#but... the schedule... it would be a shame to wreck it this close to the end... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tikitakatia · 2 months ago

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Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"Write to Me and Escape"

WC: 5.5k

Summary: You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you just had to see them even if it wrecked you. But what you find changes everything, and nothing feels the same anymore.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 , Pt.4

The rhythm with go4goald2 fell back into place quicker than you expected.

Alexia had warned you about the media days, press events and tight schedule. You’d nodded to yourself, thanked her for the heads-up, and tried not to be disappointed when she used the words “a few days.” It had taken months for her to remember how to tell you things before they hurt. You gave her credit for that. Quietly. Without saying it out loud.

But now with her occupied and off your screen, off your mind in a way that felt both guilty and relieving, you opened Chattr without hesitation. No wince. No weighing what it meant.

Just you. And them.

The message was already waiting.

[go4goald2]: Okay, important: If your life had a laugh track, what moment would it play the loudest?

You grinned before you even started typing.

[lostinthecrowd]: When I waved back at someone who was waving at the person behind me, then tried to cover it by swatting a fly that didn’t exist.

[go4goald2]: Oh my god, I’m cringing in solidarity.

[lostinthecrowd]: It haunts me weekly. Specifically at 11:47 p.m. when I'm trying to sleep like a normal person.

[go4goald2]: Good, it keeps you humble.

You laughed and felt something in your chest unspool just a little.

[go4goald2]: Okay, but now I need more. What's the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done on purpose?

You didn’t overthink it. You didn’t try to be cool. You just told the truth.

[lostinthecrowd]: I once tried to flirt with a barista by ordering “whatever you think matches my vibe.”

[lostinthecrowd]: They gave me a decaf oat milk lavender latte that tasted like sadness and dirt.

[go4goald2]: Nooo. Did you drink the whole thing??

[lostinthecrowd]: Yep. Smiled through it then tipped five bucks out of pure shame.

There was a pause. Just long enough to notice.

Then:

[go4goald2]: You´re such a dumbass.

[go4goald2]: I love you.

You froze.

Not because you thought they meant it.

Not really.

But because it hit different, even as a joke.

Because the part of you that was still clawing for something real? It wanted to believe it. Even just for a second.

You didn’t reply right away.

[go4goald2]: I´m so sorry. That was too much.

[lostinthecrowd]: No. It wasn’t. I just... didn’t expect it.

A pause. Then:

[go4goald2]: I think about you a lot when I'm not talking to you. When something dumb happens. When I see something and wonder if you’d laugh at it. That's normal, right?

You stared at the screen.

Felt your chest clench in that stupid, hopeful, terrified way.

[lostinthecrowd]: Maybe not normal. But... not bad.

Another beat.

[go4goald2]: Have you ever fallen for someone just by how they see you?

That was… something.

Because yes.

Because that’s exactly what this was starting to feel like.

You typed slower this time.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think I'm scared of how much I want to say yes to that.

You waited.

And waited.

Then finally:

[go4goald2]: I won't ask you to say it. Not if it’s not the time. I just want you to know you’re seen exactly as you are. You don’t have to change anything around me.

You closed your eyes. Let the words settle.

Alexia was trying. She was.

But this?

This felt like being chosen in real time.

And you didn’t know what to do with that yet.

So instead, you reached down, scratched behind Tofu’s ears, and whispered, “You’re not helping, you know.”

He snorted. Rolled over like he disagreed.

Your phone buzzed again.

[go4goald2]: Are you still with me?

You hesitated.

Then, without thinking too hard, you typed:

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, I’m still here.

And god help you, for the first time in a long time, you meant it.

[go4goald2]: If I asked you something kind of dangerous, would you answer?

[lostinthecrowd]: That depends. Are we talking dangerous like “eat expired sushi” or dangerous like “emotional vulnerability at midnight”?

[go4goald2]: The second one, obviously.

[lostinthecrowd]: Then maybe, ask.

[go4goald2]: Do you think some people are meant for us… But not meant to stay?

[lostinthecrowd]: Jesus.

[go4goald2]: Too much?

[lostinthecrowd]: Not too much. Just… accurate.

[go4goald2]: I think about it a lot. How sometimes you meet someone and they wreck you. Not in a bad way. Just… Like they rearrange everything inside you. And then they’re gone. But you’re still left shaped like them.

[lostinthecrowd]: And then you meet someone else, and they touch that same part of you, but gentler.

[go4goald2]: Yeah. Like maybe the first person cracked you open so someone else could find you.

[lostinthecrowd]: I don't know if I believe in fate.

[go4goald2]: Me neither. But I believe in timing, and maybe we don’t always get to choose what hurts.

[lostinthecrowd]: Sometimes I think I was supposed to love her, just not forever.

There was a pause.

Not the bad kind. The kind that means someone is breathing slowly before saying something that might change everything.

[go4goald2]: And now?

You stared at the screen. Tofu shifted against your thigh. You started typing, fingers shaking.

[lostinthecrowd]: Now I'm scared, because I think I'm falling again. and I don't know whose arms I want to land on.

You didn’t get a reply right away.

But the typing bubble flickered.

Flickered.

Then it disappeared.

Then..

Your phone rang.

Not Chattr.

Not go4goald2.

Alexia.

You froze. Let it ring once. Twice. Four times.

Your thumb moved before you could talk yourself out of it.

“...Hey,” you said, your voice paper-thin.

There was a pause. Then:

“Sorry,” she said, exhaling like the air had been punched out of her. “I didn’t mean to call. I mean, I did. I just…”

You waited.

“I’m at the hotel,” she said, too fast. “Patri and Pina were curled up on the couch watching some stupid romcom, and she was laughing so hard she had to hide her face in her hoodie. It made me think of you. Of us. Of how we used to be when everything still felt easy.”

She paused.

“And I just.. God, I missed you so much it hurt. Like physical, actual pain. And I didn’t know what to do with it, so I called.”

You didn’t say anything and allowed the silence to wrap around both of you like fog.

Her voice cracked. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that it’s 1am and I heard your laugh in my head and I realized it’s been months since I heard it for real. And that’s my fault.”

She sniffled. Not trying to hide it. “I spent so long trying to prove I could be everything to everyone. I didn’t realize I was becoming nothing to you.”

You swallowed hard.

“I miss you,” she whispered. “Not just the version of you that laughed with me. The quiet parts too. The hard days. The mornings when you hated everyone but me. I miss you. All of it.”

She laughed, watery. “God, I sound drunk. I’m not. I’m just tired, being a little stupid. And a lot in love, still.”

A beat. Then she said, almost childishly soft,

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to call before I got too scared to.”

She hung up.

No goodbye. Just a breath. Then gone.

You stared at your phone like it had short-circuited your brain.

And then it buzzed.

Chattr.

You opened it.

[go4goald2]: Hey, you okay?

Your fingers moved.

Paused.

Then:

[lostinthecrowd]: She called.. She cried and then said things I didn't know I still needed to hear.

A beat.

Then:

[go4goald2]: And what do you need right now?

You blinked. Let your eyes close. Let the weight of that question settle into your ribs.

And then you typed:

[lostinthecrowd]: I don’t know, but I think I need to find out without disappearing again.

Because that was the truth.

You weren’t running.

But you were on the edge.

And you didn’t want to fall without knowing where you’d land.

For two days, you didn’t text Alexia. You didn’t open Chattr either. The silence just settled in, uninvited but familiar, like it had a key. You moved through the apartment like your skin didn’t fit right, trying not to look at anything too long. Everything in here had her fingerprints on it, some literal, some worse.

Tofu had no such crisis. He charged through your day like he owned it. Like this was his apartment and you were just lucky to live in it. He leapt onto the couch without asking, claimed the sunny spot on the rug like a seasoned diva, and barked loudly when you took too long filling his water bowl. He had no patience for emotional spirals. He had toys to destroy and treats to extort.

And still, somehow, he made your chest ache.

Because she gave him to you.

Just a few weeks ago, the night before she left for international break, she showed up with a bag full of supplies and said, “He’s yours now. I think you need each other.” Like he was a peace offering. Like he was a bridge. Or maybe a way to say I still love you, without the risk of hearing it back.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But she’d remembered the kind of dog you always paused to pet on the street. She picked a leash in your favorite color. She said, “His name’s Tofu,” with a smile so soft it was like an inside joke you hadn’t caught yet. And then she kissed your forehead like she didn’t still live in the ache of your throat.

Now Tofu was sprawled across your lap, toy half-chewed between his paws, utterly unbothered by your entire existential crisis. You ran your fingers through his fur absentmindedly, blinked at the ceiling, tried not to think too hard.

But it was impossible not to think of her when he was like this.

So sure of you. So certain you’d hold him, feed him, love him. No hesitation. No fear.

He trusted you more than you trusted yourself right now.

And God, what did it mean that she’d given you something this soft? This loud? This real?

You missed her. That was the truth. You missed the girl who used to dance in the kitchen while brushing her teeth. The girl who always pulled your hand into her lap when you were anxious, like that was enough to ground you. The girl who said “I love you” like it was a fact, not a performance.

You missed her so much it made your teeth hurt.

But missing someone didn’t erase what they did to you.

Tofu snorted in his sleep and shifted, shoving his back against your stomach like he was trying to merge your atoms. You laughed, quietly and bitterly. Even the dog didn’t believe in personal space.

You were trying so hard not to fall into the same shape you used to hold with her. But everything in this apartment: the blanket, the coffee mugs, this ridiculous little gremlin she gifted you, was a memory dressed like comfort.

And then there was go4goald2.

You hadn’t talked since the night Alexia called. Since everything broke open and left you standing in the middle of the mess, holding pieces of two different people who both made you feel too much.

They hadn’t messaged. Not since that quiet, careful question:

“And what do you need right now?”

You didn’t know if your silence had said too much. Or not enough.

You wanted to miss them. That would’ve been easier. Cleaner. But what you felt instead was worse:

You wanted them. Present-tense. Fully. Still.

Their steadiness. The way they listened without grabbing at your pain. The way they never asked you to perform softness, but you just found yourself being soft anyway.

And maybe it was good that they hadn’t texted. Maybe they sensed the edge you were standing on. Maybe they didn’t want to crowd it.

But God, part of you wanted them to fight for the space they’d carved into your chest.

Just a little.

Not with declarations. Not with pressure.

Just something. Anything. To say:

I’m still here. Even now.

But they didn’t.

By the third day, you still didn’t check your phone.

Not out of resolve, not even out of strength. But just because you didn’t want anything to answer to yet. You got dressed slowly. Took a real shower. Let the hot water hit your neck long enough to make you feel human.

Then you leashed Tofu and left the apartment.

No headphones. No destination. Just a slow walk through streets that didn’t ask anything of you. Tofu trotted like he owned the world, occasionally stopping to sniff something so thoroughly you almost apologized to the sidewalk.

You passed the bakery where Alexia used to make you pick out the pastries because she “couldn’t be trusted around sugar.” The coffee place you found together by accident. The crosswalk she once danced across in the rain.

You didn’t linger.

Not because the memories weren’t still in your chest. But because you finally understood something:

You don’t owe every memory a place in your future.

Tofu barked at a pigeon, almost dislocated your shoulder, then looked up at you like did you see that??

You laughed. Just a little. Just enough to count.

You kept walking.

Past the part of town where the noise softened. Past the old bookstore with the spray-painted sign. Past the bus stop where you used to wait for her, headphones on, heart in your throat.

And at some point, you sat down.

On a bench. Sun on your face. Tofu curled at your feet like a tiny guard.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t spiral.

You just let yourself feel the space in your chest. The one where love used to hurt, but now just… waited.

You didn’t know what you were choosing yet.

But for once, it didn’t feel like something was being chosen for you.

When you finally opened your phone, it buzzed to life with the weight of unread words. First, Alexia. A string of messages you hadn’t seen, each one longer than the last. No guilt, not this time. Just softness. Apologies that sounded real. Updates that sounded like effort. Hope that didn’t demand anything in return. She said she missed you. That she was proud of you. That even if you didn’t say it back, she’d keep trying to be someone worth coming home to.

You read every word. Didn’t respond. Not yet. Your chest was already full.

So you opened Chattr instead.

One message.

[go4goald2]: If we never talk again, I’ll still be glad I got to know this version of you.

You stared at it for a long time. Not because it hurt, but because it didn’t try to make you feel guilty. Just seen.

You blinked. Typed slowly.

[lostinthecrowd]: I missed this. You. I was scared to come back, and I didn’t know if I deserved to.

The reply came fast. Like they’d been waiting.

[go4goald2]: You never had to earn this. Just had to be you.

Something tugged behind your ribs. You let the words linger. You thought about who you were when you talked to them. How safe it felt. How easy. And how terrifying it was to want that ease somewhere real.

Then:

[go4goald2]: You ever feel like... If someone actually saw you, not your texts, not your voice, but you. They’d change their mind?

And after a beat:

[go4goald2]: I’m not as charming out loud. Not as easy to love in real time.

You felt that one like it had hands. Like it gripped the version of you who’d been broken open too many times and still wanted to be seen. It knocked the breath out of you, soft and brutal.

Because Alexia saw the real you, and still drifted.

And here was someone who hadn’t even looked at your face, and already thought they weren’t worth being loved back.

You sat with it. With the ache and the clarity and the ridiculous, inconvenient spark of hope.

Then you typed, slow. Barely breathing.

[lostinthecrowd]: What if I want to see you anyway?

You stared at the screen like it was holding its breath for you.

That message, “What if I want to see you anyway?” felt like too much and not enough, all at once. A confession. A dare. A quiet leap off the edge of something you weren’t sure you’d survive.

No reply came right away.

You waited, chest tight, thumb hovering like you might take it back.

And then, finally:

[go4goald2]: Are you sure?

[go4goald2]: I can tell you where. Or I can come to you. Doesn’t matter how far. I’d show up.

You didn’t know what to do with that. The certainty. The promise. It slid under your ribs and settled there, warm and terrifying.

Your thumbs hovered.

[lostinthecrowd]: Barcelona.

You hit send and stared at it like it might echo back at you.

The typing bubble flickered.

Then:

[go4goald2]: No way! I’m not far from there. Funny how small the world gets when you want to find someone.

[go4goald2]: There’s a park not far from the center. Quiet, not a lot of people this time of day. Benches near the pond. Friday? Afternoon?

Friday.

You glanced at the calendar. That was tomorrow.

Alexia wasn’t due back until Saturday.

You chewed your lip.

Typed:

[lostinthecrowd]: Okay. Friday. 3PM. I’ll be there.

Your stomach flipped.

[go4goald2]: You don’t have to dress up. I just want it to be real.

And god. That hit harder than it should’ve.

You let the words sit for a while. Then replied:

[lostinthecrowd]: I’m nervous. Like… really nervous.

[go4goald2]: Me too. I keep thinking… What if I ruin the version of me you made up in your head?

[lostinthecrowd]: Maybe we’re both scared of being seen.

[go4goald2]: But I still want to be. Even if it’s messy.

That was the one that pulled your chest open again. Not in a loud, devastating way. Just quiet. Steady. Like something soft demanding space.

You smiled. A little.

And then, because the universe couldn’t leave you alone for five seconds, your phone buzzed again.

Different thread.

Different gravity.

Ale: Can we go on a date when I’m back? Just one. No pressure. Just us, somewhere soft. I miss seeing you happy.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

It felt like the floor shifted beneath you. Like the walls of the apartment tilted, just slightly. Everything inside you paused, holding its breath.

Of course. Of course she’d say that now.

When you’d already agreed to meet someone else. When your heart was already being pulled in two directions, and you weren’t sure who was holding it tighter.

You opened the message. Read it again.

“Somewhere soft.”

She remembered.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to throw your phone out the window and pretend none of this ever happened.

Instead, you typed. Slowly. Carefully. Erased it.

Typed again.

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It was honest.

And right now, that felt like the only thing you could give.

You stared at your phone like it had just exposed you. Like it had read your thoughts out loud.

Your fingers hovered. Then curled. Then pulled back entirely.

Because this wasn’t innocent anymore.

This was a plan. A place. A person waiting on the other end of a meet-up that you said yes to.

While your wife started making the effort of trying to mend your marriage.

You pressed the heel of your hand against your chest, like you could quiet the storm happening underneath.

“I’m not a cheater,” you whispered to the quiet. To the dog. To no one.

But god, it didn’t feel like the truth.

Because something in you wanted this.

Not to hurt her. Not to run.

But to be chosen, just once, without the history attached.

You swallowed hard.

And for the first time since this all started, the shame didn’t come from what she did to you.

It came from what you were about to do to her.

That evening, the apartment went quiet in that way that didn’t feel peaceful, just still. Like the world had pressed pause and forgotten to hit play again.

You didn’t cook. Didn’t clean. You couldn’t even remember if you’d eaten.

You sat on the floor instead. Cross-legged in the warm patch of light near the window. The carpet was soft under your fingertips, Tofu a few inches away, belly-up and blissed out like none of this was his problem.

And he was right. None of it was.

You watched the dust float in the air, caught by the last of the sun. Tried to match your breathing to something, anything, but every inhale felt offbeat. Too shallow. Too loud.

It should’ve been simple.

You loved her. You did.

Even when she let you fall apart quietly. Even when you stopped asking her to notice. You still wanted to believe that the good version of her, the one who used to wrap her arms around your grief like it was something she could carry too, that version still existed.

And maybe she did.

Maybe she was coming back.

But then there was them. The stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. The one who never saw how you looked like, never watched you shut down in real time, but somehow knew exactly where to speak light into your dark.

And that scared the hell out of you.

Because it felt safe. Because it felt new. Because it felt like something you didn’t have to work so hard to keep.

Your gaze landed on the edge of the couch where Alexia’s blanket was still folded. You hadn’t washed it. Part of you wanted to. Scrub it clean of her. Make it smell like detergent instead of memory.

But you didn’t.

Because the truth was: you still curled up in it on the nights that felt heavier than they should.

You leaned your head back against the couch and let your eyes close.

Am I the bad guy now?

You didn’t say it out loud. Just let it echo.

Because wasn’t that the worst part? That you didn’t even know who you were rooting for anymore?

Yourself?

Your marriage?

Your undoing?

Tofu let out a dramatic little huff and pressed his nose to your ankle, like he could sense the unraveling.

You reached for him without thinking, hand sliding across his soft side, grounding yourself in the simple fact of his presence.

“She gave you to me,” you whispered. “And now I don’t know what to do with any of it.”

He didn’t answer. Just blinked at you with that dumb, unconditional loyalty you were starting to envy.

You picked up your phone.

Didn’t open it.

Didn’t scroll.

Just held it. Like a secret. Like a lit match you were scared to put down or use.

What if seeing them changes everything?

What if it ruins the version of yourself that’s still trying to believe you can fix this?

What if it makes you want something you can’t explain?

The idea of going back to who you were before felt impossible. But going forward, without knowing who would be standing next to you?

That felt just as dangerous.

The sky outside bled into lavender. The room got colder. You didn’t move.

Not yet.

Just sat there in the quiet, heart in your throat, phone in your lap, dog at your feet.

You must’ve dozed off at some point.

When your eyes blinked open, the light had shifted again. Warmer. Golden. The kind that made everything look softer than it really was.

Your head was tilted against the couch, your hand still curled around Tofu’s back, and your phone… still sitting untouched.

But the moment you closed your eyes again, you weren’t in the apartment anymore.

You were in a kayak. Red. Wobbly. Drifting down a lazy river somewhere in northern Catalonia, back when the heat clung to your skin and love felt like it could conquer everything. Alexia was behind you, her paddle mostly useless, feet kicked up like this was a goddamn vacation and not a couple activity. Her hair was stuffed into a crooked braid, her shoulders already pink from the sun she swore "wasn't that strong."

"You’re gonna burn," you told her without looking back.

"Impossible," she said. "I’m invincible. Also I have olive skin, remember?"

You rolled your eyes. "Sunscreen doesn't care about your bloodline, babe."

She laughed. Loud. Carefree. The kind of laugh that made your chest crack open a little wider every time.

Later that night, she lay face-down on your bed, moaning into the pillow like a dying Victorian orphan.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," you said, smirking as you dabbed aloe on the back of her neck.

She groaned. "I regret everything except loving you."

You paused. Only for a second.

Because she said it like it was a joke. But it didn’t land like one.

And in that moment, her skin hot, her hair a mess, her voice low and unguarded, you knew. Not the lightning-bolt kind of knowing. Just soft. Obvious. Like looking down and realizing your hands were already full.

You loved her.

Not the polished version. Not the public one.

You loved this Alexia. Burnt and bratty and too proud to admit it.

The memory hit hard now.

Your eyes opened, throat tight, guilt curling low in your stomach.

Because you hadn’t stopped loving her. Not really. Not even through the worst of it. The silence. The distance. The ache of not being chosen.

She was trying again.

And a part of you still wanted to believe in the version of her who once said I regret everything except loving you.

But then there was go4goald2.

Someone who didn’t carry your history like a weight. Someone who made you feel seen in real-time, even if they didn’t know what your voice sounded like out loud.

You sat up slowly, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and looked at your phone.

You still wanted to meet them.

Maybe not to fall in love. Maybe not to escape.

But to say thank you.

For holding space when you couldn’t hold yourself. For reminding you what it felt like to laugh without fear. For showing you that there was still a version of you left worth loving.

You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow.

But you knew one thing, at least.

You weren’t choosing between love and loneliness anymore.

You were choosing between two kinds of hope.

You woke up before your alarm.

Didn’t check your phone. Didn’t need to. Today was already sitting in your chest like static, too loud, too charged, too much. You made coffee with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. Brushed your teeth twice. Put on a playlist and turned it off before the first chorus.

Tofu stayed close, like he could sense the storm under your skin. He followed you from room to room, tail wagging, expression confused. You kept petting him like that would settle something. Like you could tether yourself to the day through his fur alone.

You showered. Washed your hair. Put on your favorite jeans, the ones Alexia used to tease you about for being “aggressively soft”, then changed into different ones. Stood in front of your closet like maybe it would whisper instructions. Settled on something neutral. Safe.

Breakfast was two bites of toast and a glass of water you forgot to finish.

You didn’t let yourself think about what the meeting would feel like. You just kept your head down. Focused on the little things. Zipping the jacket. Filling Tofu’s travel bowl. Making sure your phone was charged. Reapplying lip balm for the third time, like it might protect you from whatever this was turning into.

You clipped on Tofu’s leash. Reached for the doorknob. Exhaled.

Then you heard it.

The key.

Turning in the lock.

You froze, heart jamming sideways in your chest.

The door opened slowly, hesitant, like the person on the other side didn’t know if they were still welcome.

And then you saw her.

Alexia.

But not composed, camera-ready Alexia. Not the confident girl you used to trail behind like sunlight. This version looked destroyed. Her hair was half-tied, frizzed at the edges, cheeks blotchy from dried tears. There were shadows under her eyes that hadn't been there before. Her hoodie was stained, clinging to her shoulders like it couldn’t decide whether to hang on or fall off. The duffel on her back was lopsided. Her laces were untied. And she was breathing like she’d run every step from the airport to your door.

You blinked. You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating.

“You’re back early.”

She didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything soft. Just stood there, swaying slightly.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, like it physically hurt to speak.

Your hand clenched tighter around Tofu’s leash.

She looked down. Saw the bag. The keys. The phone still lit in your other hand, half a sentence still unsent.

You didn’t mean to say it. But it slipped out, sharp and trembling.

“I’m meeting someone.”

She blinked. Like it stunned her. Like she hadn’t let herself believe it was real until now.

“You don’t have to go.”

You stared at her. “You don’t even know who it is.”

“I think I do.”

You stepped back. Confused. “What?”

Alexia reached into her hoodie, pulled out her phone with shaking hands, tapped something. Then she stopped and looked at you, not as a wife. Not as a lover. As something closer to a stranger asking for a chance.

Your phone buzzed.

Chattr.

One new message.

[go4goald2]: Just say the word. I’ll be there.

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t look up right away. Couldn’t.

You stared at the message, willing it to be a joke, a glitch, anything but what it was.

Then you looked at her.

And the look on her face told you everything.

“It’s you,” you breathed. Not a question, but a realization clawing its way out of your throat.

Alexia didn’t nod. Didn’t move. She just stood there like her bones couldn’t take the weight of it either.

“It’s always been me,” she whispered.

And then everything inside you, every cell, every thread, recoiled.

“No.” You backed up further, voice rising. “No, that’s not.. It can’t be.”

“I didn’t lie,” she said quickly. “I just didn’t say”

“Didn’t say?” you cut in, a half-laugh cracking out of your throat.

“You tricked me, Alexia. You let me think someone else cared about me.”

“I did care about you,” she said, voice breaking. “Every word was real. I didn’t know how else to talk to you without hurting you again.”

“So you catfished your wife?”

She flinched. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it?” You threw your arms up. “What?! some twisted experiment? You wanted to see if I’d fall in love with you blindfolded?”

“No!” She stepped forward, and for once, she looked scared. “I just... I missed your voice. I missed being someone you trusted. And I knew if I showed up as me, you’d never let me in.”

“You’re right,” you said, and your voice was colder than you’d ever heard it. “Because I trusted you. And you used it.”

She was crying now, full-body crying, not bothering to hide it. “I thought maybe if I gave you space to choose me without the pain, we could start over.”

“But you didn’t give me space,” you said. “You gave me a lie.”

The words hit her like a blow. Her knees almost buckled under the weight of them.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“And yet,” you snapped, “here we are.”

You looked down at Tofu, who was watching both of you with ears pinned back, tail thumping slow and uncertain.

Your throat was tight. Like grief trying to turn into fire.

“I opened up to you,” you whispered. “Whoever you were. I told you things I never got to say to you. And you just... stood there. Letting me think I’d found someone new.”

“I was someone new,” she said, barely audible. “Someone trying. Someone who never stopped loving you.”

You shook your head. Everything inside you was loud now. Blistering.

“I don’t know what the hell I feel right now,” you said, and you meant it. “But I know I can’t feel it here.”

You crouched down, unclipped the leash.

“Tofu, stay,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

He whined, tail sweeping the floor once before going still.

You straightened and looked at Alexia. Not angry, not bitter, just… Tired. Worn through at the edges.

“I’m leaving you,” you said, steady now. “But not alone.”

She blinked. Confused.

You gestured toward the dog, your throat thick. “Because I don’t ever want anyone to feel the way you made me feel.”

You walked to the door, opened it, and left.

Not because you stopped caring.

But because for the first time in months, you needed her to feel what it meant to be left standing in the wreckage alone.

Tofu stayed by the door.

Still. Watching.

Like even he understood that this type of forgiveness doesn’t come with words.

It has to be earned. Step by brutal step.

Pt. 6

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naturallyadventured · 1 year ago

Text

wandering_claud

I canceled my breast augmentation surgery 4 years ago…

It feels surreal to write that, because over half of my friends don’t even know that I had a surgery scheduled. That I flew to Ontario to consult with my Doctor. That I choose my size and type of implants. That I had put my non refundable deposit down to hold my date. That I financed a bank loan to pay for a $20,000 surgery…

I feel a lot of shame for speaking publicly about this because it exemplifies a time in my life where I -personally- was unhappy with my body. Where I had very little love for myself.

I talk a lot on this page about being comfortable naked and deeply loving my body, and I think it’s important to note that I didn’t always have this relationship with myself…

Growing up during a time where movies and TV shows always showed the “hot girl” having a large chest severely skewed my idea of beauty. As I moved through high school and university, I was even more reminded of how small my boobs where as close friends (men and women alike) would call my boobs “mosquito bites”. Fast track to 2018 where my self esteem was at an all time low as my romantic relationship started to crumble, I turned to breast implants in hopes that it would increase my self worth…

It took my romantic relationship ending before my surgery date for me to realize that before I made any changes to my body… I should learn to love it fully and deeply for the way it naturally was…

So I canceled my surgery.

That realization in 2018 sprang me into working on loving myself. I stoped wearing push up bras (I stopped wearing bras all together really since I don’t actually need support), I stoped hiding my chest when I changed with gfs, I stopped giving myself negative narratives around my body.

I started wearing tight tops that showed the true shape of my breast, I started tanning topless alone and then at wreck beach amongst strangers, I started taking photos in the alpine in bathing suits, I started doing nude shoots in studio and nature.

I’m by no means at the end of my journey. I’m at peace though with knowing the journey of self love is a constant one. Especially as bodies change and age.

📸 @tyholtanphoto

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asherlockstudy · 10 months ago

Note

I had some thoughts about the things you discussed in your amazing, as always, analysis of the first Wonderhole episode. Firstly about the interpretation of "We like closing one eye, because it immerses us in something that's not really happening". I think it refers to both of the things you've said, i.e., when we close one eye we see something different from when both eyes are open, and it might refer to the entirety of the episode, or even their whole intention with the Wonderhole series. So if you look at it with both eyes open and take it at face value, it's a creative surrealist comedy skit with clever, unexpected and often profound plot twists, but if you close one eye and immerse yourself to the experience, it's something else as well. And that something else I think it's your One Story hypothesis, their other life with each other that we don't really see, except in these moments.

A second thought was about the part of the video where they discovered the peanut butter, and they are dancing on beach, oblivious to the passing plane, and missing their chance of a rescue. This scene happens to the beat of "sharing peanut butter because we are peanut butter lovers", and at first it seems like the comical tragedy of two simpletons being so excited about a jar of peanut butter that they missed their ticket out of there. But then if you see it under the lens of the island segment being their post coming out lives, it could mean that once they discovered the peanut butter (as in, how to be intimate with each other), they are so happy that they don't really care about any chances of returning to their previous lives, or even being 'uncancelled' (if that's indeed what caused the isolation after the coming out). And if that was their intention with that scene, I think it was really cute and speaks volumes about their steadfast devotion to each other.

The final thought was about the sex bush. I think part of it was that they like playing with the audiences' expectations (or apprehensions, depending on the viewer) about their personal relationship. The lyric "lovers as in we are loving peanut butter, not that we are making love with one another" gave me a flashback to their song in the 'We spent a day in 1984' video that went "I won't tell you I love 'cause that might make it weird", because both lyrics have that disclaimer element, like an insurance policy or plausible deniability, so that if a viewer sees it one way, great, but if another viewer sees it a different way, great again, they are both right and valid. Schrodinger's gays :D Another part of it goes to some darker places. And fair warning that it might not be a pleasant read, so stop here, if you like.

It has to do with an inkling I have about them actually being still extremely repressed, and all this is just a way for them to express what they want from each other, without actually having to go all the way there (with all the problems that would follow as well about identity crisis, infidelity, home wrecking, public cancelling, and so on). They grew up repressed about sexuality and intimacy. There was a lot of shame and built up about it, as well as a ritualistic aspect (like their dorm schedule). The way they talk about sex to this day sounds sometimes juvenile, like how teenagers talk about it. I can easily imagine the concept of being gay, let alone gay sex, being difficult for them to come to grips with. And sometimes they give me the impression of people who come up with weird rituals around the thing they are tiptoeing, so that they can justify it to themselves. What if they haven't gone there, like we think, and they are making content that allows them to go there, like in a simulation. They can experiment before the real deal. Because a sex bush, like you said, is indeed like a circle jerk thing, which in turn, is a way of being intimate with someone without actually being intimate. It would be very much like them to try an find a loop-hole so that they could both have their cake and eat it, i.e. being faithful straight family men, but tasting the forbidden fruit, so to speak, as well. I said it was dark, and I wouldn't bet on this scenario if I had to guess what's really going on, but sometimes the things they say or do, make me think there might still be some disfunctional thinking about male physical intimacy.

Anyway, sorry about the massive ask, and if you made it to the end thanks again for your wonderful analysis! :)

First of all, thank you so much for your beautiful words! I am glad you enjoyed the first Wonderhole analysis :)))

RE: The eye immersion

There are truly so many different ways to interpret this comment but whichever is the case, the conclusion is the same: the perception of one image is different when you observe it with one versus both eyes open. I have to say, I found it very funny that in the end they gently imply they want to cut out our cataracts though (clear our blurred vision) XD

RE: The plane passing by

grfuehfiehargh I wanted to write this but I wrote so much I forgot about it! It's exactly that, at this point they are so invested to this new state of life with each other, they do not care to go back to their previous lives or back to "safety".

RE: Sex bush and the lyric

That's an interesting take, totally compatible with the One Story. The lyric is indeed a flashback to the 1984 video and instead of it being something we need to interpret in a certain way, maybe it is just a commentary on their insurance policy / plausible deniability, like you said and like it was the case with the 1984 video. I think this really works.

RE: The dark thought

I don't shy away from unpleasant thoughts and I agree a lot with your theory. They do still look and act repressed and in my opinion they still look like they are coming to terms with queer people, what it means to be gay, no matter how cool they act, how many queer employees they have and how many Pride t-shirts they sell. I consider this human, childhood and puberty teachings are the hardest to get rid of and you almost never get 100% rid of them. A tiny voice will always remain in the back of your mind. It's how the human brain works. It is evident in how much Rhett still tries to find answers in religion, it seems like he tries to find ways to reconcile his old beliefs with who he is, despite in the meantime professing himself as "definitely not a Christian". I dare say he spends too much time examining new, alternative doctrine interpetations compared to the average atheist / irreligious person. And I think this is totally okay by the way. He has every right to try to find the answers he seeks for. But like I said in the meantime they are not entirely mentally free. Look how much the concept of hell creeps in their conversations, even as a joke. There is a box inside their mind where they have squeezed all their guilt and the concern and the inhibitions and that box bursts from time to time, if not frequently. However, I don't think this means they haven't acted on anything yet because of these negative emotions. Both in the scripted content and in certain interactions it is evident that this is a point of state long gone. Whatever physical intimacy they were meant to reach, it has already happened. This somehow makes me the heretic of Rhinkdom but by using the same reasoning I used for example in the Wonderhole analysis to draw conclusions, I land on the same conclusion again and again. Whatever was to happen has happened long ago. This does not mean the repression and the fear cannot be explained - in fact this is how they are explained even better, because when things are done and cannot be undone, this is how they double down on the guilt and the fear of disastrous repercussions and the constant anxiety of "but what if we are wrong"?

Besides, it is also not realistic. We see parallels and metaphors for the first chaotic intercourse in the Puzzle, shot in mid to late 2015. And Rhett is the guy you can absolutely not rile up in 2014-2015 and expect that by 2024 he is still "examining" the idea and channeling it through his art, with the flag at hand for 10 years now. It's just not how the vast majority of men, heck, humans function, let alone Rhett who has established himself as a very sexual person and it is indeed the case. Like imagine all those deep, private conversations about their feelings and their repressed guilty desires that are apparently happening ever since they left the faith. Are we to believe that Rhett could have ever managed to make it through them unscathed? Even Link would not be able to do this!

#rhink #wonderhole #first class flight #rhett and link #curiousser #mail #theory #discussion

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nikatyler · 10 months ago

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Zeph 1.0

Almost there…yes I closed the game so I could get the 69 hours played screenshot…almost got it! 😅

I'm such a stupid 13yo at heart

(x)

did i mention i love him

(x)

Oof besties I think it's Moonrise time

Moonrise time over because ya girl is going to work tomorrow and it's getting late 🥲 but I so didn't want to quit the game today ugh

(x)

Need to incorporate "let's not do anything hilarious" into my vocabulary because it's the biggest realest mood

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no way he approved lmao

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oh... OH

(x)

forevermore? as in you and me forevermore? don't read the last page but i stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes omg a taylor swift reference!! 🤭🤭

(x)

Zeph is looking so good in their new armor ��

(x)

Oh I'm gonna be reloading this fight a million times huh

(x)

THIS WAS SO INTENSE WTF

Dude never thought I'd say this but Shadowheart carried this battle. I'm going to bed in game and irl because two intense battles back to back are too much for my anxiety 😭

This game is gonna wreck me isn't it

(x)

So in the battle I had yesterday, Jaheira was killed, but I thought, well, it would be a shame to leave her stuff behind and she doesn't need it anymore, might as well take it…now I loaded the game again and notice she's there in just her underwear 😭 I'm sorry 😭😭

Yes I loot everyone and everything shamelessly, I learned from the best 🤭

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hole hehe

hole not hehe this is disgusting jfc

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"I could fix him" "I could make him worse" well I personally hope that *he* will make *me* worse

(x)

We're not gonna talk about this party kill Nailed it! Took me three tries though 😂

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THIS GODDAMN PUZZLE I SWEAR TO GOD

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Big brain time

The f u c k?

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well i may have a few ideas how to use this one 🫢

(x)

Well. I think I'll be starting act 3 tomorrow? 😬

(I'm excited but also nervous. Oh man this is exactly why I've never played this kind of games before 😂)

(x)

I think I fucked up…I was going to do the crèche and the mountain pass stuff later but I can't anymore, I completely skipped it 😭 without too many spoilers, are there going to be bad consequences maybe?

I could pull up an older save but I've done so many other things already…I'm not sure if I want to replay them at the moment 🥲 Think I might just have to leave it for my second playthrough but it sucks that I completely skipped such a big part

And I know at some point it told me some things wouldn't be available if I continue but I didn't think it would be this 😭 I need clearer instructions y'all, I'm a dummy

This is ridiculous but I'm about to cry bc I missed such a huge part, I think I might go back to an older save and just redo everything idk 🥲 idk what to do 😭 overthinking this too much

(x)

"magnificent bastard" is a wonderful gender tbh

(x)

dude i'm not some fucking pokémon 💀

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oh god i love him 💀 is he wrong though?

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she's serving too much cnt to handle i'm afraid

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A fellow clown hater! 🤩

(x)

ohhh i was looking forward to this line 😂

omg Zeph really went "so aren't you worried about that old master of yours? yeah? anyway wanna smash tonight?"

KJLFGKSJFGKLJL BRO??????? the fuck did i do to you

hello ?????????? ????? ??????? ???????? ??????? no genuinely i don't know what i did/did not do 💀 idgaf I'm handing his ass to Cazador

me and Zeph both rn

(x)

delivery not guaranteed? that's so Česká pošta coded

(x)

bears in the closet you say? what was halsin doing in your closet? 🫢

(x)

not me actually accidentally making Zeph jump off of a very tall something

and right after the second short rest and the idiot took so much damage 💀

(x)

Oh we're playing Among Us now, how fun!

(x)

I fear this will be another full night of playing...not a good idea considering we're going on a family trip tomorrow but eh whatever

(x)

We did it again besties, let's hope I'll get my sleep schedule back on track before I return to work 😂

But it was definitely worth it, I had so much fun playing today. Aside from essentially being dumped but I'm gonna clown and hope all will be well (no spoilers pls)…I promise I will be normal and not actually irl cry about it 🫢😂

Gotta love that rejection hypersensitivity that kicks in no matter what 🤩 real person, fictional, who cares, it hurts 🤩 (no really I'm okay, I'm exaggerating, you know me)

(x)

Next time I go "hehehe I won't sleep tonight, it's gaming time", stop me please. I'm not built for this

And daylight savings are kicking in today? fk me rip my sleep schedule

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hehe god i wish

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oop

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I'm getting overwhelmed with all the quests jfc 😭 can we just skip to the part where I romance the vampire again

I also (and this is me overthinking again) can't help but feel like I'm playing the game wrong and that I'm ruining everything as I go and we will not reach a nice ending 💀

(x)

WHY IS HE NOT WEARING MUCH KDAFJLAJKDFLKJ WHAT'S GOING ON I HATE THIS

What the actual f u c k was that

(x)

#zeph 1.0

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omg-imatotalmess · 4 years ago

Text

Speed Demon

Hey guys! So, our new anon, Peach anon, sent me an absolutely god-tier idea, and I got a little out of control thinking about it. Thank them for this messy little thing. Hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested: No but based on an ask

The ask: hi i found ur blog recently and i LOVE your work and wanted to shower u with love and affection <3 <3 <3 and maybe also... a headcanon?? anyways roadtrip with boys are so fun to imagine like i have this hc that draco is such a nervous wreck in cars and it translates into passenger driver ("careful, careful!! that semi is switching lanes!" "draco i am sIX CARS BEhiND IT") nfdjhgjs anyways imagine getting so fed up you just reach over (1/2 peach anon claiming peach right now its MINE :D )

(2/2) and start palming at his cock switching btwn just resting ur hand on him and making him try to fuck up into you fist he'd be grabbing the little handle above the door and finally shut up literally the second after you let him come though it's like four seconds of happy peaceful silence and then its "love, steady, you're speeding a bit" anyways ty for doing all that you do ilysm :)

Warnings: Smut, hand jobs, don't jerk someone off while you drive, mild cum eating, sub!draco, dom!reader, swearing(?)

---

The muted drone of the weatherman on the radio filled the near silence of the car. Draco didn't ever talk much when you drove. For a man that enjoyed taking road trips as much as he claimed to, he certainly didn't like being in the car. You didn't mind much, though. You were just happy to spend the time alone with him. Even if the only time he broke the silence was to yell about your driving, which, to be fair, was often enough.

"Slow down! Why are you so insistent upon getting us killed?" Draco snapped, digging his fingernails into the seat.

"Draco, my love, my sweet, I'm already going under the speed limit. Try to relax a little," you said. The huff from your passenger seat reminded you why everyone had insisted that you and Draco take your own car. No one else could put up with him. Especially not with the kind of amusement you could.

"I'll relax when you stop trying to kill us," he said. But, then again, even you had your limits.

"Do you want some help, love?" you asked.

"Help? What do you mean help?" Without looking at him, you lifted your hand from the wheel, resting it lightly on his thigh. You gave it a firm squeeze. Though he didn't say anything, you found yourself enjoying watching him squirm in your peripheral vision.

"You know, help," you said cheerfully.

"You're driving," he hissed.

"You don't seem to mind much," you teased, laying your hand over his slowly hardening cock.

"Watch the road!" he snapped as a truck switched lanes several cars ahead of you. Despite his command, he bucked his hips up, grinding into your palm with no shame. You smiled. Draco could be so stubborn when he wanted to be. No matter how badly he wanted this, he'd probably just keep complaining about your driving until he couldn't anymore.

"I am," you said.

"What if you-ah-get distracted?" he asked.

"I'm just letting you use my hand. Keep it down and you won't bother me," you laughed.

"But what if--oh," he cut himself off with a groan as you popped the button of his pants and snaked your hand underneath.

"Shhh, just enjoy yourself, baby boy," you soothed, grinding the heel of your hand gently against the head of his cock. The whiny moan that reverberated throughout the car made you strain to keep your eyes on the road. You would have loved to see the face he was making just then, but you told him you wouldn't get distracted. Instead, you settled for rubbing him teasingly just to make him squirm.

"(Y/N)," he groaned.

"Hmm?" you hummed.

"Please."

"Please, what? Tell me what you want," you said, glancing over your shoulder as you switched lanes.

"I want more," he muttered.

"I thought you wanted me to concentrate on the road," you teased. With a groan of frustration, he rolled his hips into your barely moving hand.

"(Y/N), take pity on me. I'm already in this screaming death trap," he whined. You laughed, giving him a rough squeeze through his underwear. A choked groan told you all you needed to know. All he wanted was attention. That was likely why he'd been complaining so much in the first place.

"Alright, alright. Take your cock out for me then, baby," you said.

After a second of shuffling, you felt him push himself into your waiting hand. It never took much to work him up, and you were grateful for it. You loved seeing him hot and leaking for you pretty much as soon as you started playing with him. Swiping your thumb over the slit, you smiled as the wetness there smeared with your touch. He bucked impatiently at the soft attention. It wasn't what he wanted. Pulling your hand away for a second, you spat into it before beginning to jack him at a torturous pace. It wasn't a substitute for lube, but Draco didn't seem to mind any.

A quick glance at your passenger told you that he was just enjoying the sensation. He could have been anywhere for all he seemed to care. It was almost like he'd forgotten about the car entirely. One pale hand gripped the seat under him while the other grabbed the handle over his head to steady him as he thrust into your hand. Like a man unhinged, he drove up into the tight circle of your fist practically unassisted. You doubt he really minded the lack of real lube.

"That's a good boy," you praised, switching back into the other lane. "I bet you feel so much better now that you have something to keep you busy."

"Yes! So much better!" he moaned.

"I know being my good boy always helps you relax," you said. The car in front of you swerved and cut off the guy in the other lane, who blared his horn. You slowed slightly, glaring at them.

"Always! Love being your good boy." Draco's voice was so earnest and sweet, all pitched up like that.

"And you are such a good boy, Draco," you said.

Little punched-out noises rippled through the car, overpowering the drone of the radio station you'd been listening to earlier. Honestly, you preferred them. Any sweet, pathetic little sound Draco made was infinitely more interesting than any news guy on the radio. Hips pounding into your hand, Draco tipped his head back against the headrest with the most desperate wine you'd heard in a while. You shivered, cutting your eyes away from the road to steal a glance at him in all his strung-out, desperate beauty.

And you weren't disappointed. His usually pale skin was flushed a bright pink, eyes lidded and more focused on you than anything else, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth in an unsuccessful attempt to quiet himself. A real thing of beauty. Your sweet, pretty boy Draco. Twisting your hand over the head of his cock, you relished in that fact for a moment.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'd be half tempted to pull over and fuck you properly in the back seat," you said.

"Please," Draco begged breathily, slamming his hips up erratically.

"Don't tempt me, baby boy. We're on a schedule," you said. Though, it really was a charming idea.

"(Y/N), please. I don't care about being late. Want you to fuck me," he whined.

"You say that now," you laughed.

"Please, I'll be so good," he whined.

"If you can cum from my hand now, Draco, I'll keep you so well fucked on a this trip you won't remember anything but me," you said, an alluring promise coloring your voice.

"Yes, yes! Want that! Wanna cum for you so much," he babbled. Arching his back against the seat, he drove his cock into your hand with renewed desperation.

"Are you close? You wanna a good boy and cum for me?" you purred. The car in front of you stopped short, but Draco didn't even seem to notice that you'd jerked to a stop. He just gripped the handle above him and whined for you.

"Wanna be a good boy. Please, I wanna cum," he cried. Looking over, you noticed the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. You smiled gently at him.

"Oh, Dray, you've been so good," you said. His mouth dropped open into a soft cry as his hips completely lost rhythm. "Go ahead, baby boy. Cum for me."

Draco's hips stuttered, once, twice, and by the third time, he was cumming all over your hand. His eyes screwed shut, and a pitchy cry of your name left his lips as he shook in your grasp. And you just worked him through it. Pumping him gently while he whimpered through the aftershocks. You didn't stop until his thighs shook so hard you could feel the car move. Then, finally, you pulled your hand away and lifted it to his mouth.

"Clean up your mess, baby boy," you said.

"Yes, (Y/N)," he said tiredly, sticking his tongue out. Pressing your fingers against it, you let him lick your hand clean of his own cum until you were satisfied. You two had started moving again by the time he finally came around enough to really talk to you.

"How do you feel, Dray?" you asked. He gave you a sleepy smile.

"Like you need to slow down. You're speeding," he said.

"I'm not speeding," you said. You were, in fact, speeding a little.

"Don't think that just because I just had the best orgasm of my life that I don't remember you drive like a demon," he said. Shaking your head, you laughed in disbelief.

"Only you could complain after having the best orgasm of your life," you sighed.

"I thought you loved that about me," he said. "You're still speeding."

"Maybe I should have pulled over," you said, rolling your eyes. Well, it had been nice while it lasted. And Draco was right. Kinda. You did love him, even if you wouldn't exactly say you loved his complaining.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy #sub!draco #dom!reader #draco malfoy x reader imagine #draco malfoy x reader oneshot #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x reader smut #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #hp

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soupri · 2 years ago

Text

⤷𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮❣

➸ featuring kamisato ayato

➸ cw: fluff to angst with no comfort; improper letter format; improper grammar; genshin spoilers if you’re not at inazuma yet; light humor; mentions of marriage and divorce; slight possessiveness (not in a yandere way); gender neutral; death; made-up dates bc genshin doesn’t give dates; slightly incorrect lore; lmk if i missed anything!

➸ pre-note: day three of my [letters for you] event! ngl this one was supposed to be just fluff. i guess i mistyped a few words (don’t come for me please)

“my lord! there’s a letter for you from [name]”

looking up from his desk, thoma didn’t fail to see ayato’s eyes light up. taking the letter and opening it, ayato asked, “their time in liyue is almost up, is it not?”

“indeed, they’re scheduled to arrive within the next three days if there was no delay.“

a soft smile spread across ayato’s face.

“you may go, and let ayaka know i’ll be joining you guys for dinner.“

“of course, my lord.“

october 5, 5:23 pm

dear kamisato ayato,

have you averted your eyes from the parchment after seeing all my improperness? don’t roll your eyes at me darling, that’s my job. have you been doing well lately? by the time you receive this letter, i should be on my way home. it’s been a lonely year without you, but i’ve enjoyed my stay in liyue. the port city is busy day and night, and the food is just as delicious as rumors say. i’ve sent some recipes with this letter for you to enjoy.

i met lady ningguang during my stay. she’s quite beautiful if i do say so myself. shame that i’m already engaged to you. if you weren’t in inazuma, i would’ve filed a divorce the moment i saw her. net only is she beautiful, she’s also intelligent. those who work directly for are are nothing short of brilliant. i’ve already invited her to our wedding. i figured you wouldn’t mind, given how you can’t say no to me.

liyue aside, have you been taking care of yourself? listen to thoma and rest now and then. i can’t have my fiance collapsing before our wedding can i? if you must pass on early, at least make it after i become kamisato [name]. then all the clan assets will go to me.

you better have rejected any marriage proposals while i’ve been gone. for the shogun’s sake, do they really not remember you’re mine? seems i’m gonna have to remind them what’s mine stays mine. look at you, probably smiling at my possessiveness. don’t act like you aren’t just as crazy for me dear.

i’ve heard rumors the shogun has started setting restrictions in her plan to pursue eternity. keep yourself safe alright? i’ll see you soon darling. love you!

yumeno [name]

“i’ll write to you so be sure to write back! take care darling.“

“only if you promise to do the same.“

placing a kiss on his mole then lips, you turn to board the ship.

turning back one last time, you call out “i love you ayato!”

“i love you too [name].“

who would’ve guessed that was the last time he’d see your face? his last time hearing you say i love you, feeling your gentle touch and warm lips against his?

october 7th, the almighty shogun raised her blade to the sky, declaring the commencement of the vision hunt decree. storm clouds met all those who tried to flee from ships, wrecking everything on the open waters. not a single ship that left survived. to the horror of the people, they realized that nothing would help them escape. and no one was allowed to enter.

in his study, kamisato ayato slowly came to realize that no ships would survive such storms created by the archon. reality hit, and he could only cry silently in pain, knowing his fiance would never make it back alive.

[prev] ♥ [letters for you] ♥ [next]

eri’s notes!

feels like i wasn’t clear on the last part sdkjfn reader’s ship was close to inazuma so it was caught in the storm and didn’t survive :( hah look at me being sad when i could’ve completely avoided that and let everything run smoothly

#kamisato ayato #ayato #genshin impact #genshin #angst #slight typos lead to this being angst oops

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yuta-senpai · 4 years ago

Text

Full Moon | Kun

- Genre: Smut. Werewolf Kun/Human Reader

- Warnings: Breeding, marking, possessive, oral (female receiving), and accidental mating.

- Word Count: 1.7k

You looked out the window and eyed the full moon. You knew it was going to be a full moon, you had to know the moon schedule, it was important in your life. Yes, the moon is important to many people for various reasons but for you, it had to do with your partner.

Kun was different from everybody else, he has a secret. It’s one the fans could never know about, and one that many idols have. The kpop idol world is full of supernatural beings. SM predominantly worked with werewolves, JYP fairies, Bighit vampires, and for other companies it varied. This meant the members of NCT didn’t perform on full moons, as they had no control, the wolves took over. It was scary to think about the fact that all these people are basically worshipping supernatural entities, that would happily kill them if given the chance. They took suppressants and went through courses to learn how to keep their instincts under control, but sometimes they couldn't control it. Accidents had happened and it was the company's job to cover it. When you started dating Kun you found out on accident, he got worked up, and his canines had grown and hair grew on his hands. It was shocking at first, but you accepted him for who he was and now helped take care of him.

On days of full moons, they were chained up since they would lose control.

This was the only way to keep people safe.

You were ripped from your thoughts when you heard a low growl behind you and you turned around to see glowing hazel eyes. Your eyes widened, he had gotten out of the restraints.

His voice was deeper, you could hear a slight growl.

You stepped towards him cautiously. “Kun, why are you out of the restraints?”

He sniffed the air, “Woman, I can smell you are in heat.”

“Kun you know I am human and don’t go into heat.”

He sniffed again, “I’m not Kun right now, you know that. You are ready for pups. I smell it, don’t lie.” He growled and stepped forward.

“No Kun, it’s the wolf talking.”

“Don’t lie, I know you are ready to be bred. I’m gonna breed you.”

Your breathing quickened, and you looked around trying to figure out what to do.

“Kun wants this too. He has been wanting to pump you full of pups for months. But he is a pussy and wouldn’t ask. So I am taking care of that.”

He stalked closer, “I can smell your arousal too. I know you want to fuck his wolf side, let me wreck that little pussy of yours.”

You gulped nervously, he took a step towards you and you took one back. Your back pressed against the wall and he put his hands up beside your head.

“I won’t hurt you. Kun very much loves you, and he would probably kill himself if I ever injured you.”

He ran his hand along your cheek, his nails significantly longer now, and you flinched.

His eyes softened for a moment, the glow lessening “I told you I won’t hurt you.”

His voice returned to normal Kun’s voice, “I won’t let him hurt you okay. But I can’t stop him from doing this just trust me.”

He leaned forward and kissed you. You melted in his hold, the kiss full of passion and love. But soon the wolf took back over, a low growl leaving his throat. He licked across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth allowing him access.

He groaned and pushed his knee between your thighs making you whimper into his mouth. His tongue ran across yours before he pulled back and looked at you. His eyes glowed hazel again, “Oh how I have wanted to do this.”

He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder then he walked towards the bedroom. He roughly threw you down onto the bed, your body bouncing against the plush mattress.

“I want you to know now, I will not go easy on you. Understood?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it off, making you gasp.

He smirked, “Oh so you like seeing me use my strength? I knew you wanted this side.”

You looked away embarrassed and he smacked your thigh, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, I do like it.”

He crawled onto the bed and hovered over you. You felt extra small below his daunting figure with the gaze he held in his eyes.

He snarled, his prominent canines showing, “Can’t wait to be buried in that little cunt of yours, but first I wanna taste you.”

He gripped the hem of your pants, “Wai-”

He watched you closely and he growled against your clit at the sight, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He ripped your pants and panties open then pulled them off your legs. You whimpered, “Damnit, I liked those pants.”

“Kun will buy you new ones. Be quiet.”

He placed your knees on his shoulders and hovered over your core. He took in a deep breath, “Smell fucking amazing.”

His tongue licked from your core up to your clit, and he moaned against you, “Taste amazing too.”

You grabbed onto his hair and he growled, “Pull my hair, I like it.”

You pulled his hair as his tongue ran against your clit at an insane pace. Your legs shook on his shoulders, and loud whimpers left your lips.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you neared your high. He slipped his tongue inside, then back up to your clit. His tongue moving expertly, and you whimpered.

He used one hand to hold your hips down and the other to keep your legs spread.

“A-ah so close.”

Your toes curled and your thighs clamped around his head, and your hips bucked up.

Your thighs shook against his hand and shoulder.

His voice came out in a growl, “Cum.”

The vibrations of his voice paired with his tongue movements sent you over the edge. You gripped his hair extra hard as waves of pleasure ran over you, and your whole body shook.

Your vision blurred and your breathing picked up.

Once you relaxed in his hold he backed away and smirked evilly, “You really liked that.”

You blushed and looked away.

He stroked himself a few times and eyed you sitting in front of him.

“No shame, I see why Kun likes doing that. So responsive to touches.”

He stood up from the bed and removed his sweats and underwear. “Take your shirt off unless you want it ripped.”

You sat up quickly and took your shirt off throwing it off to the side.

The bed dipped behind you, and sharp fingernails dug into your hips. You whimpered, and he growled lowly.

“On all fours, now.”

You flipped over, your ass up in the air. You shook your ass and he groaned, “I’m gonna pump you so full.”

His wolf was behaving really well, better than you would have expected.

You looked back and his eyes were extra golden, his canines even more prominent. You gulped nervously and watched as he guided himself into you. A howl coming from his lips as he sunk in.

His pace was fast and rough, and he growled with almost every thrust.

“Don’t look.”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and roughly turned your head forward. He gave you no time to adjust before he pulled out and thrust all the way back in, your body lurching forward.

He grunted and his nails dug into your hips further, likely drawing blood from you. He leaned down and kissed all along your back, leaving marks. “Mine.”

“Gonna fill you up with pups. Can’t wait to see you pregnant with my pups.”

“Yeah, you wanna be a daddy? Wanna fill me up?”

He tightened his hold on your hair and groaned, “Fuck, keep talking like that, and I’m gonna cum fast.”

“Maybe I want that.”

He chuckled, “So desperate for my cum you don’t even want to cum. Such a little cum slut.”

He changed his angle and started thrusting faster, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

You reached behind you and gripped his hair, and he buried his head into your neck. You felt a sharp pain, and then pleasure coursed through your entire body.

He groaned against your skin as he filled you up, and everything was blurry from the pleasure. You came right after him, and based on the low growls against your neck it felt good. He removed his teeth, pulled out, and flipped you over onto your back.

You gasped in surprise and grabbed onto his biceps.

He sunk back into you and picked up a quick pace fast. He placed both of your legs around his waist and he held onto your waist to keep you from moving up the bed.

He leaned down and littered your chest with hickeys, “The world needs to know who you belong to.”

His hips still snapped into yours at a rapid pace and you held onto his arms.

He bit down into your neck again on the same spot as before, and he snarled, “My mate.”

“Ahhh Kun how are you still going?”

He smirked, “Didn’t you know my stamina is higher, and I can finish multiple times.”

Your eyes widened, this was gonna be a long night.

You felt your heart soften. The two of you had spoken about mates, but he never would tell you if you were his.

You woke up the next morning in his arms and moved around to face Kun. His face had softened back to normal, his nails shortened, and his canines went back to normal.

He grunted with each thrust and came again, “You better have pups after this.”

The two of you had sex 3 more times, and you couldn’t move after the abuse he put your body through.

He yawned and pulled you closer, “Good morning beautiful.”

“Good morning Kun.” You could barely speak after all the moaning.

He buried his head in your neck then froze, and sniffed. “Did I bite you?”

You nodded and his eye widened, “I’m so sorry, but I gave you a mate mark last night.”

“What?”

“That mark will never go away, it means we are mated.”

You looked at his nervous face, “That’s fine Kun, you know I love you.”

He pulled you in and kissed you.

#nct #nct smut #wayv #wayv smut #wayv kun #nct kun #kun #kun smut #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct x reader #wayv x reader #kun x reader

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the-last-kenobi · 4 years ago

Note

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

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oogaboogasphincter · 4 years ago

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Kinktober Day 1

💜my kinktober masterlist

pairing: agent whiskey x f!reader

prompt: face-sitting💜cream-pie💜anonymous sex (prompt list by @the-purity-pen)

rating: E (explicit) 18+ only!

word count: 740+

warnings: pairing is an established relationship, a teensy bit of angst in the beginning, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to more sex at the end, dirty talk, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, angel, cowboy/cowgirl💀💀), semi-cringey use of a cowboy hat, very cringey horse/riding puns (i apologize y’all but this man makes me go stupid go crazy ✋😔), reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

author’s note: first day ahh!!!!! i hope y’all like these spicy lil thangs ✨ i would say don’t mind me being a complete whore w these, but isn’t that the point? 🤪 well i don’t slut-shame so let’s jump right into this kinktober together! i hope you enjoy! :) <3

gif by @hunterschafer

Saturday has finally arrived, putting an end to the stressful and busy week you just got dragged through. All loose ends have been tied up - emails have been sent, bills have been paid, schedules for next week have been confirmed - and you are gifted with a long weekend to spend with Jack, to do absolutely nothing if you please.

Jack took you on a walk around the city earlier, scoping out restaurants you want to try in the future, small businesses you could potentially do some holiday shopping at. Midway through fall, the air was crisp, the sun was warm, the sky barely had any clouds, the breeze refreshing and consistent. Autumn’s breath swirled around your ethereal figure, around every magnificent curve and across every beautiful plane, as if it were unable to stop its playful fingers from gliding over your body admiringly. Every now and then it would get a little more flirtatious, blowing the hem of your short dress up ever so slightly to innocently get a larger peek at you.

Jack thanked the wind for its boldness, sharing its adoration for you. His eyes remained puppy-dog-like throughout the day, enraptured by the beauty that is you. He admired that, after going through the motions of your week, you managed to carry such a positive aura. While walking along the sidewalk, you turned back to look at him and let him know how much you appreciated his little date, and he was awestruck by your glow. He took pride in the fact that he had something to do with making you look so happy. At ease, relaxed, a bundle of joy. He kept his loving gaze as you turned back around and watched as the breeze played with your hair.

Back home now, panties and shoes long discarded at the edge of the bed, you straddle Jack’s head. His warm hands knead the chilled, soft meat of the backs of your thighs, the desire to caress them unwavering ever since they were flashed to him by the mischievous wind. Your folds are explored through lazy glides of his tongue and your fingers comb Jack’s hair back from his blissed-out face. His eyes close as his tongue increases in speed, taking up a rhythm that makes your eyelids stutter.

His hands slide up over your ass and bunch the fabric of your dress around your waist, a nonverbal cue for you to take it off. You do as he wishes, lifting it up over your head and tossing it onto the mattress behind you. A satisfactory moan comes from his throat and vibrates through your pussy. Fingers returning to knot in his hair, your hips gain a mind of their own and start to buck back and forth on Jack’s mouth. You praise him, “That feels so fucking good, Jack.”

He unlatches his mouth from your entrance momentarily, “That’s it, ride my face, sweetheart.”

You take locks of his hair like reins and feverishly grind your dripping sex against his needy tongue. Guttural moans and groans escape from both of you as your approach your climax. His grip suddenly stops your movements, his mouth leaves you and a whimper bubbles out of your chest. Confusion clouds your mind until Jack leans to his side and grabs his cowboy hat off of the edge of the bed. He drops it on your head, pushes it down so it fits better and explains, “If my cowgirl is gonna ride me, she needs the proper uniform.”

You both erupt in a fit of giggles. He’s stupidly goofy, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. He opens his mouth back up and eagerly dives back into your cunt, grabbing your ass and spreading you wide so he can lick deeper into you. In no time at all, he has you soaking his tongue with a rush of your slick, calling out his name and gripping his hat so it doesn’t fall off as you ride your stallion.

Descending from your peak, you make your way down Jack’s body and mold your wrecked figure to his, capturing his mouth with yours. He rolls you onto your back and plants a kiss on each of your cheeks before taking his hat back, placing it on his head and smirking down at you. You tease, “You going to tame your mustang now, cowboy?”

He laughs and tips the brim of his hat at you, “I sure am, angel.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

#tppkinktober2021 #kinktober 2021 #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey smut #pedro pascal characters #kinktober

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ppersonna · 5 years ago

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tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother. He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin. angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are. i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia so i blame her. as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes. fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao 🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy! feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you!

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word. Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no. He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon. Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second. Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since. Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line. Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin. He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter. Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension. All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever. Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime. You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most. You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch. Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows. It takes a moment to gather your surroundings. You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there. As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time. 5:34 pm. Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix. How had you fallen asleep for five hours? How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it. You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles. Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung. Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each. Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.” He pushes past you and into the living room.

Your mouth gapes open. Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this. Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure. “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff. “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam? What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado. “Obviously not anymore. We broke up, she kept the apartment. Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps? You clear your throat. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen. “No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother. He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat. The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn. Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone. You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon. It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping. God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on. I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone. “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night. It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple. Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom. The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room. You’re not getting out of this. I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon. Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed. “I agree to your terms. Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time. 6:40. God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready. There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already? We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table. He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement. “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower. That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds. We’ll be waiting awhile.”

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants. You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage. Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.” Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face. “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face. Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening. You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth. Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone. And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin. You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas. He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.” Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory. Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other. Feels like old times. Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room. The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life. Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv. Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.

Why did he do it? You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning. Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off. He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing. Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now. Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again. While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow. You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep. If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved. But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems. You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught. You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable. You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day. Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol. Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. A nightcap. Of course. You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house. You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate. It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge. You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house. You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile. Liquid sleep. And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder. Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired. “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls. The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.

“Fucking help me! You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything. You did that on your own.” Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent. He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?” You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him. It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you. “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there. You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush. He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks. “We talked about that. Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own. He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.” His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle. “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan. “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth. He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more. His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs. You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused. His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure. He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath. “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free. Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.” He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts. You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime. You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.” Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut. Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.” His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat. You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his. Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life. You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet. My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you. Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!” You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.” He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you. He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix. This is surely what heaven feels like. It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity. He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung! You! Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks. He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises. “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”

“Yeah baby, cum for me. Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down. Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry. You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words. You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please. Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.” You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash. He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY! Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #v

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percywinchester27 · 5 years ago

Text

La Petite Mort

Word count: 2.1K

Pairing: Dean X Reader AU

Warnings: None, just fluff, humour and implied sex ;)

Series Summary: The reader has just shifted to a new flat and boy, someone on the floor has a really banging sex life! The passionate moans have been keeping her up for several nights in row and enough is enough! Reader has her suspicions, but is it really the green-eyed hottie from room no. 307?

A/N: It’s a neighbours!AU. I’m finally writing one. So excited to share it with you guys. Hope y’all like it! <3

Beta: The best babe, @deanssweetheart23

Everything was fine till the banging started. Pun very much intended.

The shift had been smooth, the job was going great and life was finally on track. You had slid under the covers with the most satisfied smile in years only to be woken up to a lady very, very, very happy with her life.

Oh yeah… oh yeah… ahhh right there… oh fuck yeah…

You sat up right in your bed, eyes wide, face hot.

Third night in a row. Third fucking night. Literally.

What in the good heavens? The landlady might have mentioned this while renting out the flat!

Shoving the pillow over your ears, you fell back onto the mattress, closing your eyes shut very tightly. Eventually sleep overtook you and you lapsed into lousy dreams of trying to catch the taxi which kept evading you. Not a metaphor for your sex life at all. Nope.

The disturbed sleep didn’t help your mood the following day. Everyone at the office thought of you as a happy-go lucky person. Lately, they were seeing this whole new dark side of you. Sleep was essential to your functioning.

In the evening, on your way back, you stopped by the coffee shop downstairs to pick up a brownie. It was a little place; busy yet quaint. The barista, Charlie, made two hearts in your coffee instead of one. That put the biggest smile on your face.

At least, the day was ending on a high note.

Your newly rented flat was on the third floor of a very complicated building. One staircase did not directly lead into another. An entire hallway had to be crossed to get to it. The design probably broke a hundred different by laws and someone was definitely paid off in the city civil office to get a construction permit. You did not want to imagine how the people would fare in case of a fire emergency. Learning the escape plan was like memorising the map of a treasure hunt. You escape, you win. You lose… whoops! Better luck in next life. But the rent was cheap and you were already living all the clichés of a struggling writer- one incomplete book, a job at a publishing house and addiction to coffee. So, yes, you would brave fire when it came to being able to afford a living.

Struggling with the brownie package and the coffee in your hand you jammed the key into the door. It didn’t go in.

What the hell?

You tried again, and once more the key got jammed. On a closer look, you realised that the lock didn’t resemble yours at all. Stepping back, you peered at the door. 307. Not 306- which was yours.

The floor design was insane and instead of the flats being lined up next to each other, they were all fronting one another in a haphazard fashion. Shaking your head, you took a step back and jammed the key into the lock of your own flat.

Jesus! You’re losing it, Y/N.

Shirking off the mild irritation, you cooked yourself a hot cup of instant noodles, put on your favourite TV show and slinked into your couch. Tonight’s episode was going to reveal who the murderer was and you had been dying for the suspense to finally end.

Just when the protagonist was about to point a gun at the killer in the shadows…

Oh my God... you’re incredible… aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh…

You completely abandoned the TV and jumped up from the sofa. The fire hazard might still be worth it, but the thin walls so weren’t.

On tiptoes, you made your way to the east side wall, putting your ear against it. The noise wasn’t coming from upstairs. That was the only sure thing. But it was impossible to pinpoint the direction. The moans were reverberating through the walls. So loudly that there was no escaping it. Not in the bedroom, the kitchen or the living room sofa.

Of all of them, the east wall seemed like the culprit.

Right there… yeah…

307. Whoever it was in that room needed to calm the FUCK down. You grabbed your blanket and dragged it to the end of the living room, fuming. What ticked you off was how much this was ticking you off.

It’s sleep you told yourself. The lack of sleep was the only thing making you mad. The sex noises couldn’t be it. Because there were other noises- a dog barked somewhere occasionally, one of the rooms had a very loud stereo and someone was too much into baking- the beater was ceaseless. No, it had to be the timing and your wrecked sleep schedule.

Just like the nights before, you covered your ears and started reciting the story of the manuscript you had been reading at work. Eventually, sleep overtook you again.

The next morning you woke up in a crappier mood. If that was even possible.

Breathing down on anything and everything, you locked the door on your way out for work. Turning into the corridor, you ran into a wall of solid flesh.

In your groggy, sleep deprived state, the first thing you noticed was the way he smelled- leather and whiskey and something headier than that. It was divine. Next, you looked up into those eyes- stunning green, like sparkling water running over jade.

“Easy there, sweetheart!” The guy smirked.

You straightened yourself and took a step back. In front of you stood the most handsome guy you had ever seen. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, almost brown, and those stunning eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You had one of those dumb faces that gave away every damn thought crossing through your brain, so obviously you tried your best not to meet his gaze. Which was a shame really. That face demanded to be ogled at. Let alone the body that followed.

“No, no… I didn’t mind at all.”

You saw him reach out to the door of 307.

“You’re the one who lives there?” You asked through gritted teeth.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. You want a tour?”

Uhgg the best looking guy and he has to be such a douche!

Slipping past him, you stomped off towards the stairs. This too-good-looking-for-the-world asshat had been ruining your nights and in turn your life.

You knew it was wrong to be mad at him without, at least, talking about the issue first. A polite conversation explaining your situation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world now, would it? But how does one start a conversation pertaining to that? After all, he wasn’t exactly the one making the noise. What would you say?

So, hey would you mind pleasuring your girlfriend a little less?

Or better. Ever heard of a ball gag?

Mere thought of it made you shudder.

The work day was spent trying to shove your neighbour's stupidly handsome face out of your mind. It didn’t help that your mother kept calling, repeatedly. You knew what she had to say. How you should have taken that bigger job at Royal’s publishing. How the writing career might never take off. How you really should get a boyfriend now, or you’ll be the only unmarried cousin in the family.

Usually you could entertain your mother with well-timed hmms and ahhs. Today wasn’t that day.

Bone-tired and absentminded, you jammed the key in the keyhole in the evening, only for it to get stuck again. You looked up at the door. 307.

Well, shit!

Putting both your hands into it, you yanked the key with all your might, just as the door opened. There he stood, with his crooked smirk, dimples digging in, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and sweatpants that hung all too low on those hips.

“You don’t need to break into my house. I already offered a tour.” Of course, god gave him an irresistible voice. Cause at this point, why not?

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “I keep getting the wrong door. This one’s mine.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in 306!” You could feel his smirk more than see it. “Looks like you’re having a good ol’ time in there.”

“Excuse me?”

The guy raised scratched the back of his neck, face apologetic. “You might… ya know… just keep the voice down in there?”

The audacity of this guy!

“Rich of you to ask anyone to keep it down!” You hissed. “Why don’t you tell your girlfriend to keep it low?”

With that, you shut your door in his surprised face. The worst part was, after bumping into him in the morning, your mind was producing distinct images of him in the bed, doing things to a woman. You had tried your best not to let them make a home in your head. But like a stickly tenant, they refused to evacuate. No wonder it was hard to look him in those brilliant, brilliant green eyes. The guy was hot! There was no denying that. You weren’t even willing to accept to yourself just how much time you had put into imagining him naked.

If anything, the denial mixed with your pre-existing irritation and sleep deprivation had you ready tonight.

So the moment the enamoured voice started begging, you hopped out of your chair. You had every intention of yelling yourself hoarse at the delectable resident next door, but the moment you stepped into the corridor, you came face to face with the very man.

He was- thankfully, completely clothed- looking a bit harassed, himself.

aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh… right there...

Your head whipped up to the suspected direction of the voice, and back at him. “Wait, you aren’t… it’s not...?”

His face mirrored your expression of surprise and then he burst out laughing. “Looks like we’ve both been played.”

“Not intentionally,” you said, peering at the adjacent doors, mostly to not look at him. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He shot a glance at the door opposite to his. “If it’s not you, my best guess is that guy over there. I mean, if you ask me, Nick over there doesn’t look the type to make a woman that happy… but what do I know?”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you said, taking a tentative step towards the said door.

Mr. hot guy smartpants laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’s the douchiest douche you’ll ever meet. Guy like that? Definitely selfish in bed.”

You frowned at him.

“He asks women in the street to smile more,” hot guy explained.

“Uhhgg… yeah you’re right. It’s definitely not him.”

Hot guy pointed his fingers at the rest of the doors. “That one’s rented by three guys. I don’t think it’s them. Mrs. Hendrickson over there works night shifts. I have no clue who lives in there,” he pointed to the last door, directly in front of you.

Goodness you’re amazing...

“Yes, lady, we already know!” He called out.

You couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

His eyes softened. “Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, taking his. He had a firm grip. A very funny sensation gripped your stomach. Like a flutter. Nervousness?

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” He smirked. “I sure wish the circumstances were better.”

You bit your lip. “Listen, I’m sorry for the comment about your girlfriend. I was just mad about, you know... “

“Don’t worry about it. My non-existent girlfriend is very cool. She took no offense.”

You snorted.

“I was dead serious about the house tour,” He winked. “I can promise great coffee.”

“Sure, sometime soon.”

He shot a look at the door with the unknown occupants again. “I hate to leave this here, but I think we should get whatever kind of shuteye we can while they’re quiet over there, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hurried back to your flat. “Night, Dean.”

He gave you his crooked grin again, just a hint of mischief. “Night, Y/N.”

You knew it wasn’t him now, and he was right about making the most of the quiet and fucking off to sleep, and yet, each time you closed your eyes, your mind decided to replay your imaginations for you. With a start, you sat up in your bed, a thought occurring to you like a hit on the head- If you had been thinking about him that way? Had he been imagining you as well?

Blood rushed to your face at the very idea. Though a tiny part of you begged for the answer- would it be such a bad thing if he had?

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

A/N 2: So? So? SO??? What do you think?

I value each and every reblog more than I can tell you! Thank you! Feedback is love and life!

This series will have a total of 5 or 6 parts max.

If you want be tagged in the future parts, YOU CAN SEND ME AND ASK or add yourself to the taglist HERE.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to get notified when there’s an update.

La Petite Mort Taglist:

@deanssweetheart23 @cosicas-cuquis @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mlovesstories @feelmyroarrrr @thefridgeismybestie @gabavaldman @akshi8278 @michellethetvaddict @fandomoverdose666 @badlittlehabit99 @lastcallatrockysbar @mrswhozeewhatsis @thestralsaregood @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @notan-applepielife @stoneyggirl @tricksterdean @sea040561 @i-is-for-inspiring @torn-and-frayed @flamencodiva @sunflowers-n-rocknroll @binxy @sdavid09 @sherala007 @ohgodwhybloggg @mogaruke @seekingkairos @tootsie562 @pansexualgrapes @soitiswritten05 @shesnotmaria @miss-nerd95 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @atc74 @onethirstyunicorn @thoughts-and-funnies @deandreamernp @deanwinchesterinthedarktower @outofnowhere82 @traceyaudette

#dean x reader fluff #dean winchester x reader #neighbors!AU #bartender!Dean #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #neighbor!dean #Ana writes LPM #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #lpm 1 #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

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deepdonutkid · 4 years ago

Text

Nonsense

A/N:

This took me way too long! I’m sorry, I was stuck on the Polly part for a while after Helen’s death.

Even though there is a part in the middle, which I’m not really satisfied with, I’m still glad, I finished that chapter. I hope you like it. It’s a little sad for a story, that will later focus on... other stuff.

Tbh... I forgot, if Martha died from a disease or something else. That’s why this part is a little vague. But he will talk more about his dead wife much later in the story.

English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, just a small part of it! Thanks to @retromafia for helping me out on this chapter! You’re so lovely!

John as mental health issues, but it’s very different to those of his brothers!

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl @theshelbyclan @justalonelyslytherin

Masterlist Do you wanna touch

____________________

All fucking week he had thought about this date and her. John was distracted at work, at home and at the Garrison. His head was somewhere else, preferably with her, the beautiful Russian girl he had met a couple of days ago. He tried to keep this to himself even though he worried others would start to notice his weird behavior. Well, it was pretty hard to shut up about it, when he sat drunk next to his friends in the pub, but John wasn’t really ready to talk about this. It still felt so surreal like this encounter had never happened and it was all in his head. In addition to that, others- mainly his family- would gladly ruin this for him, before it had even begun, which was why he was so reluctant to talk about it.

They would ask him all sorts of stupid questions, which he couldn’t answer at all. He frowned and closed the book. Later he would meet the mysterious woman again and this was his only chance, since he didn’t know her full name or her address or another way to contact her. So he had to go there or he would go crazy thinking about what might have been. But there was a problem with that.

Of course there was a problem as nothing in his life could be easy. Not even once. However he refused to call his kids a problem. His dad called him like this more than once. And if John wasn’t a problem, his name was either accident or brat. Needless to say John was way nicer to his children than his father was to him. John loved all four of them. He really did, but… somebody had to look after them, while he wasn’t at home. So he had to ask either Polly or Ada and he didn’t know what would be worse.

His sister would spread the word of him having a girlfriend faster around than a disease. Maybe she would even spice up the story a little and add some drama just for the fun of it. Then he wasn’t out for a date, but to meet the woman he had impregnated or what else. And Polly, well she was the main reason he was scared to even mention his rendezvous. His aunt had the great talent to investigate his private life like fucking copper. Once she had sniffed something, she wouldn’t let go of it and kept bothering him.

Anyways he had to talk to one of them and the chat wouldn’t be a nice one. A choice between the foul and the evil. Ugh, he was in the mood to flip a coin. There were some on his desk. So why not? He looked around, if anybody was watching him, but he was alone in his office. Then he took a coin from the daily bets and tossed it. Once it was up in the air, he had made up his mind. The coin just proofed it. He should go to Polly and it would fit in his schedule as now was his lunch break and he would eat with the others anyway. If he would go now, he could still catch her alone in the kitchen. A grunt left his lips while he stood up from his chair. His pace was steady, but fast as he made his way through the betting shop. Luckily nobody noticed that he left his table a little too early.

He had never opened or closed a door as quietly as in this exact moment. “Polly?”, he had asked in a careful tone into the empty room. John heard movements from the kitchen. Suddenly her head peaked around the corner. “Yes, John?” She had emphasized every syllable as if he was stupid. Maybe he was just not ready to have this talk. On the other hand he had no chance. This was a now or never situation and he preferred now over never.

John gathered all his courage to approach her: “Would you do me a little favor?” All the sudden his hands were sweaty and no matter how many times he had rubbed them on his pants, it wouldn’t get any less smeary. Usually he wasn’t so nice and polite to his relatives. It was more like he had earned the title arrogant brat rightfully. He scratched his neck and gave her his best puppy eyes. And just to top it off his angelic smile, which had saved him many times before. Most of the times, he could avoid the consequences of his own actions with his charming smirk.

But today it didn’t help. Polly just shook her head. “What is it this time?”

“Just a little thing”, he began, then paused to take a deep breath and gain courage to exclaim his wish: “Can you watch the kids this evening? It’s really important.”

His aunt froze mid movement and starred at him. After a while she started blinking. Her glare was concerning. “Why this time? The last time was just a week ago. Another task from Tommy? He didn’t talked to me about this.”

John pressed his teeth again and shook his head. He looked at the roof and searched for the right words to explain his situation. Why was this so difficult? It was just a date. Yet it felt like so much more.

The Shelby sighed, while his hand was fumbling with his lighter in the pocket of his pants. “I’m meeting someone” was his short answer to a complex problem.

“Did Tommy ask you to?”, she asked once again. No matter if it was business or his private life, Polly liked to be up to date.

Again he shook his head. “No, not Tommy, but it’s still important. So would you please help me?”

Polly clucked her tongue and hurried back to the kitchen. John followed her and leaned against the door frame, waiting for his answer.

“Well, I got a meeting too, so you better change the appointment with said woman, because I don’t want to change my plans for you”, she replied, while stirring a pot. Afterwards she tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and turned around. “Lunch is ready. Better get your brothers, so we can eat.”

Apparently the conversation was over, because it really started, but John wouldn’t give up right away. “But I can’t”, he protested: “That’s the only night she is available and I don’t know how to reach her.”

Without looking at him, she walked right back into the living room and started putting dished on the table. “Ahh, see? I was right about the woman part… But why do you want to meet somebody you barely know?” Her question was reasonable.

John was so lost in his thought about her and yet he had no answer. No good ones. So he just said the next best thing: “I won a bet and I want to see her.”

Right when he said that his brother came in. Arthur widened his eyes and scratched his chin. “Want to see who?”, he asked. It was horrible how nosy his family was.

There was no peaceful day at the Shelby household. Never ever.

“He has a new girl, but he doesn’t know anything about her”, Polly retorted, before John even had the chance to answer himself.

Arthur chuckled and added: “Oh, Our John was never a man for talking. Right, John boy?”

They had to be fucking kidding him. It felt like he was sixteen again and started to meeting Martha. This was so embarrassing. John nodded slowly and gave his brother a false laugh.

“Well, we had other things to do”, John objected and it wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. There was just no explanation why he was drawn to this woman, who was a stranger to him, but oh, those kisses really worked some crazy magic on him.

His brother burst out in laughter and slapped his hand on John’s back. “Oh, I know! I fucking know what you mean”, he exclaimed: “Why talk, when you can have fun with a woman?”

And right now, John couldn’t agree less. He wanted to talk with the mysterious woman, but she rushed off into the night before he could even say goodbye to her. Damn, he wished he knew more about her, maybe then he wouldn’t be so nervous right now. The Shelby didn’t feel like his usual cheeky, charming self, more like fucking train wreck.

His face got gleaming red, but he tried to act like was completely cool with it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her. Gosh, what wouldn’t he give to spend the night with her?

“Pol, you see John’s face. He is red like a crayfish”, Arthur joked and pulled his little brother into a headlock.

Their aunt walked around them, very carefully as she was carrying the big steam pot. She sounded like she was mentally everywhere else, when she murmured: “Yes, Arthur, I see it- shameful red- but now it’s time for lunch, so release your brother and come sit.” Somehow Polly managed to phrase it exactly like their mom used to say it, even though she was only three years older than Arthur, but he’d still respect her.

So he did what she asked him to do and let John go again to take a seat at the table.

It was the perfect timing to beg Polly once again, because he didn’t want to have the same conversation with his sister. “Polly, Please”, he insisted: “I wouldn’t ask you, if it wasn’t really important to me.”

“What is so important about one woman, that you have the great urge to meet her?”

That was the question he was asking himself all week, but okay. Now he needed to come up with an answer or otherwise he would have to get comfortable with the thought he would never see her again.

He licked his lips as he assembled the words in his brain to a convincing answer. “She has…”, he began, but then he got lost again.

“Huge cans?”, Arthur purposed with a big smile on his face.

But John shook his head: “Not that, her tits are average, there is something else about her and I can’t say what yet, that’s why I need to find out…. Or I go crazy.”

He turned to Polly and put on his puppy eyes again. “Do you want me to go crazy, Polly?”

Pol pouted and sighed. “Fine, you get your will again, but that’s the last time and don’t ever bother me with this again.”

His eyes shined bright in the lights of success and more importantly… winning an argument with his aunt. “Thank you and I’ll never bother you again.”

The matriarch went her way around her reign and said to herself: “We’ll see about that.”

Now this problem found its solution, the next question popped up in his head. Where were his kids? Because he was so caught up with his date, he had forgotten to pick them up from school. It wasn’t a serious issue. Three of them could walk home on their own, but the youngest was a different thing.

In his memory of this day, he had left Katie here, but she wasn’t running around like usually. “Pol, where are the kids?”

“The kids?”, she observed: “Oh, the kids you want to get rid of? You mean… those kids? They are upstairs.”

John grunted. That was far from reality and his aunt should know that. “That’s bullshit. I don’t want to get rid of them.”

“Then act like you care for them once instead of fucking around and I might believe you”, Polly chided and gave him the mean side eye, while she filled the plates with stew.

And she acted like a real bitch lately, John wanted to add, but bid his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret deeply. It was so annoying how she tried to make him feel guilty for having a night off. He was so sick of this. Either he was working or he was with his kids and he had little or no time for himself. Just the few hours when they were asleep and he could go to the Garrison for a beer or two.

“It’s just one date!”, he yelled, but then clenched his fists and swallowed his anger and repeated quietly: “It’s just one date.”

The room was quiet now. Nobody said or did anything for a while.

Then Polly started moving again and explained: “You should focus on getting a wife and not play around with some floosy girl… but you’re an adult now, John, so do whatever you want… just don’t drag me into your mess.”

John nodded and went upstairs to get his kids. Yes, he was still bitter about the things Polly said to him, but he wouldn’t let this ruin his day. After all he had plans. Maybe he gripped the banister a little too tight, well, at least he didn’t bellowed at his children, when he found them making a mess in his old room.

All four were sitting here and around them were all the toys they had. Most of them were his old toys or some from his brothers.

“Lunch is ready”, he grunted and waited for them to get up, so they would follow him. They just stared at him with wide eyes.

His oldest daughter was the first to talk: “We heard you yell at Aunt Polly…”

He didn’t answer instead he just moaned and leaned against the wall.

“You’re away tonight”, she added and tilted her head. There was curiosity in her eyes. It didn’t bother him, but something else did. She had the same eyes as her mother. Like a dagger it pierced his heart, whenever she gave him this look. Martha used to do this as well.

Slowly he nodded. He couldn’t lie to his kids at all. “Yes, but you’ll be staying here and Polly will bring you home, when it’s bed time.”

Breanna thought about this for a second and then like this whole conversation had never happened, she stood up and helped her little sister to get on her feet as well. “Well, it’s time for lunch now”, she declared and look at her twin brother: “C’mon, James, we still got homework to do.”

Now that she was standing, John could see how small she was actually. Sometimes he forgot, she was still a child, but the way she acted was different. His oldest daughter had picked up a lot from Polly and her mother, while he was in France. However he tried to not treat her like an adult. She wasn’t and her childhood shouldn’t be ripped from her. Breanna didn’t need to protect her siblings from anything and yet she still thought it was her job.

James on the other hand was quite the opposite. Loud, angry, such a brat, he picked up fight, whenever he could, much like his father at that age.

Luckily his older brother Colin was also a voice of reason and not as chaotic as James. Colin was the oldest and he didn’t actually talk much, but on somedays and with certain persons he wouldn’t shut up. Most of the time Colin did good in school, read a lot, unlike his uncle Finn who was just five years older than him. And more importantly… Colin did everything his father asked him to.

And then here was Katie, the youngest. Just three years old and a sweet girl, but she was of fragile condition. She was born prematurely and was also the reason why Martha died. John tried to ignore the fact, because even though she was the reason, it wasn’t her fault. How could she? She didn’t pick her time to be born. However from time to time, Katie managed to make him cry. After the war, he rarely shed tears, but every time she was sick and he had to go with her to the hospital, he lost his nerves. She was still his little baby and the thought of losing her too wrecked him.

They were all on their way downstairs and John followed them back. He held Katie’s hands while walking down the stairs.

The lunch was very silent. There was still tension left in the room, but John didn’t cared. Katie was sitting on his lap and they both ate from the same plate, like they always did. But it wasn’t a cute ritual, more like a space problem, with all the family members around the table, it was a little cramped. Too cramped for Katie to have her own stool. Another reason, why he needed a wife. So he and his family could eat in his kitchen and they would all have enough space again.

A part of John was worried Polly or Arthur mentioned his date to Tommy, who would gladly take the opportunity to ruin his day. His older brother would pick all the question, John had been asking all week and then make him look stupid in front of the whole family. But apparently Polly was too pissed about the fight to say anything that day and John thanked god for this.

Somehow Katie spilled the stew all over his pants, but he had no time to go back home and change his pants. He still needed to finish the books and after that, he could get dressed for his date.

So John sat in his office in a damp suit and tried to fix what he did wrong before lunch.

Maybe the luck was on his side today after all, because he managed to get everything done early. Somethings didn’t went as smooth as he had wished for, but at least it worked out so well, that he could go to the date and it was still a win for him.

As fast as possible without running he walked home and sprinted up the stairs to the master bedroom. Now he could change his cloths and he was indeed very happy about it. The stew had dried on his leg, which made his skin itchy. Basically he ripped his clothes off the second he arrived in his room.

“Fuck.” A curse left his lips, because he got stuck in his pants and almost hit the floor. Last second he got his balance back and then threw his pants in the opposite direction. He could care about this later.

First he had to clean the stains from his body. So he rushed to the kitchen, just in his underwear and rubbed his leg with a wet cloth. This had to be enough. With the time he had left, he couldn’t take a bath.

Back in his room again, he stood in front of the cabinet and picked the first suit he had in his hand. There was no discussion about this. Suits were suits and he had plenty of them, all of them looked good on him and she wouldn’t even mind, would she?

While he button up his shirt, he stopped all the sudden. What if she would mind? Slowly he walked backwards to the cabinet. Should he wear his Sunday suit? Thought and thoughts came rushing in. She seemed like a fine lady, but yet she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for the bet.

He got headache since his argument with Polly and it got worse. Maybe he would go to the spot, where they should meet and she wasn’t there. The possibility, that she tricked him, hadn’t occurred in his mind until now.

Honestly, John felt so stupid, when he realized how weird the coincidence was. What were his chances to be so lucky? To meet a beautiful, wealthy and unmarried woman, who was also funny and charming and mysterious and he could find a ton more of adjectives to describe her? And then win the round and the bet, he had made with her? What were his chances for that? So either he was one of the luckiest men in this world or a goddamn idiot.

Or maybe… his mind tricked him. He was pretty drunk after all and in his twisted mind the details of this scene got lost. Maybe he didn’t win the round, but because he wished so bad for it, he had changed his memory of that said night. Maybe he was so lonely he made up this perfect woman, because he couldn’t bare his poor existence anymore.

And did he think about his stupid suit so much?

Yes, he was nervous, but this was no explanation for this nonsense.

Right now, John was freaking out about a woman he barely knew. It reminded him of a time, where he did the same thing… but with Martha, a girl he had known all his life. Back then and today he was well aware of why he was so nervous around his first wife. He loved her and he was afraid of saying or doing something very stupid.

But he didn’t loved that Russian woman. He couldn’t, not after only one kiss. It was impossible and yet the kiss felt so real. The memory of her lips was burned into his mind and it drove him crazy.

And he didn’t know, why he had this feeling, which wasn’t love and he didn’t even know what it was, and suddenly he had more questions in his head than he ever had in his whole life.

Usually, he didn’t think that much about anything. He wasn’t the guy who put much thought into every little thing that happened around him.

Everything he wanted to do now was to yell. He couldn’t even put his frustration into words anymore. His head was full of white noise.

Barefooted he stood on the wooden floor of his bedroom, which he used to share with the love of his life. John took a few deep breaths and looked around. Everything was still the same. After the war he had no energy to change something in here, even though it was just fueling his mental health issues. There was still her cabinet with her dresses and her stuff and sometimes when he was particularly lonely, he felt the fabric and imagined her soft body under it. It didn’t smell like Martha anymore, but sometimes he wished.

It felt like suffocating. He couldn’t breathe nor cry, even though tears filled his eyes.

He walked over to his nightstand and looked at the photograph of her. “You don’t get to fucking judge me”, he whispered: “Like you always did. You died and I’m still here and I love you and I always will, but don’t ruin this for me.”

“You put all these questions in my head, so I’ll fuck up and ruin everything”, he argued… with his dead wife like she was there. And he could imagine her so well, standing next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and that piercing look in her eyes.

Even before she died, he talked a lot to her and about her and sometimes just to himself, but it just got worse, when he came home from France. He can’t handle the silence in the room nor the void his head. Suddenly he said with a soft voice: “I know, what I promised you back then and when I made that promise, I believed every word of it, but you can’t be the only woman I’ll ever love now. You are dead.”

He wasn’t there when she died and the worst part was… he hadn’t even known until he got home. Polly said, she was about to write a letter, but then she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to bother him, while he was in the trenches. Of course, he had worries, when he didn’t get a letter from his wife in months. John just thought she was mad at him, because she was pregnant again while he was away. And then he came home and his house was empty. No Martha and no kids. So he walked back to Polly’s Place and then she told him. His wife was dead and he was surrounded by his family, but he had never felt so lonely in the world.

To this very day, this memory haunted him in the worst way.

And yet, he refused to crumble right away. Not before it had even started. Life was going on and he refused to just stand there, while the time passed. He would walk, run away from this memory if he had to.

“Let me try it at least”, he bargained: “You don’t know her and neither do I. She could be a beast, a real bitch and maybe, just maybe I don’t want to see her again. And maybe I’ll do, but that’s not your decision. I make my own decisions now, because that’s how things work for the living people, Martha.”

It hurt to say her name, but he had to. The word had so much power over him and he took this power back, by saying it. Then he flipped the photograph over and walked back to the cabinet.

Without a second doubt he picked his finest suit and just like that Martha was gone. She would come back eventually, but right now he had other things to do. Like do his hair and drink a little sip of whiskey for confidence.

With a toothpick in his mouth, he left the house and walked the road. All alone.

#john shelby #peaky #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fooking #peaky fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders john #john shelby x oc #john shelby x #johnboy #dead wife

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according-to-the-laura · 3 years ago

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StackedNatural Day 83: 2x10

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

January 11, 2022

2x10: Hunted

Written by: Raelle Tucker

Directed by: Rachel Talalay

Original air date: January 11, 2007

Plot Synopsis:

Sam meets a woman who shares his ability to have visions, and she warns him that she has seen the future where he dies in an explosion.

Features:

John’s last words, Ava sees Sam’s death, Psychic kids are being murdered, Gordon makes a reappearance, Dean gets kidnapped, brotherly code words,

My Thoughts:

I’ve said this before but I LOVE the psychic kids plotline. It’s a shame that it gets dropped (although it gets dropped in favour of the angels and apocalypse plotline which is worth it imo). I would love to hear people’s restructures of how they would make the psychic kids work without abandoning the angels and the apocalypse, because anything that gave us Cas needs to stay.

Ava is a great character, which I’m mostly saying because I remember how she develops and I LOVE a heel turn.

This is a really great episode because it’s a full Samgirl and a partial Deangirl, and I love when we get to explore both characters in one go. The acting from both of them is great this episode, especially from Jackles when he’s trying to keep up his front with Gordon and when the tripwires go off. Also, Sam wears the same brand of boots as me and I AM counting that as evidence towards the Queer Sam Theory by @billiewena (Cas wears them in later seasons, too!). This is my Stacked process and I can do what I want!

Anyways, I love that the one thing that makes Dean want to get out of hunting is Sam being in danger. I like when he can be contradictory about everything we’ve learned about him without actually losing characterization because Sam is the person he’s based his whole life around.

Last minute thoughts: PLEASE boys I am begging you to wear gloves when you go into places that are potential crime scenes. Ava you are way too close to your wedding to only be sending invites now. I do not feel great about the cop plotline and the rape joke at the end of this ep, it is losing points on my scale for that. Remember when we were supposed to care about the demon vessels?

Notable Lines:

“The yellow-eyed man. He comes to me in my dreams. Tells me to do things, awful things. But I tell him no, no, I don't want to!”

“He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd… [...] That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

“I just helped you steal some dead guy's confidential psych files. I'm awesome!”

“He has plans for me. He says there's a war coming. That people like me, we're going to be the soldiers. Everything's about to change.”

“I'm not a killer, Dean. I'm a hunter. And your brother's fair game.”

“It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?”

“Screw the job. Screw it, man, I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 8.3

IMdB Rating: 8.5

In Conclusion: @meg3point0 looked ahead in the schedule and guys we have some JUICY Stackeds coming up soon. Stay tuned.

<< Previous Day | Next Day >>

#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #2x10 #Hunted #once again i am committing wage theft to post this gah everything happens so much all the time

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 5 years ago

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Hi! I love your work! I wanted to ask for one of got7 surprising the reader by wearing panties(they are shy!) Thank you😘

Here you go! I hope you like it! Also I just watched the Not by the Moon MV and I'm- ausjsusnahsudm it was so fucking good! I've been listening to it for the past hour. And Jackson in a crown 😤👌 I screeched.

Got7 Surprising you by Wearing Panties

Mark

Embarrassed babyboy #1. The first time he would wear them would have to be for some special occasion, but he would definitely wear them more after he knew that you liked them. You and Mark had been out all day for your one year anniversary, wandering around the town square and random shops. As soon as you got home, your hands were all over each other. You stopped for a second, furrowing your eyebrows as your fingers brushed over lacy fabric when you were about to pull down his pants. Mark froze up too, face slowly flushing red as he realized why you stopped. You looked down, practically drooling at the sight of the dark red fabric that you knew all too well- it was from your closet after all. You quickly spun him around, slapping his ass as you pushed him into the bedroom and demanded him to strip to nothing but the lacy lingerie. He was gonna have trouble finding a present better than this next year.

He was a little shy and unsure of himself the first time he wore it, but after you fucked him into the mattress as hard as you could, he would definitely be wearing them more often.

Jaebum

This one would definitely be the most surprising. He would be unbelievably embarrassed but, even if he won't admit it, he lives for praise; tell him how much of a pretty kitten he is and he's putty in your hands. He knew you had been busy working all week so you didn't mean to ignore him, but he had been feeling particularly needy so he had to go the extra mile. You were in your home office, filling out a few documents, when you heard the door open and close, indicating that your boyfriend had entered the room. You greeted him without looking which just made him pout more. He walked to your desk chair, pulling it back slightly so he could sit in your lap and make you look at him. You gulped and let out a shaky breath as you looked at him with wide eyes. His face was flushed red which matched the pretty red panties that adorned his hips, and his black leather collar that he usually never willingly put on fastened around his throat. Honestly you don't know why you hadn't thought of fucking him against your desk sooner.

While he does look absolutely gorgeous in lacy red lingerie, it isn't a sight you should get used to. He'd probably only wear it on special occasions or if he was really desperate for your attention.

Jackson

For some reason I can't imagine Jackson wearing panties for you that often. He'd be like Jaebum in the sense that he would only ever do it if he was really needy and desperate for your attention. The fact that he had just got back from tour was probably to blame for why he suddenly felt so needy lately, finally home and close to you. Unfortunately for him, you had been swarmed with work- coming home late and leaving early, barely having time for your affectionate boyfriend. He had finally decided that enough was enough, dressing in your favorite white panties and garter that showed off his thighs. Work had finally started to calm down so you were released early, but just as you were about to leave, you got a text from Jackson. You had originally thought that it was one of the mant sweet messages he had been sending you all week, telling you how amazing you were and how much he loved you, but your breath hitched in your throat as you saw the pictures he had sent you. The first was of him on his back, biting his bottom lip as he trailed his hand lightly over the front of the panties he was wearing. The second, which was your personal favorite, was of him on his knees with his face pressed into the mattress, ass facing the camera as he gripped his ass tightly in his hands, the garters he was wearing pressed tightly into the backs of his thighs. You bit your lip, suppressing a groan. You were going to absolutely wreck him when you got home.

It's honestly a shame that he wouldn't wear them that often, since he would look absolutely beautiful wearing them. That's why you always treasure the nights he does, making sure to have him last as long as possible, sometimes even overstimulating him.

Jinyoung

Let's be honest with ourselves, Jinyoung would look the best. I promise I'm a loyal Youngjae stan. But seriously, if he wore panties it would be over for you, because that ass would look good in anything. You almost dropped all the food you were holding when you had entered your shared home, stepping into the living room. Jinyoung had a confident little smirk on his face as he casually walked past you, only wearing a large hoodie that went down to his mid thighs. You could tell he was wearing your favorite pair of black panties since you couldn't see his boxers from under the hoodie. Your suspicions were only confirmed as he "accidentally" dropped his phone and bent over to pick it up, smirking to himself once he heard you groan and turned to see you staring directly at him. The little brat claimed he wasn't in the mood for anything with that annoying smirk across his face once you had set everything you were holding on the table and rushed over to him. You only managed to wipe the smirk off of his face after hours of teasing and edging.

You would never get a warning of when he's going to wear something like this, but he will do it very often. He knows that his ass is one of your favorite body parts of his, so he will try to show it off as much as possible.

Youngjae

Embarrassed babyboy #2. I don't think the lingerie would even be his idea- you probably bought it for him. Either way, there is no in between for this boy- once he puts on the lingerie he is going all out. Youngjae had been staring at himself for the past 30 minutes after putting on the lingerie you had left on your shared bed for him before you left for work. He let out a shaky sigh as he looked over himself one more time before glancing down at your make-up products with a small smile. You let out a tired huff as you closed the door to your house before you smiled excitedly, walking to your bedroom as you remembered the present you had left for your boyfriend. You were confused when you entered the room and didn't see him waiting for you. You turned to the bathroom, seeing the light on from under the door. You knocked on the door to make sure he was alright. He cleared his throat before telling you to sit on the bed and that he would be out in a second. You waited patiently, snapping your head towards the bathroom once you heard the door open. You bit your lip, looking him up and down as he stepped into the bedroom. You let out a quiet groan as you saw the dark red color on his lips which matched the panties that hugged his waist. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, telling him how pretty he looked before slamming him on the bed and fucking him so hard he had trouble walking the next day.

He'll only wear panties if you pick them out for him. He likes dressing up the way you tell him to, it makes him feel like you have complete control over everything he does. Also he would die of embarrassment if literally anyone saw him buying lingerie.

Bambam

Embarrassed? Bambam doesn't know the word. He probably wouldn't stop with just wearing panties. I could imagine him wearing some black lacy panties that don't leave much to the imagination, black thigh high socks, and garters, because this man would definitely be trying to show off his legs. You'd get home from work and call out for your boyfriend, confused as to why he wouldn't be sitting in the living room for your regularly scheduled movie night. As you were setting your stuff on the coffee table, you heard someone clear their throat behind you making you turn around. Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what he was wearing. He'd be leaning against the doorframe with a cocky smirk on his face, showing off everything he had to offer. Let's just say that movie night was forgotten about very quickly.

Let's be honest, dressing up for you like that is something he would do often. This man knows how beautiful he is and he's going to make sure you remember that.

Yugyeom

Another little brat. He knows how much you like seeing him dress up, so he will do it at the most inappropriate times. His favorite thing to do, however, is wear his pretty pink panties underneath his clothes in public, more often than not he'll do it to tease you. You had invited him to a business party that the company you worked for was hosting. The night had been going perfectly, until you saw Yugyeom stretch out of the corner of your eyes. You almost choked on your drink as you saw the familiar lacy pink fabric peek out from the waistband of his pants. Yugyeom noticed all of the frustrated glances you would send his way as you struggled to talk to your boss. A few minutes later, you had him pinned to the wall of a random bathroom with his panties shoved in his mouth to keep him quiet.

The only reason he ever really wears them is to tease you when he knows you can't do anything to him, hence why he likes wearing them in public so often. He loves when you bring him home and fuck him so hard he can't even remember his own name.

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ka-za-ri · 5 years ago

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Descent Pt. 7

Hi! I spent the last three days writing this chapter by smashing my head against the keyboard! I hope you enjoy! Also, SURPRISE! Lucifer!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Pairing: Simeon x Lucifer x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 6,200 ish Tags: Angst, Self harm/Self Mutilation, threesome F/M/M, Voyeurism, spitroasting Summary: Simeon asks for forgiveness and for a helping hand to finish his book.

Drip

He could ask for your forgiveness all he wanted, but you were under no obligation to give it to him. It was to be expected that you would pull away from him as soon as you awoke. It didn’t surprise him at all when you couldn’t bear to stand his touches. He deserved it for pushing too far.

He could ask for forgiveness, but God had long forsaken him.

Distance made the pain more tolerable. As long as he turned his mind off from everything else, he could imagine that it had all been a terrible dream that fueled his writing. If he focused everything he had to the sound of fingers on the keyboard, he wouldn’t have to think about the way you choked out his pen name, the despair in your eyes or the tears streaming down your face when you begged for mercy. He didn’t want to think about how shameful it was for him to be elated to see those desperate expressions from you.

He didn’t ask if your cuts and wounds were healing well. He knew they would. The inperceivable amount of magic he had used on you while you were passed out in his arms would ensure that. The only thing he wasn’t sure about anymore was his relationship with you and how you felt about him after what he put you through.

You managed to somehow keep things cordial. Despite what happened, you were both professionals in your field. Deadlines didn’t change just because of a botched session. You still had to read through his words and relive everything he did to you. It was mandatory to stay objective and help him create the most immaculate product possible. In the end, it was all about business and you had learned long ago to separate work from your personal life. It was just unfortunate that your personal life had also become your work with your current project.

The distraction of work didn’t stop the pain though. It didn’t stop you from waking up covered in a cold sweat every other night having dreamed of those dangerous dark eyes. You hadn’t gone to see him ever since that day, not like you really could. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to see him again. Work was piling up, the world around you kept spinning even if yours had stopped momentarily. Regardless of what your feelings were, you needed to run to keep up with the world and didn’t have time to think of yourself.

The scars he left behind healed well, they left no marks except for the invisible ones he carved into your heart that day. You could still feel the cold steel of the knife being dragged slowly across your skin, right at your ribs as he spelled his name, made you his and owned you for a brief moment in time. The cuts to the corners of your mouth and tongue healed remarkably quickly without leaving any blemishes. But the ghosting feeling of something cold and sharp never seemed to disappear along with the scabs.

Days melded into one another. You were able to bury yourself into work, wrecking whatever sleep schedule you normally had to distract yourself from reality. Piles upon piles of manuscripts all melted into one another and you slowly lost track of who wrote what along with the remnants of your sanity. The crinkle of paper as you turned pages was the last physical reminder that your reality was intimately tied to Simeon regardless of how much you wanted to get away from him.

Distance made things easier to bear. The need to stay separated was mutual. Simeon had a lot to reflect on and a lot to do. For the most part, his manuscript was done. The only thing he had left was the concluding chapter. He couldn’t bring himself to write it. Every time he put his fingers on the keyboard, he thought of you and everything you had done for him along with everything you did with him. His book had became an oddly intimate look at his desires and the inevitable end that he needed to write.

His eyes ached from staring at the screen for so long. The blinking cursor on the document taunted him. No matter how many times he wrote and rewrote, the ending wouldn’t come out right. He needed you the most, yet he could not rely on you when you were so far away. Toys had gotten him so far, but describing the intimacy of affection between two humans felt like an insurmountable task. There had to be away around it. The heavy burden of sin weighed on his shoulders as he warred with himself. His name, his reputation, all for the fall? It was impossible.

He had to see a way through it.

Until he could figure it out; he deserved every little bit of scorn you threw at him. Every passing day, hour, minute, and second that went without being in contact with you drained him. The color in his world slowly disappeared until there was nothing but the black text on white paper.

It started just at the corner of his vision. In his dark office, it was easy to ignore when his focus was on the words in front of him. It was easy to pretend nothing was wrong when he went to get a cup of tea. But, the change was definite and true. Soon enough, he wondered just when did he own so many mugs in various shades of gray.

Ah, so this is what it’s come to. I suppose it’s fitting.

He could feel his senses slowly seeping away from him, ashamed of everything he did. He held the facade of an upright and chivalrous angel, but internally he was a husk of himself. Somehow, he had managed to become a demon without falling from grace. He supposed it should have been considered a miracle. It meant that not all hope was lost. If he applied himself, then surely he could claw his way out of the hole he created.

If.

If only he cared enough to do such a thing. Living as a shell seemed to be so much easier than pretending he was immune to human temptation. In pursuit of a perfect craft, he lost himself to all the allure the human realm had to offer. Two steps away from the gates of Hell, there seemed to be no turning back. Sacrifices had to be made in order to obtain perfection. Perhaps selling his soul to the devil was the last option he had to achieve it. It would be a worthy price to pay.

Pain made it easier to bear the weight of sin. It wasn’t a modern method by any means, but it brought him closer to the light once more. He repented with every crack of the whip upon his back, every scar he inflicted on himself. For every drop of blood he shed, he returned to the good he dedicated so much of his life to. The injuries would heal within a day, but the lingering ache would linger across his skin. The pain made him forget you and remember who he was. He was good. He was good.

He was good.

The most poignant thing he learned in the world of humans was the emotion of fear. That deep terror within him stirred as he thought of losing everything he had with change. After centuries of living, Simeon never doubted his powers or his wisdom until he had his finger hovering over your contact number to call and beg you for help. His hand shook while he stared blankly at the screen in front of him. He was so close to the end, yet so far away from the one person who would get him there. He was better than this, but he didn’t want anything greater than what he had created with you.

His simmering desires for you convinced him to call while the last vestiges of his goodness prevented him from making the call. He lost track of just how many hours he berated himself mentally all the while staring at numbers on his phone screen taunting him to take those last few steps to Hell.

And then. A light in his darkness.

[SMS: Do you need help?]

You knew exactly why he had been ignoring all your emails and your attempts at contacting him. You had needed your own time to heal and process everything that happened. Nearly a month had passed without a peep from him and you sincerely started to wonder if Simeon was alright. He canceled an unprecedented number of appearances and interviews. The PR mess that followed from that was enough to make you lose a full week of sleep. You didn’t blame him though, after you left his home that night when the storm finally passed, he seemed so tired.

You didn’t want to push the issue if you could help it. The book was almost complete. You had read it so many times over in your editing you swore you had a majority of it memorized. With only the final chapter missing, you could predict where his story was going, and the man rarely ever strayed from his outlines. An intimate and loving scene with his protagonist and her love interest who saved her from the clutches of evil was in order.

With the nature of the subject and were your relationship had just taken a turn to, you weren’t surprised at all he hadn’t submitted anything to you. Three days before your final deadlines and he still hadn’t contacted you. It was so uncharacteristic of him to turn in his work late; you had to take the initiative to get him to finish on time. So, it was a fair amount of despair that you sent that text, asking him if he needed help. Even if you skin crawled just thinking about being touched by him, you needed to do your job.

You clenched your phone, waiting for the screen to light up, your knuckles turning white from the force of your grip. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Someone had to be the adult and take one for the team. With Simeon’s name being so revered, it was clear to you that the minor sacrifice of your comfort for one more session with him would be worth it in the end.

So why couldn’t you stop yourself from crying?

The way he lilted his voice when he chased you still haunted your dreams at night. No matter how many blankets you wrapped around you could save you from the chill of that dreaded cold knife he dragged across your skin. There was no point in distancing yourself from him. Despite what happened, he was good. Having spent years working with him, you were sure you had a firm grasp of who he was as a person.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do...”

[SMS: come see me when you can]

You let out an earth shattering sigh. Whether it was from relief or from fear, you didn’t know. What you did know that it would all be over soon. The stress of the book, the anxiety you felt about Simeon, the pain that spread across your chest every time you thought about him, all of it would be over as soon as you got to see him again and figure it all out in person.

There was a terrible little part of you that was so curious about how he was going to solve the last piece of the puzzle to his book. The only way to find out was to go see him.

“What a surprise. A call from the great Christopher Peugeot himself.”

“Listen.”

“I am. Go on.”

Simeon sighed, already regretting the call he was making. After receiving your text, he wracked his brain for a solution to the ending of his book. He was so close, he could feel it; but the guilt he felt towards you prevented him from taking what he craved. It was after much agonizing and staring blankly at a wall that the idea struck him. He’d have to take matters in his own hands and direct the ending himself.

For that, he needed an extra helping hand.

Which is what landed him in the situation he was in at the current moment. Bargaining with the devil to help him. He didn’t think he’d stoop so low to pull on old connections. Yet, there he was, on the phone with someone he hadn’t spoken to in decades.

“I need your help…” Simeon admitted, still struggling with voicing his needs.

“Well, I assumed as much if you’re making the effort to talk on a personal line. How long has it been since I gave you this number? Twenty? Thirty years, now?”

“Twenty-seven, but that’s besides the point.” Simeon could feel the inkling of frustration creeping into his voice. His old friend always had the ability to pull out the worst in him. Spending over half a century in the human realm, they managed to stay out of each other’s hair for the most part.

His friend chuckled on the other side of the line. “Alright, what can I do for you?”

“Are you free this weekend? I uhm… I need some help with the last scene of my book.”

“Oh? The great Christopher Peugeot himself needs assistance from me? I’m flattered you’d consider me.”

“Just call me Simeon, Lucifer. Stop playing around.”

“I’ll clear up my schedule. I wouldn’t miss the chance to help you.”

Simeon sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified that Lucifer agreed to help him out. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Oh, I know.” Lucifer was practically singing on the other end with smug excitement. “Should I prepare for anything in particular?”

“I… Uhm… I can explain when you get here.”

“Always the mysterious one...” Lucifer chided, chuckling softly. He didn’t push the subject any further and Simeon was glad for it. “From what I’ve seen from the press releases of your upcoming title, I can only assume I’ll need to wear my best underwear.”

“Do whatever you want. I’ll see you this weekend.” Simeon grumbled before ending the call. His face felt like it was on fire. He didn’t think he had hit rock bottom until he made an agreement with the devil.

It was truly unfortunate that the devil was the only person he could trust with this task.

“Oh, welcome! Come on in. We’ve been waiting.” The actual CEO of Akuzon was the last person you expected to see when you arrived at Simeon’s home that weekend. To say you were stunned was an understatement. You were stuck standing at the doorway, mouth agape and eyes wide, looking like a fool. It took a surprising amount of prying to get you to move past the door and into the home.

Simeon was already hard at work in the living room, typing frantically while Lucifer ushered you in. The grin on his face was full of mirth and amusement. It was clear he knew exactly the effect he had on people and he wasn’t pulling any punches when it came to throwing the weight of his power around.

“Simeon and I go way back.” Lucifer explained, taking a seat once he was sure you weren’t going to faint from shock. “When he asked me to help him out, there was no way I could deny him.”

Your words needed to catch up with your brain as the pieces started to clicked together. All you could manage was a lame “Ah.” You nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to confirm your suspicions.

Simeon finished typing and finally looked up. It seemed like he wanted to approach you, but he stayed put, unable to bring himself to get closer to you without your permission. “I cannot ask for you to trust me again. Not after what I put you through. I… I still need help with the last chapter of this book. So, I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but would you be comfortable with putting your trust in him?”

You blinked rapidly digesting what Simeon was proposing. You slowly turned your head to look at Lucifer who was casually lounging in his seat, his head resting on his propped up arm. A knowing smirk on his face while he waited for your answer. He practically exuded endless charisma and carried himself as every bit of the CEO he was. It was hard to deny his charm and you felt yourself nod before you could really process the gravity of your situation.

You hadn’t realized the anxious pressure in your chest relieve itself when your brain finally grasped the fact that you wouldn’t be at risk with seeing that side of Simeon again this time. This was a new partner, a new experience, a new touch, a good touch. You could do this.

There was still the hurdle of getting over being intimate with a man you had only seen in headlines. You expected that to be a rather difficult hindrance to the authenticity of the scene Simeon wanted to write. After all, it was supposed to be a soft and loving scene, nothing like what you had last gone through. Managing that with a stranger seemed to be a rather tall task.

Lucifer didn’t seem bothered by what he needed to do at all. Having been filled in with the gist of the situation, it was easy to slip just a hint of charm magic into his words to coax you out of your shell. He smiled, taking off the casual blazer he had on to reveal a perfectly fitted dress shirt hugged his frame in all the right places. Well, he doesn’t spare any expenses when it comes to looking good, no matter what the circumstances. Duly noted…

“Come here.” He beckoned, tilting his head and calling you over with just that motion.

Your body moved on its own, drawn to his aura, entranced by his name and his looks as well as his natural allure. When you locked eyes with him, it was as if Simeon wasn’t even in the room with you two anymore. The world faded away and you felt a warmth spread across your chest where the anxiety once was. He effortlessly made you feel safe somehow and you found yourself sitting in his lap without being asked to. He placed his arms loosely around you and the air between the two of you was absolutely electric.

You only noticed Simeon again when he walked over and adjusted his friend’s arms. He mumbled to himself as if possessed. He was present in the moment, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, writing his book while he posed the two of you in the ideal scenario. You could hear him come up with dialog on the fly, guiding Lucifer’s hands to your lower back to cradle you gently in his lap. With a little more direction Simeon had Lucifer rest his head at the crook of your neck. “I need you two to pretend to like each other… Please...”

You could feel Lucifer smirk against your skin, his lips just brushing against your pulse point when he spoke. “Oh, I won’t need to pretend to like her.”

You suppressed a shiver. Lucifer’s breath was so warm and his cologne was so cloying it made you feel rather lightheaded. There was an element of unspoken shame between the three of you. Allowing a stranger into what you had already established with Simeon felt so wrong. To do this with an old friend of his no less, there was distinct sense of sin about it the scene that felt rather right given the circumstances that lead up to it.

It was a blessing that Lucifer was so naturally handsome and mesmerizing. You were sure if it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have been so easy to feel at home in his lap. His long fingers playing at the hem of your blouse while he pressed soft kisses at your neck. If you remembered the sequence of events of the book correctly, the main character had just been saved by her ‘husband’ who happened to be an assassin given the same target at she had been. You needed to put yourself in the protagonist’s mind, pretend that the man in front of you was as precious as a spouse and as marvelous as a savior.

Lucifer fell into his role seamlessly, kissing your skin as if he had almost lost his most treasured possession. His embrace tightened just enough to draw you closer to him. It was easy to tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. The way his lips played across your skin was so tender and soft, you sighed in satisfaction just from his kisses. Instinctively, your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him towards you, encouraging him to keep going further.

You could hear Simeon typing on the other side of the room; the usually distracting sound of the keyboard was negligible compared to the sound of Lucifer’s breathing so close to you. His teeth nipped the shell of your ear and you shied away out of habit. He chuckled softly, licking your skin and humming in approval at your reactions.

You weren’t sure how someone so suave was allowed to exist. He was barely doing anything and you were absolute putty in his hands within an hour of meeting him. He had been completely correct, there was no need to pretend you liked one another. The innate attraction was there, all you needed to do was react to his lead. “Lucifer...” you breathed, testing how it felt to have his name fall from your lips.

The verdict? It felt right.

Lucifer glanced over to where Simeon sat, catching the heated glare that was fixed on him. He couldn’t help but beam in self-satisfaction, knowing that the angel very much wished to be the one in the scene and not him. He turned his attention back to you, eliciting more breathy moans out of you. He said he was going to help with the scene; he never said anything about being mindful of relationship between you and Simeon.

“I like those noises you make. Make some more.” He demanded, slipping his hand under your blouse to finally get a handful of your skin. His touch left a trail of fire across your nerves. It felt like it had been years since you were last this close to anyone; it only made you more receptive of anything he did to you.

Lucifer was meticulous in his ministrations. He made sure to take his time exploring you with his hands and lips before moving onto the next step. It was almost torture how slow he was taking it. By the time he worked the first button off of your blouse, you were ready to rip his shirt off him.

“Kiss...” Simeon said from his seat. His voice curt and short as if he was directing a scene from a movie. “Kiss her before you do anything else.”

Lucifer was quick to comply. He had been hesitant in claiming your lips with his own, but with the approval of Simeon, he lost no time in taking your breath away. With one hand at the back of your head to keep you steady, his lips brushed against your own, seeking tentative permission before he went further. The warmth of his body enveloping you so gently made you melt and accept his kisses eagerly. His tongue traced your lips before delving into your mouth, tasting you for the time.

You moaned, breathing deeply through your nose as he overwhelmed all your senses with just his lips and tongue. While one hand held your head firmly in place for him, his free hand caressed your cheeks, your neck and your collarbone. While he swallowed all the pretty little noises that came from the back of your throat, he continued to work off the buttons of your blouse. Your clutched onto his shirt, unable to break the kiss even if you felt your head spin from lack of oxygen.

By the time all the buttons of your blouse had come undone, you were a breathless, whimpering wreck for him. He pulled away and admired just how swollen your lips had become from all the kisses. “Beautiful.” he praised, making your whole body heat up from the simple compliment. “Think you can help me out of these clothes? It’s gotten pretty warm in here.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice to help him. As much as you wanted to savor the moment and really draw out the intimacy between the two of you; you were also desperate to see what he looked like under that dress shirt. You licked your lips at every inch of skin you exposed, your eyes glittered with glee as you uncovered his chest and abs.

As soon as his shirt was completely open, he went back to exploring your body with his lips. His kisses trailed down your neck, to your chest and right to the outline of your bra. “Ah, silly undergarments… They always get in the way of fun.” In one swift motion, he slid his hands under your bra, freeing your breasts and also divesting you of your top along with it as it went over your head and arms. For a second, you felt distinctly vulnerable under his gaze and moved to cover yourself, but his hands kept your arms at your side.

You squirmed under his touch, your brain completely blank as he lavished you with attention. Lucifer noticed the freshly healed cuts on your skin and made sure to give them extra affection. He did it partially to stay in character, but mostly to spite Simeon who was definitely fixated on the scene he orchestrated. He was getting too much enjoyment out of pulling the most lewd sounds from you all the while the angel watched, unable to participate. The control he had over the both of you was absolutely exhilarating and turned him on more than the kisses and fondling.

Lucifer pushed you to lay on the couch, settling himself between your legs and hovering over you. The opened ends of his shirt tickling your sides briefly before he leaned in and took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved at the sensitive skin, coaxing it into a perky little bud before moving onto your other breast and doing the same. By the time he was done with that task, you were sure that the knee he had pressed up against your crotch could feel just how wet you had gotten.

Looking down between the two of you, you were grateful to see he wasn’t completely immune to the scenario. The impressive bulge in his pants at least proved to you he was enjoying this as much as you were. Pulling him into another searing hot kiss, you tugged at his hair, rolling your hips against him. You didn’t care that Simeon was watching, with Lucifer, you could get what he would never give you. “Fuck me.” you whispered, barely believing you were making such a demand.

“With pleasure.”

The rest of your clothes came off in record time. The need for a release was almost unbearable. Just seeing Lucifer’s cock spring out of his boxers made your mouth water. You were more than happy to spread your legs for him, giving him all the access in the world to seat himself in you.

But, it seemed he had a different idea for you. Turning you to face Simeon on the other side of the room, he pulled you up to your knees and slid into you from behind, groaning as your cunt greedily accepted every inch of him with no resistance. “Let’s give him something to write about.” he suggested right before making you see stars with his cock.

Being filled with an actual dick and not a toy was an experience you had missed so much. There was nothing better than the warmth and the feel of a real cock sliding in and out of you. Toys could only simulate so much, nothing could compare to what Lucifer was giving you. “Oh… fuck.” You gasped, leaning against his chest for support.

His hand grabbed your hair, pulling you flush against him as he rammed his whole length into you over and over again. His breathing hitching every time you squeezed around his cock. “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl.” he praised. “Look at how hot and bothered he is.” Lucifer brought your attention to the author across the room. His fingers frozen across the screen as his eyes were glued to the scene you were creating with his friend.

You didn’t want to look, but everything Lucifer said was a command you could not disobey. Glancing over, you were blessed with the image of Simeon, blankly staring at what you were doing. His expression completely unreadable, but his eyes were dark from just how blown out his irises were. His hands that were supposed to be on the keyboard stroked his clothed cock in time with every one of Lucifer’s strokes.

The feeling of shame washed over you as you saw just how pitiful Simeon seemed so distant from the two of you. His heated gaze was fixated on the spot where Lucifer and you were so intimately joined. Lucifer continued on railing into you, his hand wrapped around your waist and teased your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your climax. You couldn’t even think about the guilt you felt in your gut as Simeon was forced to observe you. All you could focus on was just how good Lucifer was with his cock and how close you were to coming undone.

“Think we should let him join us?” Lucifer’s voice was like the devil on your shoulder, voicing all the things you couldn’t say out of embarrassment. “He’s always been bad at saying what he wants.”

You didn’t have time to respond as all the pleasure came to a screeching halt. Just as you felt like you were going to cum, Lucifer pulled out of you, making you whine and whimper in need. “I… what… I...”

The smile he gave you was soft, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. There was a devious glint in them while he waited for you to compose yourself.

“What? Why did you stop? What happened?” Simeon busied himself with sitting up straight again, hunching over his computer as if he hadn’t just been stroking himself to what was in front of him.

“I got bored.” Lucifer stated plainly, getting up and leading you over to the author who was furiously typing away, trying to the capture the scene he just witnessed. “I thought you might like to join in the fun...”

“That… that wasn’t the agreement.”

“I’m bending the rules a little.” Lucifer shrugged and gently pushed you down on your knees in front of Simeon. You crawled under the folding table he set up as a makeshift desk. It was a snug fit, but not entirely too uncomfortable. “I’m sure we can all benefit from a little more fun, right?” He laced his hand into your hair and gently, but firmly pushed you towards Simeon’s bulge.

You didn’t even need any encouragement to start working on freeing Simeon’s cock from the confines of his pants. The man above you couldn’t protest, the need to feel you and the need for release overriding his scruples he had worked so hard to maintain. “I… You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” You said firmly, licking your lips when you got your hands around his length and pulled it out, giving it an experimental pump. With just that simple touch, Simeon hissed and rolled his hips up to meet your hand. “And it looks like you want to, as well.”

“Let’s see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.” Lucifer encouraged from behind you. “If you do a good job, I’ll make sure to finish what I started.”

You were more than eager to wrap your lips around the tip of Simeon’s cock, licking and swirling your tongue around the tip. Your hand pumping the length of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth just yet. Simeon’s moan encouraged you to keep going, taking more of him into you until he hit the back of your throat. Lucifer’s hand in your hair was soon replaced with Simeon’s as he held onto you, setting the pace as your head bobbed up and down his cock.

You moaned into his dick, sending vibrations down his length and making him shiver. His grip in your hair tightened and he pushed your head further down his cock, wanting you to take all of him. With a bit of an initial struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you relaxed enough to take every inch of him with just a little coaxing. Soon enough, your nose brushed against his coarse pubic hairs every time he made a full pass down your throat.

“Amazing...” Lucifer breathed, lining himself behind you to enter you again. Just watching Simeon fuck your mouth had heightened the sexual tension in the room into something palpable. He timed himself to enter you at the same time Simeon was at his deepest down your throat. “Time for your reward.”

Your screams of pleasure were muffled by Simeon’s cock being stuffed into your mouth. Lucifer taking your cunt again made you nearly lose consciousness for a second. Simeon’s grip in your hair became almost painful as the two of them worked in tandem to fuck you senseless.

It felt like there was an unsaid agreement the moment the two of them started to move. As soon as Lucifer pulled out of you until just the tip of his cock remained in your pussy, Simeon would be fully seated down your throat. The moment Simeon’s dick slid out of your mouth just enough to give you a chance to breathe, Lucifer would ram his whole length back into you, making you forget to take a full breath before the cycle continued once again.

It was a dizzying experience and the orgasm that had been abated for the time being built itself back up to be something explosive. The two of them played your body like a toy meant for their pleasure. All your holes were meant to please them; and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Lucifer’s fingers once again found your clit, bringing you right up to the edge within a few passes of his digits across the sensitive nub.

“Cum for me, beautiful...”

His voice was magical, pushing you right across the threshold into your climax. You moaned into Simeon’s cock, causing him to also unload his cum down your throat. Even if it was hard to breathe, the lack of oxygen only seemed to enhance the high you had been brought to. Lucifer only needed to thrust into you a few more times before his own pace stuttered and he came, releasing his hot seed into you and completing the euphoric feeling of climaxing.

Simeon was the first to regain his senses, carefully pulling out his spent cock from your mouth. Even if you did your best to swallow all of him, some of his cum mixed with your saliva and dribbled down the corner of your mouth to your chin. He carefully wiped away what he could with his thumb before pulling you in for a kiss.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… Please forgive me…” He begged in between kisses. He could taste himself on your lips, something he didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he did. With every kiss, the color returned to his world, the grays that permeated his every existence faded the more time he spent with you. Without you, he wasn’t himself anymore; that much he learned.

Ah. So this is what forgiveness feels like...

Lucifer pulled out of you once he softened enough to do so. He was about to say something rather snide, but he also didn’t want to ruin the moment of reconciliation between the two of you. So, he decided to save it for later. He waited patiently for you to reassure him everything was going to be all right before speaking up.

“So, you think you got the scene?”

“Yeah… I think we got it. Do you think we can make the deadline?”

You looked up at him, feeling satisfied and elated in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

#Obey me #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me Lucifer #Simeon x reader #Lucifer x reader #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Smut #Obey me Fanfiction #My writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #we're finally getting to the super fun bullshit!#Shall we date obey me

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