close to you, burying his face in your neck. After a while, he pulls away and points at his cheek. "Kiss?" He nods and you kiss where he pointed. He turns his face to show his other cheek, pointing to it too, and you kiss it. He turns again and points to the cheek you kissed first and you lean in to kiss it again, when he moves his head at the last minute, making you kiss his lips. He silently laughs, pointing at you, silently saying "gotcha!". "Hey!" You laugh.

You flip eachother over, getting on top of him. His mouth forms an "O" shape for a second before his grin returns and he wiggles his eyebrows, his hands tracing your back. "If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked." You kiss his lips and Art immediately presses his hand on the back of your head, tilting his head opposite of yours. You hum as you two kiss. You pulled away from the kiss, which makes Art frown, and he pushes you back into his lips. You smile and laugh a little bit kiss him back.

Arts hand goes down once again, giving your ass a playful squeeze. After a while of kissing, you two pull away and you lay on his side, looking up at him. How you loved this man. This sick, sick man. You both look at eachothers eyes, the only sound being heard is your breathing and an occasional car driving past coming for outside. You can't even hear him breathe. It's not like he's human anyway.

Art blows you a kiss, which you reply back with the back of your hand against your forehead, in a dramatic fashion, throwing your head back. Art holds you closely and buries his face into your neck, grinning. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised, as he slips his hand under your underwear, his hand now on your bare ass. When you look at him, silently questioning him, his eyebrow raises further up. "..finee." you roll your eyes and smile down at him.

Arts eyes light up instantly and he gets on top of you. He kisses your neck, rougher than his other kisses earlier that night. He grabs onto your hips and hoists you up so your head lays against the headboard, his body between your legs. Art dips his head down between your legs and bites your pantyline and tugs it off with his teeth, and painfully slow. He maintains eye contact the whole time and when you lock eyes with him, he wiggles his eyebrows in a playful manner, which you reply back with a breathy laugh.

Art pushes your legs back as far as they can comfortably go. He finally breaks eye contact to stare down at your pussy, licking his lips in an- again- almost cartoonish manner. He stays staring at it for seconds too long, making you look away a little embarrassed, feeling too exposed for too long now. Suddenly he dives in, not even going easy first. Your thighs tremble and you moan in suprise, your hands grabbing onto the bedsheets. Art goes from roughly sucking on your clit, shoving his tongue into you, and making out with your pussy, roughly moving his head side to side as he does. He occasionally looks up to watch your reaction to his movements, then looks back down at your pussy. He pulls away, making you look down at him. He uses one hand to point at the hand holding your legs apart. You caught the gist, replaces his hands on the back of your knees, opening your legs, with yours.

Once his hands are free, he licks his lips again and dives back in. Art uses his thumbs to spread you open, giving him more access. He goes faster and faster and you moan louder and louder. Your thighs tremble and Art continues eating you out. Art pulls away every so often, licking around your pussy, your inner thighs, and your ass; licking up your juices. He locks his lips around your clit and sucks roughly, moving his head side to side.

You moan louder and louder, warning him of your upcoming orgasm. He continues his movements, his hands gripping your hips and pressing his mouth impossibly closer to you. You grip onto your own thighs as your head rolls back, as your orgasm hits you like a train. You moan loudly, calling out his name, your legs threatening to close but your strong grip on them keeps them open. Art slows down just a little bit, but does stop. You squirm a little from the overstimulation as he continues.

After another minute of Art making out with your pussy, he pulls away, sitting up. His eyes stay locked on your pussy, his fingers teasing and tracing it. His hand goes to your thigh as you let go of your legs and they relax. Art grabs your chin, roughly but not enough to hurt, and he looks at you darkly. That stare would've scared anybody. But you've gotten used to it. You can tell what his eyes are telling you, rather than what his mouth can't. He kisses you roughly, and you taste yourself on his lips. How you're not covered in his face paint is beyond you. Maybe it's not face paint. Maybe it's just his face. Who knows?

Art pulls down his pants as he kisses you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He keeps his pants still on, but pulls it down just enough to where his dick is now exposed. He gives you no warning before he enters you, then wasting no time to start moving. You struggle to kiss him back, while you moan louder than you did when he ate you out a couple minutes ago. His hands grip your hips and he fucks into you roughly. You grip onto his arms as your back arches. Art bites down onto your neck, occasionally kissing it too.

Your head starts to go fuzzy as he continues his almost brutal pace, your hands on his back now, nails digging into his back. "Art...art- baby..." you moan out, making him look up at you. His expression looks relaxed but hungry, which was rare but not unusual. "Faster...I want more... give me everything you have..-!" You begged, but before you can finish your sentence, Art does exactly what you asked of him.

His pace is almost unhuman, and brutal. But really, that's all he is: unhuman and brutal. But it hurts so good. Your legs try to close, but with Arts body between them, they stay open. His eyes never leave your face as he continues. His signature grin returns- with no time for you to question the sudden expression change- and he delivers a couple rougher, harder thrusts into you, going deeper and deeper into you with each prolonged thrust.

You look up at him and he silently laughs before diving back in to attack your neck, and his fast, hard thrust come back. Your brain feels fuzzy, to the point where you're now just babbling nonsense into his ear as you moan. Your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble. After a bit of Art raming into you, seemingly, unmercifully and attacking your neck, you again warn him of your upcoming orgasm. His movements don't slow down, or speed up, as you cum for the second time that night. Even when the feeling subsides, he doesn't stop. He doesn't even slow down. He just sits up and looks into your eyes as he overstimulates you, again.

He picks up your legs, pressing your knees on either side of your chest as he continues. Drool collects a little on the corner of your mouth. You grip onto his arms as he (borderline creepily) smiles at you, showing no signs of stopping. You couldn't tell if you wanted to beg for more, or beg for mercy. "Art! Fuuuck!" You borderline scream, your nails digging into his arms as you cum again, this time squirting, making a mess on his shirt- that he was still wearing- ,his pants, and the bedsheets under you.

Art looks down as you make the mess, almost like in a trance. Your legs tremble in his grasp and he finally stops. He pulls out and looks up at you tired, fucked out face. His face looked suprise and points to the mess. "What?" You question, panting. He looks between your mess and your face a couple times, surprised. Art grins and flips you over to your stomach. You lay your head on pillows as Art lifts your hips up. His hands never leaves your hips, knowing your wobbly legs wouldn't be able to hold yourself up.

He enters you once again, making you moan, this time muffled by the pillow. His harsh pace from before starts up again and your eyes roll back and back arches. You moan loudly- again muffled by the pillow- as he continues. After a while, it seemed like Art didn't like how the pillow muffled your moans, so he digs his hand into your hair and pulls your head back. You continue moaning, blabbering his name, along with nonsense.

In the midst of your incoherent blabbering, you begged him for more, which he caught onto. Art throws your head back into the pillow and grip your hips harder. He goes harder, matching his speed, so much that it hurts. You moan loudly and your legs threaten to give out but Art keeps you on your knees. You turn to your head to look back at him, and he's grinning, like usual, looking at your reaction.

Art let's go of one of your hips, his hand roughly smacking your ass as he continues. When he heard your loud moan of a response, he deliveres another rough hit to the same spot. And another. And another. And a final one. He massages the spot he abused, not slowing down his thrusts for a second. You mutter to him that you're close and he continues his pace against you. You moan loudly as you cum, again.

And like everytime, he doesn't stop when you came. You reach back and grab onto his hand. He keeps going with his pace you again, make a mess on him and the bed. Your moans now sounding more broken and tired, but still loud. Even after you squirt for the second time tonight, Art didn't stop. He keeps his harsh pace until you feel him finish inside you and pulls out. Your body relaxes, but tenses up again when Art shoves two of his fingers into you, moving them in a rough pace.

You let out broken, sob-like moans as he continues, your thighs shaking. He keeps his pace steady and harsh until he sees you starting to squirt again. He quickly pulls out, and dives his face into your pussy as you cum, drinking your fluids. He grips onto your thighs as he cleans you up and sits up, finally. He flips you over so you're on your back, and stares at you face; red, lips puffy, eyes wet, and the corners of your mouth wet too (whether that be from drool and from he made out with you after he ate you out).

Art points at his now wet shirt, pants and the bedsheets, then pointing an accusing finger at you, moving his hands to rest on his hips as he nods, like a disappointed parent. "Your fault," you tiredly spit back. Art throws his hands up in a fake surrender and leans back a little and rolls his eyes. "Go change you're wet-" He grins at that. "That's what she said," You speak for him. Arts grin stays on his face as he gets up from the bed and changes clothes. Once he's changed and you slip your underwear back on, he crawls back into bed with you, covering the two of you in your blanket. He hugs you tightly, his grip more innocent now, his head on your chest. He traces a heart on your back, his own way of saying "I love you".

"I love you too," you whisper to him and he holds you tighter. "...so much." You mutter before falling asleep in his arms. Legs hurt, stomach aches, brains static, but hey, you're laying in bed with a torturous, brutal killer clown and you're alive. And loved by him. And every "pain" he does give you is always in bed. And you love it. ♡

I'm sorry if there's spelling mistakes I wrote this at 11pm, fell asleep, and finished it when I woke up 😭😭

I swear theres alot of more things art would've done 🥴🥴🤌🤌🤌

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader SMUT • headcanons, how Art fucks, what he gets off to, etc

big content warning! contains some stuff that may gross you out; read at your own risk: menstruation kink, piss kink, oral sex, anal sex, object insertion, blood kink, various weapons mentioned, bondage, human hair and bones, butts and what comes out of butts, public sex, cockwarming, mostly dom!Art and sub!reader

🔪 Remember the work desk with all of Art’s weapons and tools on it? He knows you want him to fuck you, but he’s got shit to do (meaning weapons to build) so he lets you sit under the desk, cockwarming him while he works. You’re on the ground between his knees, patiently holding him in your mouth. When he finishes constructing his latest instrument of torture/slaughter, Art pats his palm against his thigh, wordlessly telling you to climb up into his lap and ride him.🩸

🔪 Art enjoys blood and guts, so it goes without saying that during your period, he’s particularly eager to fuck you. He can detect the slight change in your scent, usually aware you’ve begun to bleed even before you know. He plays with your pussy like it’s a new, special toy when you’re bleeding, spreading your lips and tracing his name on your inner thighs in red. Seeing/touching/tasting blood that comes from you is special to Art. It’s the only time he gets to play in blood without it being the result of him hurting someone, so that makes the experience unique for him. He saves your used pads for ‘alone time,’ using them later as a ‘sleeve,’ to masturbate with.🩸

🔪 Art sometimes fucks you with unconventional objects, like the handle of one of his weapons (knife, axe) or the neck of a bottle. If you’ve displeased him but he still wants to fuck you, he might deny you his cock and instead use something else, like the handle of one of his knives or the barrel of an (empty!) gun, to make you come instead of his cock, as a degrading ‘punishment.’🩸

🔪 Art loves bondage. He knows what he’s doing when it comes to tying knots, as evidenced by the multiple victims you’ve watched him restrain. He enjoys the power dynamic of being in absolute control of another person. When that crosses over into sex, you both get off on him tying you up and doing whatever the fuck he wants with your body.🩸

🔪 Art’s methods can border on sadistic at times (I mean how could they not??) but because he wants to keep you around to play with for the long haul, he never pushes you beyond the limits of safety, no matter how many new ways he comes up with to plug every hole in your body. If we know anything about Art, it’s that he’s perceptive. He studies the way your body responds to different forms of stimulation and mentally catalogs the information for later. All of his skill in crafting tools of torture means he’s able to create customized ‘toys,’ to fuck you with. But the thing is, they’re never normal, or sweet; they always contain something fucked-up and sick. Art once surprised you with a whip he’d put together for you. Its strands were soft and felt so good gliding over your clit. You came so hard when Art whipped your pussy till it was puffy and leaking. It would have been a wonderful gift, if you hadn’t realized later, upon closer inspection, that the strands now wet with your cum were in fact strands of human hair. And the custom dildo Art made for you, the one that was so smooth and colored beige/white? You later found out Art had chiseled and smoothed down a human bone to make it for you. The information almost made you sick on the spot. Art found your horrified reaction hilarious, of course, and it didn’t stop him from laying you down and fucking you with it all the same…🩸

🔪 ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL …

He loves to fuck you in the ass. Art’s a nasty little motherfucker when it comes to the stuff that comes out of butts, and I’m not gonna elaborate here, but you can use your imagination to follow where I’m going with this…🩸

🔪 Art has zero inhibitions: he kills anyone, anywhere. Imagine that relating to sex; of course he’s going to fuck you wherever he wants, including places where you might get caught. Sex in public/risky spaces feels natural to Art, because he literally does not give a single fuck. Remember the first time you ever saw him? When you stumbled out the back door of that sleazy little bar in your home town, so drunk off your ass you thought you were leaving through the front? Art was in the alleyway behind the bar, black garbage bag hoisted over his shoulder, not even looking for anyone to fuck up but when he saw you, he knew he’d found a victim for the night. He’d planned to stalk you home and do unspeakable things to you-but as you took the lead and approached him, there in the alleyway, he was caught off guard, his whole plan upended the moment you slid your arms around his waist, stood up on your tiptoes, and placed a soft, sloppy kiss on his cheek. He was awestruck, and even if he could speak, Art would still have been at a loss for words. You walked him backward a few steps, lining him up against a dumpster in the alleyway. You began fondling him through his costume, grinning when you realized his body had already begun to respond. One thing led to another, and within minutes, Art had you bent over that dumpster, with a fresh hole torn in the front of his costume where your bodies were joined…🩸

🔪 No one would associate The Miles County Clown with tenderness, but if they knew Art, they would see a softer side of him only you do. He’s still fucking deranged, don’t get me wrong. But Art also has moments of vulnerability, when there’s nothing he wants more than to hold you. Sitting in Art’s lap, he wraps his arms around you and stays still, so still, just enjoying the soft thump of your heartbeat against his, and the low hum of your breath on his chest. Your nearness calms the monster inside Art so well that sometimes, he forgets he is the monster itself…🩸

🔪 Another benefit of having you in his lap? Art realized he could use his strength to make you stay in his lap no matter how badly you had to get up and take a piss, forcing you to wet yourself all over him. You felt him gradually getting hard under you as you began to wriggle on his lap. Art could see your discomfort, and when you told him you needed to get up and take a piss, he refused to release you. You’d expect him to be smiling at you at a time like this, silently mocking you; but the look in his eyes was deathly serious, pitch black and full of a demented lust that would have had you locked you in place even if his arms hadn’t. Blushing into his shoulder, you accepted the fact that Art wasn’t letting go of you any time soon, and that he really was into this. He wanted this to happen. You allowed your bladder to empty, a soft trickle saturating your panties, followed by a steady stream of hot piss that spread over Art’s lap. His clothes were soaked through below the waist, your piss running down between his thighs and dampening the couch cushion beneath you. Art was rock hard by this point, his wet cock throbbing against your pussy. He lifted you off his lap just enough to reach between your bodies and position his tip against your entrance, then used your piss as a lube to slide inside you…🩸

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader SMUT • headcanons, how Art fucks, what he gets off to, etc

big content warning! contains some stuff that may gross you out; read at your own risk: menstruation kink, piss kink, oral sex, anal sex, object insertion, blood kink, various weapons mentioned, bondage, human hair and bones, butts and what comes out of butts, public sex, cockwarming, mostly dom!Art and sub!reader

🔪 Remember the work desk with all of Art’s weapons and tools on it? He knows you want him to fuck you, but he’s got shit to do (meaning weapons to build) so he lets you sit under the desk, cockwarming him while he works. You’re on the ground between his knees, patiently holding him in your mouth. When he finishes constructing his latest instrument of torture/slaughter, Art pats his palm against his thigh, wordlessly telling you to climb up into his lap and ride him.🩸

🔪 Art enjoys blood and guts, so it goes without saying that during your period, he’s particularly eager to fuck you. He can detect the slight change in your scent, usually aware you’ve begun to bleed even before you know. He plays with your pussy like it’s a new, special toy when you’re bleeding, spreading your lips and tracing his name on your inner thighs in red. Seeing/touching/tasting blood that comes from you is special to Art. It’s the only time he gets to play in blood without it being the result of him hurting someone, so that makes the experience unique for him. He saves your used pads for ‘alone time,’ using them later as a ‘sleeve,’ to masturbate with.🩸

🔪 Art sometimes fucks you with unconventional objects, like the handle of one of his weapons (knife, axe) or the neck of a bottle. If you’ve displeased him but he still wants to fuck you, he might deny you his cock and instead use something else, like the handle of one of his knives or the barrel of an (empty!) gun, to make you come instead of his cock, as a degrading ‘punishment.’🩸

🔪 Art loves bondage. He knows what he’s doing when it comes to tying knots, as evidenced by the multiple victims you’ve watched him restrain. He enjoys the power dynamic of being in absolute control of another person. When that crosses over into sex, you both get off on him tying you up and doing whatever the fuck he wants with your body.🩸

🔪 Art’s methods can border on sadistic at times (I mean how could they not??) but because he wants to keep you around to play with for the long haul, he never pushes you beyond the limits of safety, no matter how many new ways he comes up with to plug every hole in your body. If we know anything about Art, it’s that he’s perceptive. He studies the way your body responds to different forms of stimulation and mentally catalogs the information for later. All of his skill in crafting tools of torture means he’s able to create customized ‘toys,’ to fuck you with. But the thing is, they’re never normal, or sweet; they always contain something fucked-up and sick. Art once surprised you with a whip he’d put together for you. Its strands were soft and felt so good gliding over your clit. You came so hard when Art whipped your pussy till it was puffy and leaking. It would have been a wonderful gift, if you hadn’t realized later, upon closer inspection, that the strands now wet with your cum were in fact strands of human hair. And the custom dildo Art made for you, the one that was so smooth and colored beige/white? You later found out Art had chiseled and smoothed down a human bone to make it for you. The information almost made you sick on the spot. Art found your horrified reaction hilarious, of course, and it didn’t stop him from laying you down and fucking you with it all the same…🩸

🔪 ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL …

He loves to fuck you in the ass. Art’s a nasty little motherfucker when it comes to the stuff that comes out of butts, and I’m not gonna elaborate here, but you can use your imagination to follow where I’m going with this…🩸

🔪 Art has zero inhibitions: he kills anyone, anywhere. Imagine that relating to sex; of course he’s going to fuck you wherever he wants, including places where you might get caught. Sex in public/risky spaces feels natural to Art, because he literally does not give a single fuck. Remember the first time you ever saw him? When you stumbled out the back door of that sleazy little bar in your home town, so drunk off your ass you thought you were leaving through the front? Art was in the alleyway behind the bar, black garbage bag hoisted over his shoulder, not even looking for anyone to fuck up but when he saw you, he knew he’d found a victim for the night. He’d planned to stalk you home and do unspeakable things to you-but as you took the lead and approached him, there in the alleyway, he was caught off guard, his whole plan upended the moment you slid your arms around his waist, stood up on your tiptoes, and placed a soft, sloppy kiss on his cheek. He was awestruck, and even if he could speak, Art would still have been at a loss for words. You walked him backward a few steps, lining him up against a dumpster in the alleyway. You began fondling him through his costume, grinning when you realized his body had already begun to respond. One thing led to another, and within minutes, Art had you bent over that dumpster, with a fresh hole torn in the front of his costume where your bodies were joined…🩸

🔪 No one would associate The Miles County Clown with tenderness, but if they knew Art, they would see a softer side of him only you do. He’s still fucking deranged, don’t get me wrong. But Art also has moments of vulnerability, when there’s nothing he wants more than to hold you. Sitting in Art’s lap, he wraps his arms around you and stays still, so still, just enjoying the soft thump of your heartbeat against his, and the low hum of your breath on his chest. Your nearness calms the monster inside Art so well that sometimes, he forgets he is the monster itself…🩸

🔪 Another benefit of having you in his lap? Art realized he could use his strength to make you stay in his lap no matter how badly you had to get up and take a piss, forcing you to wet yourself all over him. You felt him gradually getting hard under you as you began to wriggle on his lap. Art could see your discomfort, and when you told him you needed to get up and take a piss, he refused to release you. You’d expect him to be smiling at you at a time like this, silently mocking you; but the look in his eyes was deathly serious, pitch black and full of a demented lust that would have had you locked you in place even if his arms hadn’t. Blushing into his shoulder, you accepted the fact that Art wasn’t letting go of you any time soon, and that he really was into this. He wanted this to happen. You allowed your bladder to empty, a soft trickle saturating your panties, followed by a steady stream of hot piss that spread over Art’s lap. His clothes were soaked through below the waist, your piss running down between his thighs and dampening the couch cushion beneath you. Art was rock hard by this point, his wet cock throbbing against your pussy. He lifted you off his lap just enough to reach between your bodies and position his tip against your entrance, then used your piss as a lube to slide inside you…🩸

UGHHHH I LOVEE LESTER SO MUCHHHH MY CUTIEE PATOOTIE BABYYY 😭😭

Hiiii! Could you write some like basic relationship headcannons for Bo and/or Vincent? I’m curious about your interpretation of them

How they behave in a relationship

House of Wax headcanons

A/n: Thank you for asking, anon! I really like doing some relationship headcanons when I get into writing for a new fandom (did the same with The Lost Boys), because it makes me think about how I want to write these characters and their dynamics in the future. So it's basically a good base understanding of the characters and how they behave. This definitely turned out longer than I anticipated! Guess I had a lot of thoughts. I also added some for Lester as a little extra! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: obsessive and possessive behaviour

Bo

So we all know that Bo has issues, which would definitely lead to some bumps in the development of your relationship.

The whole concept of unconditional love is probably foreign for him, given his relationship with his parents as a child and the lack of proper affection he received from them. And the man also has a problem with trusting people.

So of course he has a hard time believing you at first when you say you have feelings for him. It would also take him a long time to realize what he was feeling for you.

He would get jealous when you spent time with his brothers, not completely understanding why he was so frustrated, and of course he would lash out. You had no idea why he would suddenly go into these foul moods and sulk the rest of the day. It’s enlightening for both of you when you finally figure out that he was jealous, and why exactly he was feeling that way. After that, you make it your mission to show him as much affection as he allowed to reassure him that he’s important for you and is not in any way less than his brothers in your eyes, even if he was that way in their mother’s eyes.

I cannot emphasize enough how emotionally constipated this man is. Sure, flirting and working his charm on people is one thing, but emotional vulnerability is a whole other universe.

Even after he would start to slowly open up to you, he would get scared that you would leave him. For a while he doesn’t trust you to actually stay because life was so cruel to him before.

Like one day it would feel like you’re finally getting somewhere with him, and the next he’s cold and distant again because he feels like if he lets this go any further he would just get hurt.

It’s hard work to get this man to open up to you and it would get immensely frustrating sometimes when he would close down again, but the end result is absolutely worth it.

Because I headcanon that Bo would be soft on his partner. Once you get this man to trust you and open up to you, it’s all over, he’s gone for you and he never lets you go. Of course he would still be a teasing bastard who can be mean sometimes, that’s just his nature and you love him for it. But he would never intentionally hurt you.

Given his hot headed and aggressive personality, there are times when he says stuff in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean and hurts your feeling without meaning to. For the most part you know how to deal with him when he gets like this, but sometimes he says something that cuts too deep.

He would always come to apologize all embarrassed. Or he would leave you small gift as an apology.

Now, he wouldn’t be soft in front of his brothers or be very obvious about it. In his words “He’s not doin’ all that sappy shit”. Rather, he would show his affection for you in little ways, and only when the two of you are alone. Like when you would patch him up after a victim gave him a hard time or in the morning after you guys just woke up. Those lingering touches, soft eyes and gentle kisses were only for you to witness.

However, even if he’s soft on you, he’s still who he is. Meaning, Bo is very obsessive and possessive when it comes to you. When he finally feels secure in your relationship he won’t get jealous when you spend time with his brothers, but he would still feel the need to make his claim over you obvious. He would leave hickeys on your neck or walk in when you were talking to one of his brothers only to pull you into his lap, his grip on your thigh hard to ignore. You would just roll your eyes good naturedly.

He also likes to show you off when there are visitors in Ambrose, introducing you as his pretty partner. But god forbid a guy stares for too long or tries anything with you. They would die a slow and painful death.

He likes to involve you in their business, mostly as distraction and keeping up the façade. He wouldn’t be against involving you in the actual killing if you show interest, but he wouldn’t push it either. Playing your part in front of the potential victims and helping the boys with traps and stuff is one thing, putting you in the line of fire is another.

He’s VERY protective. And of course it comes out of him in a violent way. Anyone looks at you longer than he likes? They’re dead. Anyone lays a finger on you? They’re dead. Someone actually dares to hurt you in any way? They’re absolutely butchered. You don’t have to like his way of dealing with things, but you learned to accept it.

His way of showing his love can also be rough. Think bruises on your skin from his grip, passionate kisses with a lot of possessiveness and lip biting, shoving you into various surfaces during your makeout sessions. Think lots of teasing and denying you what you want. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bo’s wild nature in very enticing and frankly addicting. Even if his flames burn you sometimes, he always makes sure to show you how much you mean to him. He’s not a talking-about-feelings guy, he doesn’t know how to adequately articulate what he’s feeling most of the time. But he will sure as hell show you through his actions.

Vincent

Let’s start with something everyone in the fandom agrees with. You would have to make sure Vinny takes care of himself. We all know he has a tendency to get so immersed in his work he forgets everything else.

So you bring him food to the basement, convince him to take showers etc. If you’re feeling sneaky, you can also ask for his help with something to get him out of the basement every once in a while, because he simply can’t say no to you.

Just like Bo, he probably also has some obsessive and possessive tendencies, but he shows them in a less violent way.

Example #1: hovering

Whenever he’s not utterly immersed in his work, he will follow you around and hover. You’re talking to one of his brothers? He’s right behind you listening. You’re cooking in the kitchen? He’s watching over your shoulder.

It can be sweet (he just wants to spend all his time with you) or it can be overbearing (he’s literally always there, breathing down your neck). It probably depends on the situation and also your interpretation.

Example #2: tons of art he secretly or not so secretly makes of you

This is another one where it can be interpreted in two ways. It can be endearing to see that he loves you so much and is so enamored by your looks that he would want to capture every little moment with you. He would do tiny sketches of you all the time, whether you’re spending some quiet quality time together, or maybe he walks into a room you’re in and the lighting is just right and you look so beautiful in that pose that he has to secretly draw it.

Or it can be overwhelming when you discover piles upon piles of sketchbooks all filled to the brim with drawings and paintings of you. (But I know which interpretation all of you would rather choose;))

I think he likes to see you interacting with his brothers, because it means you’re comfortable with them so it’s less likely that you would leave him. It’s probably something that he would be worried about at the beginning of your relationship, even more so depending on how exactly you ended up in Ambrose. He would be anxious about how you got along with Bo especially, given his temperament. But the more time you spent with them and the closer you got with them that anxiety would slowly dissipate.

Also, he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from Bo’s anger if something you did irritated him. He would silently stand between you and Bo, shielding you with his body or he would even drag his brother out of the room if that’s what was needed in that situation.

I think his love language would be quality time. He loves those quiet moments you spend together when he would be sculpting something small (maybe another animal figure to your growing collection) or sketching you sitting there next to him, while you read or do some art as well.

He treasures everything you make him, be it a painting, a drawing or even some small and simple wax figure he showed you how to make. Even if you’re not very good at art, he would still keep every little thing and decorate his workshop or his room with them.

Another way he shows his affection is small physical touches. He likes holding hands or have your legs in his lap when you’re hanging out and sketching, he gives you hugs from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder when you’re making breakfast, and he definitely likes snuggling in bed. Good luck trying to get up and start your day when he’s in the mood to cuddle!

When it comes to things like kissing, he’s very shy at first, but he becomes braver as your relationship develops. He’s not really big on long makeout sessions, but he likes to give you smaller kisses on your cheek and hands. When he does kiss you on the lips, I think he either prefers it gentle and sweet or slow and deep with a hint of possessiveness.

A big reason why it takes him some time to build up your relationship to kissing is obviously his mask. He likes it when you pepper small kisses on his face over the mask, but it was hard work to gain his trust enough for him to take it off in front of you. He would be incredibly anxious about what you would think of him, how your opinion of him would change once he showed you his face. So when he eventually takes it off and all he receives is love and support, he knows he will never let you go and will do everything in his power to protect you.

Just like Bo, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone if they hurt you. When visitors come to Ambrose he probably insists that you stay down in the basement and don’t come up until he comes to get you. But also just in case he would leave a knife with you (he most likely carved the hilt himself just for you). I think unlike Bo, Vincent would want you to stay out of the whole killing business as much as possible.

If the situation got out of hand and you got caught in the crossfire, his one and only focus would be to keep you safe. And once he made sure that you’re okay and far enough from danger he would viciously hunt down whoever dared to lay a finger on you. They wouldn’t become part of their gallery, their body wouldn’t be in a presentable state by the time he was done with them.

Lester

He treats you like you’re the most precious thing in the world (and for him, you probably are), but he’s also a cheeky little bastard.

Loves to make suggestive jokes or complimenting you, basically anything to make you blush in embarrassment. It’s his favourite sight, your rosy cheeks, and you can bet that he will have a little self-satisfied smile on his face every time.

He’s VERY handsy. He just loves touching you any chance he gets. He has a hand on your thigh whenever and wherever you’re sitting next to him, be it his truck, the couch, even under the dining table. He also likes holding your hand, playing with your hair (if you have longer hair he definitely learns how to braid it), having his arm around your waist when you’re talking to visitors. And he’s not above getting handsy when other people are around, his touch wandering to places that make you squirm.

And the kisses. He loves kissing you. From little pecks all over your face to sweet and passionate kisses on your lips. Long makeout sessions are a must in your relationship. He could spend hours with your lips against his, teasing and tasting you while you’re in his lap in his truck on some secluded side road, his hands wandering over your sides and your curves.

So yes, his love language in definitely physical touch.

He also likes giving you gifts: wildflowers he picked in the woods, little trinkets he made you from bones, nice rocks he found.

Since he’s not as involved in his brothers’ business, it’s less likely that you end up in risky situations. Even so, there’s still the occasional asshole when you’re interacting with potential victims before showing them the directions to Ambrose. You’ve had your fair share of disgusting stares and flirting attempts. That you can manage. What you can’t tolerate however is when these assholes find out you’re with Lester and starts making comments about him. He finds it incredibly hot when you get all mouthy and talk back in defense of him.

In turn, he can’t tolerate the unwanted attention on you. That’s when he starts visibly playing with his knife, and that usually does the trick. And even if it doesn’t, he feels better knowing what happens to them after you turn them over to Bo and Vincent. He gets even more touchy after incidents like this, and you’re happy to satiate his neediness with hugs and kisses.

Even though he’s not a killer as much as his brothers and does everything in his power to stay out of it – and to also keep you out of it –, if the situation escalates and you’re in danger, you can bet he’s ready to do whatever he has to do to keep you safe. Even if he doesn’t like it, your safety and wellbeing is always his top priority.

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Hiiii! Could you write some like basic relationship headcannons for Bo and/or Vincent? I’m curious about your interpretation of them

How they behave in a relationship

House of Wax headcanons

A/n: Thank you for asking, anon! I really like doing some relationship headcanons when I get into writing for a new fandom (did the same with The Lost Boys), because it makes me think about how I want to write these characters and their dynamics in the future. So it's basically a good base understanding of the characters and how they behave. This definitely turned out longer than I anticipated! Guess I had a lot of thoughts. I also added some for Lester as a little extra! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: obsessive and possessive behaviour

Bo

So we all know that Bo has issues, which would definitely lead to some bumps in the development of your relationship.

The whole concept of unconditional love is probably foreign for him, given his relationship with his parents as a child and the lack of proper affection he received from them. And the man also has a problem with trusting people.

So of course he has a hard time believing you at first when you say you have feelings for him. It would also take him a long time to realize what he was feeling for you.

He would get jealous when you spent time with his brothers, not completely understanding why he was so frustrated, and of course he would lash out. You had no idea why he would suddenly go into these foul moods and sulk the rest of the day. It’s enlightening for both of you when you finally figure out that he was jealous, and why exactly he was feeling that way. After that, you make it your mission to show him as much affection as he allowed to reassure him that he’s important for you and is not in any way less than his brothers in your eyes, even if he was that way in their mother’s eyes.

I cannot emphasize enough how emotionally constipated this man is. Sure, flirting and working his charm on people is one thing, but emotional vulnerability is a whole other universe.

Even after he would start to slowly open up to you, he would get scared that you would leave him. For a while he doesn’t trust you to actually stay because life was so cruel to him before.

Like one day it would feel like you’re finally getting somewhere with him, and the next he’s cold and distant again because he feels like if he lets this go any further he would just get hurt.

It’s hard work to get this man to open up to you and it would get immensely frustrating sometimes when he would close down again, but the end result is absolutely worth it.

Because I headcanon that Bo would be soft on his partner. Once you get this man to trust you and open up to you, it’s all over, he’s gone for you and he never lets you go. Of course he would still be a teasing bastard who can be mean sometimes, that’s just his nature and you love him for it. But he would never intentionally hurt you.

Given his hot headed and aggressive personality, there are times when he says stuff in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean and hurts your feeling without meaning to. For the most part you know how to deal with him when he gets like this, but sometimes he says something that cuts too deep.

He would always come to apologize all embarrassed. Or he would leave you small gift as an apology.

Now, he wouldn’t be soft in front of his brothers or be very obvious about it. In his words “He’s not doin’ all that sappy shit”. Rather, he would show his affection for you in little ways, and only when the two of you are alone. Like when you would patch him up after a victim gave him a hard time or in the morning after you guys just woke up. Those lingering touches, soft eyes and gentle kisses were only for you to witness.

However, even if he’s soft on you, he’s still who he is. Meaning, Bo is very obsessive and possessive when it comes to you. When he finally feels secure in your relationship he won’t get jealous when you spend time with his brothers, but he would still feel the need to make his claim over you obvious. He would leave hickeys on your neck or walk in when you were talking to one of his brothers only to pull you into his lap, his grip on your thigh hard to ignore. You would just roll your eyes good naturedly.

He also likes to show you off when there are visitors in Ambrose, introducing you as his pretty partner. But god forbid a guy stares for too long or tries anything with you. They would die a slow and painful death.

He likes to involve you in their business, mostly as distraction and keeping up the façade. He wouldn’t be against involving you in the actual killing if you show interest, but he wouldn’t push it either. Playing your part in front of the potential victims and helping the boys with traps and stuff is one thing, putting you in the line of fire is another.

He’s VERY protective. And of course it comes out of him in a violent way. Anyone looks at you longer than he likes? They’re dead. Anyone lays a finger on you? They’re dead. Someone actually dares to hurt you in any way? They’re absolutely butchered. You don’t have to like his way of dealing with things, but you learned to accept it.

His way of showing his love can also be rough. Think bruises on your skin from his grip, passionate kisses with a lot of possessiveness and lip biting, shoving you into various surfaces during your makeout sessions. Think lots of teasing and denying you what you want. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bo’s wild nature in very enticing and frankly addicting. Even if his flames burn you sometimes, he always makes sure to show you how much you mean to him. He’s not a talking-about-feelings guy, he doesn’t know how to adequately articulate what he’s feeling most of the time. But he will sure as hell show you through his actions.

Vincent

Let’s start with something everyone in the fandom agrees with. You would have to make sure Vinny takes care of himself. We all know he has a tendency to get so immersed in his work he forgets everything else.

So you bring him food to the basement, convince him to take showers etc. If you’re feeling sneaky, you can also ask for his help with something to get him out of the basement every once in a while, because he simply can’t say no to you.

Just like Bo, he probably also has some obsessive and possessive tendencies, but he shows them in a less violent way.

Example #1: hovering

Whenever he’s not utterly immersed in his work, he will follow you around and hover. You’re talking to one of his brothers? He’s right behind you listening. You’re cooking in the kitchen? He’s watching over your shoulder.

It can be sweet (he just wants to spend all his time with you) or it can be overbearing (he’s literally always there, breathing down your neck). It probably depends on the situation and also your interpretation.

Example #2: tons of art he secretly or not so secretly makes of you

This is another one where it can be interpreted in two ways. It can be endearing to see that he loves you so much and is so enamored by your looks that he would want to capture every little moment with you. He would do tiny sketches of you all the time, whether you’re spending some quiet quality time together, or maybe he walks into a room you’re in and the lighting is just right and you look so beautiful in that pose that he has to secretly draw it.

Or it can be overwhelming when you discover piles upon piles of sketchbooks all filled to the brim with drawings and paintings of you. (But I know which interpretation all of you would rather choose;))

I think he likes to see you interacting with his brothers, because it means you’re comfortable with them so it’s less likely that you would leave him. It’s probably something that he would be worried about at the beginning of your relationship, even more so depending on how exactly you ended up in Ambrose. He would be anxious about how you got along with Bo especially, given his temperament. But the more time you spent with them and the closer you got with them that anxiety would slowly dissipate.

Also, he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from Bo’s anger if something you did irritated him. He would silently stand between you and Bo, shielding you with his body or he would even drag his brother out of the room if that’s what was needed in that situation.

I think his love language would be quality time. He loves those quiet moments you spend together when he would be sculpting something small (maybe another animal figure to your growing collection) or sketching you sitting there next to him, while you read or do some art as well.

He treasures everything you make him, be it a painting, a drawing or even some small and simple wax figure he showed you how to make. Even if you’re not very good at art, he would still keep every little thing and decorate his workshop or his room with them.

Another way he shows his affection is small physical touches. He likes holding hands or have your legs in his lap when you’re hanging out and sketching, he gives you hugs from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder when you’re making breakfast, and he definitely likes snuggling in bed. Good luck trying to get up and start your day when he’s in the mood to cuddle!

When it comes to things like kissing, he’s very shy at first, but he becomes braver as your relationship develops. He’s not really big on long makeout sessions, but he likes to give you smaller kisses on your cheek and hands. When he does kiss you on the lips, I think he either prefers it gentle and sweet or slow and deep with a hint of possessiveness.

A big reason why it takes him some time to build up your relationship to kissing is obviously his mask. He likes it when you pepper small kisses on his face over the mask, but it was hard work to gain his trust enough for him to take it off in front of you. He would be incredibly anxious about what you would think of him, how your opinion of him would change once he showed you his face. So when he eventually takes it off and all he receives is love and support, he knows he will never let you go and will do everything in his power to protect you.

Just like Bo, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone if they hurt you. When visitors come to Ambrose he probably insists that you stay down in the basement and don’t come up until he comes to get you. But also just in case he would leave a knife with you (he most likely carved the hilt himself just for you). I think unlike Bo, Vincent would want you to stay out of the whole killing business as much as possible.

If the situation got out of hand and you got caught in the crossfire, his one and only focus would be to keep you safe. And once he made sure that you’re okay and far enough from danger he would viciously hunt down whoever dared to lay a finger on you. They wouldn’t become part of their gallery, their body wouldn’t be in a presentable state by the time he was done with them.

Lester

He treats you like you’re the most precious thing in the world (and for him, you probably are), but he’s also a cheeky little bastard.

Loves to make suggestive jokes or complimenting you, basically anything to make you blush in embarrassment. It’s his favourite sight, your rosy cheeks, and you can bet that he will have a little self-satisfied smile on his face every time.

He’s VERY handsy. He just loves touching you any chance he gets. He has a hand on your thigh whenever and wherever you’re sitting next to him, be it his truck, the couch, even under the dining table. He also likes holding your hand, playing with your hair (if you have longer hair he definitely learns how to braid it), having his arm around your waist when you’re talking to visitors. And he’s not above getting handsy when other people are around, his touch wandering to places that make you squirm.

And the kisses. He loves kissing you. From little pecks all over your face to sweet and passionate kisses on your lips. Long makeout sessions are a must in your relationship. He could spend hours with your lips against his, teasing and tasting you while you’re in his lap in his truck on some secluded side road, his hands wandering over your sides and your curves.

So yes, his love language in definitely physical touch.

He also likes giving you gifts: wildflowers he picked in the woods, little trinkets he made you from bones, nice rocks he found.

Since he’s not as involved in his brothers’ business, it’s less likely that you end up in risky situations. Even so, there’s still the occasional asshole when you’re interacting with potential victims before showing them the directions to Ambrose. You’ve had your fair share of disgusting stares and flirting attempts. That you can manage. What you can’t tolerate however is when these assholes find out you’re with Lester and starts making comments about him. He finds it incredibly hot when you get all mouthy and talk back in defense of him.

In turn, he can’t tolerate the unwanted attention on you. That’s when he starts visibly playing with his knife, and that usually does the trick. And even if it doesn’t, he feels better knowing what happens to them after you turn them over to Bo and Vincent. He gets even more touchy after incidents like this, and you’re happy to satiate his neediness with hugs and kisses.

Even though he’s not a killer as much as his brothers and does everything in his power to stay out of it – and to also keep you out of it –, if the situation escalates and you’re in danger, you can bet he’s ready to do whatever he has to do to keep you safe. Even if he doesn’t like it, your safety and wellbeing is always his top priority.

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

PLEAS EPLEASE PLEASEE I NEED THIS MAN I NEED HIM SO BAD GUYSSS MAKE MOREE FANFIC I BEG OF YOU 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two. 

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips. 

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock. 

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself. 

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back. 

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3

PLEASE MORE EUNHYUK SMUT FIC I BEG I NEED MOREE (っ´▽｀)っ

AAAAAAAA URE TAKING REQUEST??? 🥹 one for eunhyeok pls, just a sweet fluff(or an nsfw if ure okay with that) i miss him sm, u can do anything with it i’ll take anything 🤲🏼

i literally am in love with eunhyuk so how about...fluffy smut 😍 thank you for requesting 🫶

— so beautiful

lee eunhyuk (sweet home) x gn!afab!reader

genre: smut

summary: eunhyuk comes home from a rough day at work, knowing he's been distant and not noticing your needs, and all he wants is you

warnings: language, nsfw, praise, soft sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

minors do not interact

the second eunhyuk walked through the door, you heard a long sigh from the walkway entrance. you knew eunyoo was gone doing something, whatever it is she did whenever she was out of the apartment, so thankfully you two had the place to yourself.

"jagiya," eunhyuk called out once he slid his shoes off his feet.

"in the bedroom!" you responded, putting down the book you were reading as you sat on the bed.

eunhyuk walked through the bedroom door and a small smile immediately lit up on his face upon seeing you on the bed. he took his flannel off and tossed it on the ground next to the bed before he crawled into the bed next to you, his arms quickly wrapping around you and putting his face in the crook of your neck.

a short chuckle came from your lips at his actions, one of your hands playing with his hair. "rough day at work?"

"mhm," he hummed, nodding his head slightly.

a comfortable silence filled the room and just when you thought eunhyuk was going to get up, he started to leave little kisses on your neck. they started out light and soft, but soon enough he was biting down on your skin, with your own teeth between your bottom lip as you struggled out words.

"what're you doing?"

eunhyuk pulled away from your neck, looking down at you and seeing the blush on your face made him smile a bit. "i thought maybe we could spend some time together, since eunyoo is gone and we have the place to ourselves," he answered, his hands holding your hips.

"are you sure? what if she comes back?" you questioned worriedly.

"you know when she's gone it's for hours, we'll be fine," eunhyuk replied, his hands starting to trail down to the hem of your shorts. "i know i've been distant lately, and i want to make it up to you."

his words were true, he had been being distant with things seemingly getting worse at his job, but you would never admit you were getting needy because of it. however, it was obvious by how your hips jerked upwards when hyuk's fingers grabbed your shorts and slowly started to pull them down.

eunhyuk noticed, obviously. he was coming home either so late or so early that he would immediately fall asleep as soon as he hit the bed, leaving you to attempt to make yourself feel good, but it wasn't the same. which is why he was so grateful when his boss said he could leave a little early, so he could spend time with you.

he pulled down both your shorts and underwear, then spreading your legs apart with his hands, seeing how wet you were. "all this for me? i've hardly done anything yet," he said almost teasingly.

you were unable to come up with a response, too embarrassed by how aroused you were just by him finally giving you the attention you needed, only to be interrupted by a moan leaving your lips when he started to circle your clit with his thumb.

his other fingers were dragging up and down your slit, collecting your slick on his digits, his eyes peering at you before he inserted a finger suddenly, making you let out a louder moan than the last. your hips bucked upward again, and eunhyuk used his free hand to hold you down, slowly starting to push his finger in and out of you.

"hyuk," you whined, your hands gripping the bedding beneath you.

"mm?" he hummed, looking at you with a teasing smile. he loved watching you unravel before him, he adored the way your face contorted in pleasure every time he made a movement, he could stay here for hours if he could. "you look so pretty like this," he said, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before slipping in another finger and picking up his pace.

you writhed around under him, moans leaving your lips freely and without any care of others possibly hearing through the thin walls of the complex. his hand held you down from your hips bucking upwards, and your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you. "fuck- don't stop, p-please- oh my god."

eunhyuk watched you with a small smirk on his face, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a quick pace, and just when you were about to cum, he pulled his hand away. you let out a loud whine and opened your eyes to look at him, seeing him undo his belt and take off his jeans and boxers in one swift motion and immediately hovering over you again.

he moved some of your hair from your face, kissing your forehead before slowly slipping inside of you. he let out a low groan as he sheathed himself all the way inside, putting his face in your neck again, his warm breath hitting your skin. your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust into you, little whimpers coming from you right into his ear.

"fuck," he sighed into your skin, his hands grabbing your waist in a tight grip. "it's like you were made to take my cock, baby." he began to pick up his pace, leaving crescent moon shapes in your skin from how tight he was holding you.

"hyuk," you moaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut and clawing at his back. you couldn't help the noises coming from you, it just felt too good for you to even think about being quiet.

"so good for me, just for me," eunhyuk mumbled, leaving kisses and bites on your neck. "i love you so much, baby. you're so beautiful taking my cock so well."

you writhed around under him, whining at his words feeling the knot in your stomach building up higher and higher towards release. "do-don't stop, please- fuck! hyuk please please." your nails scratched at his back.

he used his free hand to reach down and start rubbing your clit in quick circles, smiling into your neck at your moans getting louder. "so good, baby. you're doing so good, fuck."

one particular thrust of his hips had your eyes rolling back, your back arching up against him as you tried to speak. "c-close, fuck- hyuk please please."

"cum for me, baby," he told you before kissing you deeply.

moaning into his mouth, your legs shook and convulsed as you came around his cock, your nails digging into his skin. he pulled out of you and immediately laid down beside you.

"you okay?" he asked softly.

you nodded your head as a response, rolling onto your side and cuddling next to him while leaning your head on his chest. he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over the two of you, glancing down at you and kissing your head.

"i love you," he said quietly.

"i love you too," you replied in the same voice.