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#It is midnight and I'm crying over my own writing
phoen1xr0se · 3 days
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yo, I was talking to one of my friends earlier about good omens fanfictions and he brought you up?
Turns out he was reading your fanfictions in one of the toughest times of his life (before we met) and it made him feel like he had to stay alive- Because he had to know how it ended.
I have his permission to send this in, however I wanted to add something:
Thank you for saving my best friends life. I love him so fucking much and I never would've met him if you hadn't had written fanfiction for the silly little show me and him bonded over.
...
Okay.
Right.
Hello.
When I first got this message last night, I had to put my phone down because... well, I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't even see the screen anymore, I was sobbing so hard. So I am sorry I didn't reply sooner. I had to process some Very Big Feelings.
I'm not sure, even now, I have the words to articulate what I'd like to say, so forgive me if this is a little messy.
I'm not exaggerating or being superlative when I say that writing that story saved my own life. It gave me a reason to stay, gave me an outlet for my grief, allowed me to write my suicidal ideation into something physical (the Pit) and therefore conquerable, by holding on to the knowledge of who you are, choosing who you become, choosing life, love, hope, over the darkness. If you had any idea how much of the story had been written at midnight with white-knuckled hands that reached for the laptop because if they didn't, they'd have reached for something else...
*shakes head*
(Am crying again, sorry)
So to have written this thing whilst clinging onto life with all that I had left, and then to hear that all my pain and trauma somehow gave someone else a reason to stay...
I can't. I... I really don't have the words.
I'd like you to tell your friend, though, that I'm not the person that saved his life, he is. He fought the Pit and won, we were just by his side.
Your friend is extremely brave, and I think also very lucky to have found a friend like you.
But as for thanking me for the story - you are so welcome.
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bookdragonideas · 2 months
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Toph should have been homeless.
A lone wanderer traveling across the Earth Kingdom. She would have taught metalbending to anyone who wished to learn. Beating up bullies and helping small towns recover and rebuild. Occasionally blackmailing one of the MANY world leaders who owe her into letting her crash at their place and eat all their food.
As she gets older she gets wiser. Becoming the Uncle Iroh to the younger generations. She's never as gentle as he was, but she remembers him fondly and never hesitates to dispense some cryptic wisdom on some hot-headed kid.
As years pass she stops wandering quite so far. Instead she stays for long months in the Fire nation or on Kyoshi Island. Occasionally she drops in on that new town/nation that Zuko and Aang are building. But she never stays for long.
She never marries. Never has kids. The rest of the Gaangs kids refer to her as Auntie Toph, and she loves them. But she decided long ago that she didn't want to be a mother.
She's there when Aang dies, holds Katara like Katara has always held her. Whispers to her that twinkle toes isn't gone. Not forever. He'll be back. He's the avatar after all.
She's there when Suki dies. Unable to save her in the heat of battle, unable to heal her afterwards. Sokka takes a few months to join her on her travels. She protects him, even as he fights with a recklessness that scares her. Suki would want him to survive.
Sokka calms down, goes home to his sister and his people and the white lotus. Toph keeps traveling.
She hears of her parents death. She spends the next week helping a lost child find his parents. And she visits the Boulder on her next trip through town. He much to old to be fighting her, but they rematch on the ring anyways. He mocks her the same way he always does and never says a word about her parents.
She gives him her parents wealth, he runs an animal shelter now and could use the funds.
She isn't there when Mai dies. Far on the eastern edge of the Earth Kingdom when the news of the Fireladies death reaches her. She takes Zuko on fieldtrip when she gets back to the Fire Nation. He owed her anyways.
They find Dragons.
The new Avatar emerges. A hot-headed young girl from the Southern Water Tribe.
She nothing like Twinkle Toes.
She's so much like Aang it hurts.
Katara is getting old. She hides it well but she's slower now. Not quite as fierce. Calming down as the years slip by.
Sokka dies and it rips Toph apart. He was her big brother. He died to save the world. She spends a few months with the sand benders. Spends a few more months deep in a swamp where occasionally she can still hear his voice. Once she hears Aang, sounding as young as the day they met.
Katare is so quiet now. She teaches the young avatar to heal. But not to fight. Saying that honor belongs to a younger teacher.
Honor make Toph think of Zuko.
She's there when he steps down and gives the throne to his daughter. It's a lovely ceremony. Afterwards they go on another fieldtrip. They find sky bison. Living wild and free in small island chains far from the mainland. Toph tells Katara who tells her children. And Airbenders fly with Sky Bison once more.
Katara passes peacefully in her sleep. Toph cries.
She goes on fieldtrips with Zuko every year now. Sometimes they find things. Sometimes they fight people. Sometimes they visit places that echo with memories.
The war was a horrible thing. Toph knows this. But a small dark shard of her heart is eternally grateful for Sozins greed. Without it she would never have known her friends.
The house on Ember Island lays in ruins now. The house Zukos family uses nowadays is smaller, more inconspicuous, a friendly little cottage.
They stay at the old house. Laughing when they find the rooms burned from when Zuko chased Aang. There's a small spot outside where the earthbent remains of Melon Lord stands. Toph can still remember Sokka's voice planning, Suki's light footsteps. Katara's fierce fighting and Aang hesitating before the final blow.
Zuko can't.
Zuko forgets more and more. Until the only thing they do on fieldtrips is go places. To remember. He asks where Uncle Iroh is. Thinks Mai is with them. Doesn't remember that his daughter is the Firelord now, not him.
A new threat arises. Zuko dies defending his nation and family. The world's mourns Firelord Zuko the great peace bringer. Toph mourns Zuko the awkward friend.
The new avatar dies. And Toph realizes that she doesn't know her own age.
The world is different now. There's so many new inventions. Toph thinks that Sokka would have loved to see this modern age.
A celebration for a hundred years of peace helps her remember her age for a few years.
Theres a new New avatar. A young boy from the sandbenders. His voice reminds her of Aang when she teaches him metalbending.
The next she hears of him is his marriage to some fire bending girl.
She spends time in the swamp, helps the swamp benders fight against those who would destroy the land. She gives council to the Sandbenders, as they seek independence from the rest of the Earth Kingdom.
She visits the house on Ember Island. It's part of a protected forest now.
She nearly kills a man on Kyoshi Island. He was telling a story of the end of the hundred year war. But he got it all wrong.
The four nations are no more. There are more than ten nations now. The Water Tribes split long ago. Three distinct Air Temples operate separately and with different principles and beliefs. The Republic continues to grow. The Sandbenders and Swampbenders are still sorting thing out, but they'll both be independent soon.
The two hundredth year of peace bring war. As tensions break and new weapons are being used. Bending is no longer the most powerful weapon out there.
The two hundredth year of peace bring war. But Toph is not there to see it.
Three years earlier she sits in a cave. She had spent the summer teaching some kids metalbending, and even just basic Earthbending.
It had been... nice.
But she's so tired now. She sits in the cave. There are no other people for miles around. But she's not alone. The memories of her friends, her family, weigh on her shoulders and echo in her her ears.
As she sits in the darkness she hears a sound. A quiet shuffling and then a loud crash! As walls are reshaped and her oldest friends find her.
Badgermoles live for centuries. And these Badgermoles remember her. They remember a small, scared little girl who was just like them.
In the darkness the Badgermoles snuggle close. Keeping her warm. Keeping her company.
Toph sits in a cave surrounded by Badgermoles cuddling her. Slowly she falls asleep.
She does not wake up.
Above the world goes on. War leads to peace leads to war leads to peace once again. The avatar lives and dies and is reborn, over and over again. History stretches larger and larger. Until the truth becomes legends.
Firelord Zuko, Avatar Aang, Chief Sokka and Warrior Suki, Master Katara the Mother of the Southern Benders. These names are preserved, remembered. Their stories become legends. Passed down from generation to generation. Written of in both fables and historical records alike.
The first ship to leave orbit is called Aang. To be a sokka is to be inventive. Hundreds of girls fighting groups are named after Katara and Suki.
Zuko the Tenth oversees the signing of a new peace treaty as the neutral party.
Only a few footnotes remember the Forgotten member of the ancient Team Avatar. The earthbender. A girl named Toph who disappeared from records shortly after the Hundred Year War, though rumors of her were recorded for nearly two centuries afterwards. Her story is a rather farfetched one. More likely she either died in the war or soon after. Perhaps, some optimists say, she settled down and lived a normal life afterwards.
Many centuries later a mining company makes a wonderful discovery. The ancient burial caves of the now extinct Badgermoles. But a mystery awaits within this archeological marvel. For nestled within the hundreds of Badgermole skeletons there lies a single Human skeleton.
She lies there alone, surrounded by Badgermoles. Almost as if she was one of them. Almost as if they respected her, honored her.
Loved her.
And in a small town, a blind boy hears a legend. A legend that inspires him. A legend of a girl named Toph.
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aaagustd · 4 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
2K notes · View notes
its-vannah · 2 years
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Sweet Nothing | Jacaerys x Reader
A/N: My goal is to finish this Masterlist by December, and I've got to say that this is one of the most wholesome fics on this whole list. I dearly loved writing it, and I hope y'all love reading it ❤️
Warnings: Childbirth, intense pain, labor, birth, lots of fluff
Midnights Masterlist
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Another restless night had gone by, with bouts of sickness and fever. Laying in bed, feet propped up, you tried to ease the pain in your stomach.
You were only eight months pregnant, but you felt as though the baby could arrive any day now. Praying to the Gods to give you another month, to ensure the safety of both you and your unborn child, you hoped they answered.
I found myself a-runnin' home to your sweet nothings
Jacaerys had insisted on being by your side throughout it all. He had instructed your handmaiden to care for your oldest son, Arewyn, while he tended to you.
Slowly opening the door to your shared chambers, he held a cold, damp rag in his hands. Standing at the side of your bed, he placed the rag over your forehead in an effort to break your fever.
That I'm just too soft for all of it
He sat beside you, gently running a hand over the curve of your stomach, a soft smile on his face, "I can hardly wait, my love."
You let out a content sigh, the baby kicking against his hand, "I don't think the babe can either."
Placing your hand on top of his, you guided him to the upper part of your stomach, "Just wait..."
A hard kick came, and Jacaerys released a breathy laugh, "A strong one we have, don't we?"
"Oh, I'm sure of it," You winced at the pain in your lower stomach, exhaling slowly, "Too strong."
"Any day now, my love, I'm sure of it," He said, pressing a kiss to your stomach, and then your forehead, "Is there anything I can do?"
You shook your head, "I don't believe so, but..."
I spy with my little tired eye
Pausing, you saw the door opening from the corner of your eye. It was slow, as if each push was a struggle.
Tiny as a firefly
Seconds later, a small boy peeked his head through the door, pushing his body through, his eyes wide as he saw you.
A large smile plastered on his face, he ran towards you, his feet slapping against the stone floor.
Desperately trying to get up on the bed, he motioned for his father to lift him up.
And smooth-talking hucksters
"Is the baby here? Can I see it? What's it's name? Is it's name Arewyn, too? Do we have the same name? What does it look like? Like me?"
The constant questioning typically drove those in the palace mad, but Jacaerys found it endearing. He remembered when Joffrey was that young, only three and full of questions.
Jacaerys grinned down at his son, lifting him into his arms and setting him on his knee, allowing him to face you.
You say, "What a mind"
"He has a mind of his own, doesn't he?" Jacaerys said, trying to tame his son's head of curls which he had seemingly inherited from his uncle.
Arewyn searched the room, "Where's the baby?"
You pointed to your stomach, "Not here quite yet, my love."
"When is it going to be here?"
"Soon, my sweet, have patience," Knowing fully well it was impossible for a four year old to practice the art of patience.
This happens all the time
Shaking your head, Jacaerys smiled, nuzzling his son's cheek, "Always asking questions, aren't you?"
"Tell me, Arewyn, where is Pia?" You asked, caressing his small cheek, "She was supposed to watch you."
Arewyn furrowed his brows, crossed his arms, and huffed, "She wouldn't let me see you and the baby. So we played a game. She hid, and I found her."
"So where is she?" Jacaerys asked.
He shrugged, "I didn't find her yet."
Everyone's up to somethin'
The two of you shared a look, shaking your heads, "He's too smart for his own good."
Feeling a sharp pain in your abdomen, you held back the urge to cry out, not wanting to scare your son. Suddenly, you felt warm.
Grasping Jacaerys hand, you shot him a look, "Go fetch the Maester."
He jumped up, Arewyn still in his arms, and promised he'd be back shortly.
-------------------------------
Every time you pushed, you felt a stabbing pain inside you. Although Arewyn's birth had hurt, you hadn't expected this birth to be worse.
They said the end is comin'
A fresh stream of tears cascading down your face, the maester promised it would be over soon.
Out glad-handing each other
Jacaerys held your hand, which was quite the fest itself with how hard you were gripping him, tighter with every push.
Nearly out of breath, you shook your head, suddenly dizzy, "I can't..."
"You should be doing more"
"You must, Princess," The Maester urged, "You need to push more."
Struggling to breathe, you kept pushing, crying out in pain.
After what seemed like hours, you heard the cries of a newborn baby, begging for it's mother.
The wetnurse lifted the babe, a smile on her face as she wrapped it in a blanket, "A boy, my prince."
Jacaerys smiled as she handed the babe to him, as you were too weak to hold him in your arms.
We almost forgot it
Watching as your husband rocked him slowly, back and forth, you nearly forgot about the pain.
The Maester sent a handmaiden to grab fresh linens as he tended to you, and she returned with not only the linens, but little Arewyn, too.
Outside they're push and shovin'
Rushing to your side, he struggled to climb on the bed. Using all his might, he gripped the sheets and sat cross legged beside you.
Attempting to lean over you to get to his brother, Jacaerys reached out a hand to stop him, "Careful, Arewyn. Your mother is still weak from the birth."
And the voices that implore
Groaning, Arewyn tilt his head to get a better look at the babe, a soft smile on his face, "Is it—"
"A boy," You answered, "We have yet to chose a name, my love."
"Then pick one," He urged, excitedly, clasping his hands together, "You can name him Arewyn."
Jacaerys shook his head, "That's your name. He needs a name of his own."
You gazed up at him, "Not quite a name of his own, but a memory of another."
It took him a moment to connect the dots, but once he did, he pursed his lips, "Are you sure?"
"I'm certain."
Jacaerys looked at your eldest son, turning the bay to face him, "Lucerys the second."
Arewyn smiled at him for a moment, before looking between his parents, "That's a long name. Can I call him Luc?"
To you, I can admit
Memories struck Jacaerys, of the times he and his brother had spent together, before he nodded, "I couldn't think of a better name."
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'
Before the births of your son's, you and Jacaerys shared a strong, beautiful love. And even after the addition of your heirs, that love continued, with only one difference. It was stronger. It was unconditional.
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thecapricunt1616 · 25 days
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Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)
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♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.
♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)
♡ W/C: 4,140
♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024
♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D
♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)
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♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦��𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡
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It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep. 
He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties. 
You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed. 
 Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes. 
That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to. 
Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds. 
Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom. 
You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt. 
You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips. 
“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you. 
The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently. 
The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust. 
You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys. 
“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness 
“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back. 
You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg. 
“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips. 
“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek. 
“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas 
He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly. 
His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him 
He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him. 
“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source. 
“Shit-“  he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you. 
“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly. 
“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 
“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty. 
Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it. 
“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders 
“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source. 
“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light 
“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes. 
“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him. 
“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot. 
“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected. 
“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips. 
“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head 
“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt. 
“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you 
“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted. 
You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had. 
“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down. 
“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm. 
“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit 
“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended. 
“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased 
He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained 
“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway. 
Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day. 
People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it. 
“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude. 
“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage. 
“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously. 
“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow. 
“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his. 
“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away. 
“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses. 
“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.  
You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly. 
“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern. 
“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me” 
You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm. 
“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit. 
“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so. 
“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously. 
“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly 
“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’ 
“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make. 
“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit 
“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently 
He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval. 
You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder. 
He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy 
“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently. 
“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”
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ilys00ga · 4 months
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𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.
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➞ pair: yoongi x reader.
➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.
➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.
➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)
ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33
★ MASTERLIST.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.
How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?
Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.
He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.
His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.
Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.
He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.
He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?
He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.
One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.
With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”
You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.
Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.
As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.
Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.
Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.
Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”
You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.
He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.
“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”
Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.
Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”
“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”
He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.
At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.
Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.
Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.
Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.
It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.
Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.
“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.
“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.
There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”
You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.
He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.
“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.
“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.
Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.
Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.
"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.
The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.
"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.
"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.
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the-marshals-wife · 23 days
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Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)
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─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watch it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.
Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746
Gif credit: user magnusedom
Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him
There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.
Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.
"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"
"Court!"
You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.
"May I come in?" he gestures.
You grab his arm and usher him inside.
"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.
"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."
"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.
"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"
"What?"
"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"
You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.
"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation," think again, buster."
He wraps his arms around your waist.
"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."
"I must be stunning then," you smirk.
He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."
The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.
"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"
"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.
"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in microwave."
"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.
"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."
He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.
Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."
He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.
"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"
You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"
"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."
"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.
"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."
He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.
"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."
He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."
Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.
"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."
"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.
"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."
You stare at him wide-eyed.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."
"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."
He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"
You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.
"Come away with me, Y/N."
He takes your hand in his.
"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."
His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.
"Well, when you put it that way," you say.
You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.
"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.
"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"
"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."
"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.
Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.
Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.
"How much time do we have?" you ask.
"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.
"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"
"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."
You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?
Old life. The thought makes your head spin.
"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."
"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."
"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."
All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.
He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.
"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.
"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"
He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."
"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.
"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.
"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.
"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."
You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."
"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.
You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.
"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.
"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.
You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.
"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.
Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.
He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."
You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.
"Shut up and help me pack."
He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.
"Yes ma'am."
91 notes · View notes
demigod-of-the-agni · 8 months
Text
#LongPost: A Few Hyper-Specific Things About India for India-Based Stories and Art
No this isn't a cry for more Indian-rep in Spider-Verse stories. (It is.)
Anyway. I recently went to India, and after returning to my hometown in Tamil Nadu, I reintegrated a whole slew of memories and collated new facts.. And considering I've been wanting to do one of these for quite some time (and because I need a new variety of Pavitr Prabhakar content), I thought it'd be cool if I shared some of my experiences and ideas with you.
It's best to take this with caution, though: the only places I've been to are Tiruchirappalli, Madurai, and a few towns located close to the Eastern Ghats, so my knowledge is heavily South India-based. I know for a fact that there are various similarities and differences between other geo-cultural areas of India, which is I why I've linked the other cool India Resources here as well.
In Which I Ramble About Pavitr's Character Design and the Indian Cultural Stuff Related to It by @chaos-and-sparkles (+ my addition + @neptune432's addition)
A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately by @summer-blues-stuff (+ my addition + @fandomsfeminismandme addition)
Also a timely reminder of @writingwithcolor's wonderful resources on writing about South Asian characters respectfully and sincerely
Now, for the things I've noticed in South India..
ANIMALS
There are a lot of street dogs. Like... a lot of them. And honestly it's so hard not to go up to one and give them a snack or two. The most notable dog breed is the Indian pariah and they can be found all over India. Mixed dog breeds are also common and results in a variety of features like differences in build and coat colours.
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There are also other types of animals are pretty common to see alongside the roads.
Cattle are seen a lot (cows and bulls are easy to distinguish; cows (left) have udders and a small hump on their back, while bulls (right) are generally stockier and have a super-defined hump on their back). I'm pretty sure the specific cow breed is the sahiwal cow. They are either herded into paddocks for grazing or can be found wandering city streets on their own.
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Goats are often herded by farmers into large masses of wool and horns and are guided to paddocks to graze. Sometimes, like cattle, they'll be found wandering city streets on their own.
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Chickens are usually kept close to stalls and homes. These chickens are not plump and fluffy like most Western chickens, but are quite skinny. Mottled feather colours are usually a result of mixed chicken breeds. In Tamil Nadu, the most common chicken breed is the asil chicken.
Various birds are often seen flying around traffic if they’re not disappearing into the sky, the most common being crows, pigeons and mynahs. (The chart below on the right is not an inexhaustive list of birds; you best search them up yourself.)
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TRANSPORT
There is obviously a huge amount of trucks and lorries and buses. They all have beautiful designs or crazy LEDs or large detailed fluorescent / iridescent stickers that are impossible to ignore, whether it be at high noon or midnight.
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Expanding on that, the most common method of transport are motorcyclse or scooties, cars, and autos.
Also, as expected: traffic is insane. It’s horrible. It’s exhilarating. Western honking is akin to swearing, but here? Honk whenever you want. Honk if you’re happy or if you’re sad. You get a million dollars if you honk. You need to honk. It’s more important than breathing
Similarly, road rules don’t exist. Well, they do, and the Indian government does everything it can to make sure people do follow the rules, but based on the aforementioned honking, most people don't. Everyone just drives. Most bikers and motorcyclists don’t wear helmets. Only a few people wear seatbelts. Cars and motorcycles drive on the wrong side of the road and right into oncoming traffic. The chance of someone dying is 99% but it’s countered by desi stubbornness.
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ENVIRONMENT & INFRASTRUCTURE
Houses and buildings are painted different colours!!! Pastel pinks and purples and deep teal hues, either plain colours or decorated with elaborate murals. This also applies to interiors. I reckon it was surprising to a lot of people when they were confronted with Mumbattan's vibrant colours, but honestly: coloured buildings slap, and it's based on the real thing. They are a sight to behold. Couple that with the architecture and oh boy- you've got such a beautiful environment.
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From @jettpack's concept art for Mumbattan buildings
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jettpack's concept art of the Mumbattan collider
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From @chenfelicia's concept and colour keys of Mumbattan
Don't be shy to really immerse in crazy descriptors - that's how you capture the liveliness of cities like Madurai and Mumbai and ultimately, their physical manifestations like Mumbattan.
Funny enough, movie posters and political banners and flyers are EVERYWHERE. They’re huge and take up entire billboards, or congregate along walls so it becomes practically a collage. It's impossible to ignore the image of "Makkal Selvan" Vijay Sethupathi about to beat some poor loser into a pulp with a stick, or the political parties roasting each other on paper with impressive photoshopped graphics.
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To tie in to the point about transport: there are hundreds of coffee stalls and snack shops and one-of-a-kind food stands. You can’t go 200 metres without running into one, either on the highway or in the city. I remember having jaggery coffee on my first night in India, and guys- it tasted so fucking good. I only wish I can transfer the taste to you. Absolutely splendid.
The climate in India is generally very humid and warm, but that doesn't mean we don't get cooler days; it is obviously cooler on winter nights. Also I've heard from many conflicting sources on India's seasonal weather (probably due to India's geograpghy), so you will have to talk to someone who is from India to really confirm. I've somewhat boiled it down to five seasons:
Summer - May-Jun; very hot (35-45ºC/95-113ºF), characterised by shrinking water bodies and droughts if there aren't any rainfalls; this time is good for plant growth/harvest if you've successfully managed water supplies
Monsoon - Jul-Aug; (34ºC/93ºF) very variable in terms of timing, characterised by torrential rains and floodings; the raining itself probably lodges somewhere in Jun-Sept but the aftereffects are felt long after the rains have stopped
Autumn - Sept-Nov; cooler but humid (25-35ºC/77-95ºF), and generally much drier since it transitions from autumn to winter
Winter - Dec-Feb; much colder, but the extent is dependent on geographic regions (20-25ºC/68-77ºF)
Spring - Mar-Apr; humid (33ºC/91ºF), sudden downpours, only occasionally do you get pleasant weather in this time
PEOPLE AND CULTURE
For some reason, there are still loud speakers blaring out music across the roads and as far as a few city blocks. I honestly thought that that had died out by the time my parents had graduated university, but it still seems like people like hearing music played at 120 decibels.
This is a complicated issue but people are not piss poor. Yes, India is a developing country, and yes there are slums and there are homeless and there are those who are stuck in a horrific sociocultural cycle, but people are rapidly getting into high-paying jobs at much higher rates than before. Overall, India is getting better; do us a favour and not have us be represented by the same poor struggle-riddled Indian stories that Hollywood and Western media is are fond of portraying.
@neptune432: One thing I think it's important to acknowledge though is how your experience in India changes depending on your caste. I feel like most of the indian voices talking online are savarna (I'm not an exception) so this doesn't get brought up as much. It's a complicated issue and one that I don't think non-indians (or savarna indians) should worry about tackling in their work, but it's worth saying because what's assumed to be everyday aspects of indian culture are actually specific to things like caste, class, and what region you're in. ex: in kerala, there are also examples of people eating on banana leaf with lots of vegan food for special occasions (namely during onam). but veganism is heavily tied to brahmanism so most of these people will be savarna. even if they eat meat otherwise, the specific interest in eating vegan for special occassions has clear implications. Though many people of different castes eat meat, it's a practice that gets discriminated against, being treated as barbaric and unclean. this is because of brahmanism and is usually only strictly followed by brahmins. dalits/bahujan usually face the worse treatment for their eating traditions. there's also the fact that hinduism is more of a recent term and a broad umbrella where many different gods and cultures have been put under (and usually done forcefully). a lot of local dieties and specific cultural practices come from outside the vedic traditions of aryans (upper caste north india), but now are treated almost as one thing. ex: kali is a south indian (dravidian) goddess who's still heavily worshipped there and who later got adapted to brahminical traditions. that's also why south indian practices of worship are different from the north and are discriminated against ex: north indians getting angry at the idea of worshipping kali by drinking alcohol and smoking even though it's an older tradition than theirs. these traditions are often connected to dalit/tribal cultures as well, which adds to why these traditions are attacked. Now, I don't feel comfortable with non-indians writing about india in general but I feel it's important to mention these things cos most people don't even realize they're only getting shown certain perspectives. How many people don't even know they're a north/south divide, for example? People are fed narrow viewpoints on India and assume that's everything to know. it's a problem cos that's what the brahminical forces in india want. This is all very general info too and I'm no expert so it's worth more research (like reading what dalits have said on their experiences). I'm not trying to criticize you btw, I just wanted to add some things cos this has been on my mind for a long time now. Couldn't have said it better myself, neptune!! (I barely mentioned it at all lmao) The caste system despite it being "abolished" still defines many traditions within India, and almost always in harmful ways. Like @summer-blues-stuff and I have mentioned in their post A culture post for the girlie pops under the Religion and caste section, it's best to leave the caste and social hierarchy alone even if you've done your research. That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it, it's just that people, especially those of non-South Asian decent, have to be extremely careful about it. Introductory resources on the caste system can be found on ABC, Pew Research and The Conversation.
Furthermore, the automatic assumption is that people living in shacks or remote villages have no access to greater populations and resources, which I'm happy to completely disprove. Guys: majority of the people living in my village, a rather remote village, have phones on them. Ranges from iPhones to Androids to good ol' Nokias.
(And, side note: as an Indian, I get amazingly pissed off when people's ringtones are set to maximum volume and play the same famous part of a famous song every time they get a call. Like shut the fuck up. At least quieten down? Please??)
(Also this might be a South Indian thing but Man some people are so entitled. Dudes you do not need to rub your ego into my face. Dudes you can, you know, keep all the cool things you think will get other people jealous out of the public eye. At this point I'm not jealous of what you Have, I'm pissed off at the Audacity To Think You Can Make Me Feel Bad About Myself With The Things That You Have).
Alright. Moving on.
Tiny temples and shrines are everywhere, dedicated to broad-Hinduism deities like Ganesh, Shakthi, or Vishnu; other times, they are shrines built for local deities that protect a particular village. For example, my village dedicated a little plot of water-logged land to a benevolent spirit called Subbamma, where people would leave offerings or place their sick/injured animals at the water's edge so that Subbamma could heal them. These tiny temples are almost always super colourful and amazingly detailed despite their small size
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It could be a whole month before a celebration like Diwali but it’s the perfect time to set off hundreds of fireworks and firecrackers. People are just inconsiderate in many ways, it seems.
Some women wear strings of jasmine flowers in their hair. This might be completely regional-based, but most if not all women, ranging from little kids to old ladies, will wear these strings of jasmine in their hair. It's supposed to represent good fortune and beauty, and it smells wonderful.
@esrev-redips: #i usually only visit the north side of india (went to banglore and or chennai once) but im pretty sure most women in mumbai wouldnt wear #flowers in their hair unless they were of an older generation #they dont in new delhi at least and i t h i n k you can compare them but im not sure since i dont live in india either Thank you esrev!!!!! glad to see an old hunch be confirmed!!!
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Normally you can wear any type of jasmine, but the common subtypes in Tamil Nadu are ஜாதிமல்லி (jathimalli; "Spanish jasmine"; left) and மல்லிப்பூ (mallipoo; right).
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Eating food from a plate made from a banana leaf is more than just an aesthetic, and is often reserved for certain occasions; other times we eat from metal or ceramic plates. I can't vouch for other areas of India but I've been told the reason why banana leaves are predominantly used for large gatherings is because they can signal to diners if the food is rotten or has been poisoned; supposedly the leaf itself starts rotting and releases liquid, but I personally have never seen this happen. But of course, there are also other reasons as to why banana leaves are used (all of which are valid) ranging from being an eco-friendly disposable plate, offloading nutrients into food, or even to make the food taste better. Pick whichever reason you like.
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I'm literally so hungry looking at this. (Realises this is a Pavitr thing to say.) Anyway.
FOOD RECS!!!!!!
Reblog with your favourite foods >:) The list will be routinely updated...
JAGGERY COFFEE (from me) - GOOD FUCKING STUFF. ACTUALLY. if you see it.. GET IT IMMEDIATELY
PANI PURI (from @esrev-redips) - #also you forgot to mention the PANI PURI STANDS AHHHHHH YUMYUMYUM | RRRR YOU'RE SO RIGHT. PANI PURI FOR LIFE ACTUALLY.
JASUBEN PIZZA (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - okay this is specific to Ahmedabad | okay but as specific as it may be that sounds and looks delicious??? hello??????
DABELI (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - this too???? also it LOOKS wonderful i need it right now actually
VADA PAV (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - Also Vada pav from Mumbai is so one of a kind | you are absolutely correct. vada pav is truly something magnificent
I think that's about all I can give you right now. This took me a while to type out. Feel free to ask any questions, or if you have anything you would like to add on, like anything I might have glossed over or your favourite desi foods, please do!!! I'll be sure to reblog your addition and update the original post.
The point is that this post can become one of those few other reference posts that artists and writers and other creatives can use if they ever want to make anything related to India, because it's genuinely so cool to see your culture represented so well in popular modern media.
(And in fanfic and fandom. Especially in fanfic and fandom. you have no idea how many times I've gone insane reading a Pavitr-centric fic or reading comments on Pavitr-related posts and it's just outdated ideas and harmful stereotypes and all sorts of sick bullshit, and it's always to the point where I physically have to go outside and bite into a fresh rhizome in order to ground myself. Like damn, people, you need to know things before you start creating)
So uh, I hope this was helpful if not interesting! Happy early Diwali everyone! Knowledge-over-ignorance and all that; hopefully this post does that notion justice!
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toxicanonymity · 3 months
Note
Hey, this person has directly credited you as their ideas for their character bots
https://poe.com/pedroxo
[ Background: an account made AI bots of my fics and others to various extents. I had an anxiety attack quietly watching Tumblr melt down over this topic. When the dust settled, this post was the first and last I said about it to address continued inquiries. ]
unauthorized AI Bots of fics
Thank you everyone who kindly let me know about the >25 unauthorized bots using content from my fics.
Listen, I strongly relate to the desire to talk to these characters - I've said it before. I appreciate how invested someone must be to go to all this effort, and I appreciate the credit. But it's not right and I'm not comfortable with it. You may not realize what it feels like to the writer. It feels like a violation.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the first incident for me. Someone once made a bot of my fic 4 days after I publicly said not to in response to an ask. I didn't find out until it had almost 1k "chats" and you'll see I use that term very loosely under the cut.
I've said don't do this, and it's in my masterlist. I've even shared my anxiety about being so slow to update that people take matters into their own hands. I'm not really sure what else to say. I'm tired.
Please don't do this. And when you see chatbots built on fics, please alert the writers.
IMPORTANT The bots are down. I don't want the person to be harassed - i think that's obvious based on my tone from the start.
Beyond these, there were more bots from night walks, slasher, and stepdad, ones from Raider and Speakeasy and even a few from hypotheticals I published like when stepdad goes to jail for indecent exposure or when you aren't getting wet for raider joel.
Night Walks: Original, Soaked
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Left in Lincoln pt. 1; jalbird
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Slasher: Midnight Tow, Stop Playing
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Stepdad: Clock, Ring Doorbell
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Sorry I was too overwhelmed to do the IMG text on each of these but it's basically just snippets from the works listed.
After being contacted, the person copied and pasted a message to multiple writers saying they were sorry, didn't know what they were doing, were deactivating their acct. They asked to spread their message, and said have an amazing day/night.
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Past Incident
IMGs: 1) I answered an ask August 16 saying no. The asker had "offered" to credit me. 2) August 20, someone made a bot without credit. This is worse imo and suggests trying to hide their actions.
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I told a lot of people about this, but it was an isolated bot unlike the profile discovered 2/23.
IMG: comparison of left in lincoln text to the bot.IMG: A seven paragraph narrative bot output. Obviously failed my test if you've read the fic.
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ANYWAY
If you're not already on ao3, I recommend signing up. This isn't a threat to leave, but I may not put everything on Tumblr forever. My AO3 profile.
Edit: I like tumblr because I like answering lore and questions and getting thots, plus my blog is very multimedia with many awesome contributions from different people. Please help keep it that way, because your interaction is why I'm here. I value everyone's engagement here.
For many reasons, I'm less and less comfortable with Tumblr being the primary home for all my writing. I'm aware people can still take things from AO3, but not as easily. I'm trying to be nice by preemptively suggesting people sign up on AO3 if they want to read everything. If it's not worth the trouble to you, just don't do it.
----
Ty very much to those who have been supportive and checked on me. It means a lot. I will admit this made me put on a hat and cry in public lol.
feel free to rb this because idk if everyone realizes the extent of this or how jarring it can look.
134 notes · View notes
fillinforlater · 1 year
Text
FEAR----
Male Reader x Huh Yunjin (ft. Chaewon)
Length: 2420 words
Tags: con-non-con kink, change in pov, piss kink, water sports, public sex, choking, gagging, a kinky robbery, humiliation, crying, name calling, missionary, messy make-out, all the bodily fluids, roleplay, dacryphilia maybe, misattribution-of-arousal-kink!Yunjin
TW: cnc kink, water sports (pee), (role)playing with fear
Inspiration: ffs, I have no clue why my brain comes up with these. Maybe I'm just insane? Or stupid? Or too horny for my own good?
(A/N: yeah, I think I will have to take a break after this. Something very different will come up next, but I still need time to write it lol, so please be patient. For those that love these kinks, you're welcome, I won't write them (especially water sports) often.)
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"What are you thinking about right now?"
Chaewon’s quiet, tender whisper is calming like a cool breeze in blazing summer heat. It takes you out of your short trance, which you spent gazing at the ring on her finger. You look into her concerned eyes, then towards her blonde friend at the bar. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you set down the untouched cocktail.
"You know I like the idea," you start your rant, hoping it removes the uncertainty burdening your heart, "and I know you're completely fine with it. But the more I look at her—I just don't know if she knows what she really wants. You get me?"
"I think I do. Hmm,” Chaewon ponders for a second, caressing your palm, "Look, how about we ask her right now."
She turns around and with a wave of her hand she gets her friend's attention. The young woman quickly walks over, a bright, beautiful smile on her features. She stops next to your wife and straightens her postures when she looks at you. Before she can greet you, Chaewon whispers a long message into her ear. It makes her face sweaty and redder with each word.
"So," Chaewon loudly announces at the end of her explanation,"what are you thinking, Yunjin."
"I—"
Yunjin locks eyes with you. Her hands fidget, her upper body tenses up and her breath responds to her increased heartbeat. You can almost see the small muscle in her chest throb. She hesitates, even with Chaewon's reassuring smile and strokes on her back. Before you can speak up however, Yunjin's firm answer catches you by surprise:
"I still want it. I don't know what else to say, but I really want this and I don't care about the dangers."
"Alright," you respond blankly, though slightly in awe of Yunjin's clarity, "I appreciate your trust."
#
It's way past midnight when Yunjin leaves the area around the well-lit HYBE building to walk home. Dark, narrow corridors in between cold, lifeless concrete buildings are her choice, as she is eager to get to her flat quickly. Yunjin will always sacrifice a bit of lighting for effective short cuts. With her cell phone as a flashlight in one hand, her Louis Vuitton bag in the other, she confidently finds her way in this now well-known maze.
At night, she doesn't have to be extra careful about someone noticing her or the song she hums. An unreleased track, self-composed, with lyrics that have meaning to her and the other bandmates. At night, Yunjin is free to sing those words and feel a bit of burden fall from her shoulders.
A gentle breeze makes her blonde hair sway off of her shoulder and the loose jacket flies along with it. Yunjin has to stop in her tracks to adjust the leather garment. It's this time of the year where it's warm enough at night that you don't really need any extra clothes. However, each cold wind reminds Yunjin that it's good to have something on her. She can't allow herself to get sick.
It's also the time of the year where almost every night sky is littered with dazzling stars that dance on their designated spot, billions of miles away. It's a spectacle, each and every single one of them, so similar yet so different. The human eye cannot escape from this beauty, and Yunjin is no different. She stands there, star struck, the white lights dancing on her irises like it’s the parquet of a musical. Yunjin hums the melody to their performance. 
The bushes behind her rustle once. A dark figure shots out from behind them like a lightning bolt. Yunjin gasps and quickly looks behind her shoulder to see a black ski mask right in her face. Her ensuing scream is muted by a cloth forced into her mouth. She tries to escape, but the person is just too fast. Yunjin is grabbed at the top of her dress and forcefully shoved into a nearby wall.
“Money?” the figure asks in a cold, rough tone. Yunjin tenses up when she feels freezing metal run up her exposed thigh. Her eyes tremble in fear, even more so her legs. She is only held upright by the man's hand and his leg trapping her in between dead concrete and death personified. 
The man tears on Yunjin’s dress and groans angrily. Yunjin is too scared to test his patience, so she shakes her head. Her lips lose all their moisture to the cloth in her mouth, but maybe it’s just traveling to her eyes, to her sweat glands and down low.  
“Not even in that bag? Not even at home?” the man continues to ask. He guides the metal object further up, right to Yunjin’s core. A few swipes on her bundle of nerves make the young woman burst out into tears. It’s certainly not a knife that he is holding. The death bringing object right on her most private part makes her flinch, head shaking rapidly. 
The man grabs her face roughly. It’s like a slap he stopped as soon as he felt her skin. It reassures that the cloth won’t fall out of her mouth. The man groans once again. With small kicks against her shoes he forces Yunjin’s feet further apart. He then leans in right next to her ear.
“I know that you know what this is,” he whispers and presses his gun against Yunjin’s pussy, she wails, “and if you don’t tell me where the fuck I can get my money—tell me, or else.”
The flow of Yunjin’s tears is like an endless waterfall. Her hands are pleaing, begging, showing that she has nothing. No possession at hand, no money, maybe the bag is worth something, but the man does not seem interested in that. He wraps one hand around her gentle, fragile throat and slowly pulls out the gun from underneath her dress. She can look right into the barrel. There is a bullet waiting at the back, her name on it. 
This is it. Everything inside her is building up to this moment. Her body reacts the only way it can, the only way it knows how to, the only way she wants to. Instead of the bullet hitting her, the man shoves his knee in between her legs and pushes up. Yunjin screams against the gag, her fingers dig into her attackers back as she starts to pee violently. The clear stream immediately soaks her thin white panties, then runs down her pale, goosebump covered legs and begins to soak her shoes and his pants. The dark spot seems invisible on his dark pants, but he definitely feels and hears Yunjin’s eruption. 
“Bitch, what the—how dare you!” 
The man pulls out his knee and closely watches as the last sprays of Yunjin’s pee cover the dry asphalt below. He doesn’t even notice the gag falling out of Yunjin’s mouth as she makes no attempts to scream for help. She feels like all her dignity is stripped from her and sobs uncontrollably. Snot and salt water with small hints of make-up mess up her beautiful face, but she doesn’t cover it up. She still holds on to the back of this cruel stranger.
“Bitch, you are crazy.”
“Pl-please d-don’t ki-kill me.”
“Shut up,” he snarls and presses his gun against her panties again, “slowly take them off, or else..”
Yunjin’s throat is dry. Her sobs begin to sound like croaks as she leans down and grabs the wet lingerie. In the most embarrassing performance of her lifetime, she drags down her panties, feeling her own clear, barely gold liquid on her skin. She steps out with one leg, then the other, and both times the man kneads her thighs for a short time. Another breeze flies through her hair, but this time she only notices it because of the freezing touch on her wet core.
“Wring it out. With one hand, right onto the street.”
Yunjin closes her eyes as she closes her fist around her panties. They worked like a sponge and now all of her piss shoots out of the gaps in her hand. She is mortified by how the warm liquid feels on her hand. 
“Fuck, you’re insane,” the man says with awe and amusement and grabs Yunjin’s hair. He yanks her across the street, into the bushes where he came from. Behind them is a small patch of grass, where Yunjin is forced to lay down and spread her legs. She whimpers ‘no, no’ repeatedly, but the threat of the gun is right there, in his hand. Now it’s next to her head as he opens his zipper. 
“Pl-please don’t,” she whispers and her fist forms tighter. It draws even more pee from her panties.
“What’s your name?” the man coldly responds, fishing out his hard cock. 
“Yunjin.”
“Do you want to die, Yunjin.”
“No, please, no!”
“Then shut up—and do it again.”
Yunjin has no idea what he meant by this last statement. However, when he shoves his entire, surprisingly large cock inside her hot cunt, she doesn’t even remember it anymore. To pee in front of a stranger was pure horror, but this takes it to another level. If it weren’t for his hand on her mouth, not even the fear of death would have stopped her from screaming at this feeling. Pain, pain that feels great, fantastic, orgasmic even. Yunjin’s head begins to spin and her eyes roll into the back of her head.
“Hng, fuck,” the man groans and leans down to Yunjin’s face, “Yunjin, you’re fucking pretty. Great to have met you.”
A sinister laugh as he begins to bite the skin on her cheek and then on her shoulder. It’s not enough to leave marks, but definitely enough for Yunjin to feel something other than the cock hammering her pussy. It’s enormous size and width stretch her out more than any of her toys did before. Her flailing legs begin to go numb.
Suddenly, the man pushes his lip-sealing fingers into her mouth. He plays with her tongue, while hitting just the right spot inside her over and over. As she yelps, Yunjin comes to a shocking realization. The water on her face is not just tears, but also drools from the heavy pounding. Her mind becomes blank every now and then. It feels insane, better than anything she tried before. Something is building up in her lower regions and this filthy criminal gets her filthy pussy closer to another release. 
“Do it again, Yunjin,” he huffs into her face while retrieving his fingers from her mouth again— “I know you’re a kinky slut. Do it, or else.” —and wraps them around her delicate throat. Simultaneously, he begins to make out with her drooling mouth and press down on her throat. Yunjin screams into his mouth. Her body has given up. It’s completely resigned to him, but her mind is tormented by the inevitable. 
He hits the right spot, and her bladder is still so full. No, she can’t let it happen. She’d rather die and drown in her own spit and snot. It’s so humiliating, so bad, but at the same, her dopamine level has never been this high, it’s good. It will happen, it will happen, he just needs to tip her over, please tip me over.
“Or else. Now.”
The moment he stops fucking her tight cunt, Yunjin starts to piss again. A violent, clear stream erupts from her and she waters the grass and bushes around her like a gardening hose. Her hips buckle up, but she doesn’t feel his manhood anymore. She opens her teary eyes and sees the man's cockhead above her abdomen, unloading his warm, sticky semen all over the dress. 
Gooey white and runny light-yellow still shoot out of their bodies, but the two are entangled in a sloppy kiss with no care for the mess they are making on each other and the grass below. This might be someone’s property and they will surely notice. Not that Yunjin really cares, as her tongue is thoroughly sucked on and her limbs feel numb from the pleasure filled violation.
Suddenly, he reaches for the pee-soaked panties in her firm grasp. He guides her pale legs together and forces the undergarment up to her still twitching pussy. Yunjin gasps at the sensation of stained, wet clothing forced upon her. She loves how he continues to rub his thumb on her now covered clit and stares at her face, stupid from his attack. 
“Kinky slut. Now fuck off. No cleaning until your home. Or else.”
#
Quiet. Not a single sound. You’re able to close the door behind you without it creaking. Your wife will probably be asleep by now, but you want to make sure it stays that way. Carefully remove your shoes and sneak over the smooth tiles into the living room. Absolute silence. She is not here. Search in the kitchen, just a light humming of the refrigerator. There is no sound a human would make, until you reach the stairs. 
Wet squelching and soft moans. They get louder with every step you take upwards. You decide to leave the mask on and move faster, still careful to not stir up attention. The sounds of self-satisfaction come from the playroom. Take a look inside and there she is.
Chaewon sits on the couch, panties around her ankles. Three of her fingers slowly move in and out of her pussy as she rubs her clit in circles. She throws her head back against the rest and the moonlight gives you a perfect view of her pleasure ridden face and closed eyes. The squelching gets louder and in between moans, Chaewon forms a clear sentence.
“Yes, fuck her like that. Don’t stop, don’t stop—”
Three quick steps and you’re right in front of the half-naked Chaewon. She pulls her fingers out in shock but you replace the emptiness of her hole with yours immediately after. Chaewon gasps as you lean closer to her and pump slowly.
“My wife is a kinky bitch.”
“Sh-shut up.”
“No, you shut up. Keep imagining it. 
How I fuck your friend as she cries and screams. The way her body trembles while you look from the bushes. The way my cock pierces her pussy until she starts to pee all over herself.”
“Fuck!” Chaewon screams out and her body begins to shake.
“You like that? Then cum for me, Chaewon. 
Or else.”
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ughgoaway · 6 months
Text
nightmare before christmas // day 4
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content warnings; umm nothing really? nightmares, crying and upset Annie :(
a/n; I had so much fun writing this one. Do I love the result? mmm, not really!! but i hate everything i do soooo... we move! also, if you don't know the book aliens love underpants, I would advise a quick Google for context lol <3
word count; 1.9k
(this fic takes place after they have gotten together)
12 days masterlist
✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿
The pitter patter of small feet coming down the hallway isn't an unusual sound to you now, having moved in with the Healy’s a few months ago and quickly becoming ajdusted to living with 2 extra people. But it was unusual to hear it at midnight a few days before Christmas. 
You're still awake, having not been able to sleep because your mind can't stop racing. Your first Christmas with Annie was making you nervous, matty had spoken to her on her own and asked if it was okay that you were here. Annie answered with an enthusiastic “YES!!” It was so enthusiastic, in fact, that you heard it from where you were hiding out in the kitchen. But still, you were nervous, not wanting to ruin her Christmas. 
The footsteps caught your attention, and then the telltale sound of the bedroom door opening filled your ears. Those same feet came up to Matty's side of the bed, and you heard the softest whisper, “Daddy”
Annie waited a few seconds but simply got a snore in return from Matty. 
“Daddy” she tried a little louder, even touching Matty's arm slightly, but still, he didn't stir. He had a long day at the studio fighting with George over the production of a new song, so he was exhausted. You knew he was knocked out hard, so I sat up and gestured to Annie.
“Hey sweetie, are you alright, my love?” you say softly, ushering her over to your side of the bed. Annie came shuffling over to you, dressed in her Grinch pyjamas with her stuffed bear in her arms. She quickly jumped up on the bed and sat on your lap.
“I had a scary dream” she says. You can see she's trying to hold herself together, but the sight of her lip wobbling almost sets you off too. Your heart shatters at her sad, sleepy eyes. She brings her closed fists and rubs at them, clearly fighting the tiredness she is feeling. 
“Oh I'm sorry darling, would you like a hug?” you say softly, rubbing her back. A small nod from her is all it takes for you to throw yourself at her and wrap her in a tight hug. You hold her close and eventually hear a soft sniffle. You have to take a deep breath to not cry yourself. You simply tighten your grip and slowly rub up and down her back.
Eventually, the wet spot on your shirt stops growing, and her breathing evens out slightly. You pull back, and she looks up at you with red-rimmed eyes.
“Would you like me to try and wake up Daddy, sweet girl? He wouldn't mind at all” you say, despite wanting nothing more than to comfort her yourself.
“No it's okay” she says with a sniffle, “will you take me to my bed to read a story?” she asks. Before you get a chance to respond, she cuts in quickly and adds, “And stay there until I fall asleep?” with pleading eyes.
Oh, if your heart wasn't already in 1000 pieces at her sad eyes, that comment would have done you in.
“Of course my love, let's go, huh?” You swing your legs off the side of the bed and pick Annie up, placing her on your hip and then walking out to her room. The hallway floors were freezing on your cold feet, and you hiss as you step out. Still, you shuffle down to Annie's room, ready to get her settled. 
Her paw patrol night light still illuminates her room in a warm glow as you wander in, strategically avoiding all the stuffed toys on the floor. You place Annie on her bed and tuck her in, making sure to make it especially tight, and she giggles at your obsessive tucking. There were few greater sounds than the laugh of a child, but it feels even after they've been crying to you.
Gently, you sit on the side of the bed and stroke her hair before speaking, “Now what book do you want me to read, Annie? It can be absolutely any of them! i promise I'm a good reader” you jokingly add. 
“I know that y/n!” Annie says with a duh look on her face, “You taught me to read properly!” she giggles out. You mirror her actions and put a shocked look on your face in response.
“I had forgotten that little, Miss Annie!!” You teasingly poke her side as you speak. Soon, she decides on “Aliens Love Underpants”, her current favourite.
Despite Matty having already read it to her tonight, she wants to hear it again, and who are you to deny her? 
You open the book to begin to read, but you feel a small hand touch your knee, and you pause to see Annie sat up with her teddy back in hand. “Will you sit up with me to read it y/n?” she asks shyly, burrowing her nose in her teddy. 
Your face softens, and you can't help the audible sigh that comes out of your mouth at how sweet she is. “Absolutely my girl, shuffle over for me, huh?” she wiggles over excitedly, and you slide into the spot she made. Before long she’s curling into your side and wriggles to get comfortable. 
Once settled, she grabs her teddy, puts her thumb in her mouth, and asks you to start. 
So you do, and even before you hit halfway, you hear soft snores from the little girl next to you. Briefly pausing, you pull back to see Annie fast asleep next to you, her mouth wide open and her eyelids fluttering.
But you settle back in and continue to read, “Just to make sure she was really asleep” you assure yourself.
Little did you know, at this time in your room, Matty had awoken, having flipped over and stretched to pull you close only to be met with an empty bed next to him. He groggily shot his head up at the feeling of the cold sheets.
His curls were wild and sticking in every direction. But any confusion didn't last long, as he heard your mellow voice ringing through the halls.
He sat up and listened intently, immediately recognising what you were reading, having read it a few dozen times himself. He knew it was towards the end of the book, so Matty thought he’d wait in bed for you to return, not willing to traverse the cold hallways and leave his warm cocoon. 
But as you finish the last words, you simply start again. Matty scrunches his face in confusion, knowing Annie has never stayed awake for a full read of that book. So why would you need to read it again?
Sighing sadly, he slips out of the blanket fort he had created and slides on his slippers to come find you. Not without audibly grumbling to himself, though.
Slowly, he walks through the house, trying his best not to alert you to his presence. But little did he know Matty could have stomped through those hallways, and you would’ve been none the wiser, too distracted by his sleeping daughter and her adorableness.
Your melodic voice soundtracked Matty's walk, and he caught himself smiling at the mere sound of you speaking. “What a sap,” he thought to himself, so easily enamoured by your every move. 
Before Matty poked his head around that door, he didn't think he could be any more in love with you. The months of pining and build up only to finally get you were everything to him. He thought he knew romantic love, but he didn't really, not until he had you.
You just had this aura around you that surrounded Matty in a way he didn't think was possible before. And, of course, he had heard about love his whole life. He had heard the love songs before, hell had written his fair share, but nothing compared to really being in love. 
So he thought he'd found its peak. That was until he poked his head around Annie's door that night and saw you two huddled together reading. He saw his sleeping daughter fast asleep in your arms and you looking at her with such adoration in your eyes, and somehow he fell even deeper.
Matty worked his way into the room, still trying to be undetected, but he soon stood on a squeaky toy that alerted you to his presence. You look up, and immediately your face breaks out into the most breathtaking smile Matty had seen.
If he thought you were looking at Annie with love, it was nothing compared to the love in your eyes when they met his own.
“Hi angel” he said quietly, walking over towards you slowly, taking in the view in front of him carefully. He made note of the way Annie was tucked closely into your side, her toy tight in her arms. He wanted to remember the way your arm was swung around her, sliding your hand up and down her back absentmindedly. 
“Hi baby,” you whisper as you purse your lips up at Matty. He smiled bashfully and leaned down to peck your lips. Not just willing to give you just one, he pressed your lips together a few times before pulling away.
All it takes is a scrunch of his eyebrows for you to start explaining yourself.
“Annie had a nightmare and came to find you, but you were fast asleep and wouldn't wake up,” you begin to explain, a wash of sadness falls over Matty's face at the image of his daughter not being able to wake him up.
You bring one hand up to hold his before continuing, “but luckily, I was awake with my silly brain, so I called her over. She had a little cry and a cuddle.” Matty's face drops further, and you simply squeeze his hand once more in an attempt to comfort him.
“Then I offered to wake you up, but she asked me to tuck her in and read a book until she fell back asleep. So that's what we did.” You smile gently down at her as you finish your sentence. Matty slips his hand from yours and places it on your head. He begins stroking your head and fiddling with your hair as he speaks.
“That is so sweet of you, thank you, baby.” he says sincerely, “but why are you still reading? She has been asleep ages judging by the drool on her pillow” he gestures with his hand, and below Annie’s head is a small wet patch, causing you to chuckle to yourself.
“I know, I know. But I just wanted to make sure she was properly asleep. I promised I would stay until she fell asleep, and I didn't want her to wake up and be alone.” A slightly embarrassed tone permeates your words, but your eyes shine with nothing but pure love.
“I love you.” Matty blurts out, having no other thoughts at that moment. Seeing his two favourite girls curled up together already had Matty's head spinning, but hearing you say that nearly bowled him over. 
“I love you too, babe,” you say sweetly, still caressing Annie's shoulder subconsciously and sleepily staring up at your boyfriend. 
You had no idea how much this moment meant to Matty. No idea this was the moment he decided he was going to marry you.
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its-vannah · 2 years
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Karma | Jace Velaryon x Reader
A/N: As requested, this is the second part to "Maroon". I hope y'all enjoy it as much as the first fic, it's not as angsty lol.
Warnings: Death, you have children, marriage, sexist comments made by Lord Baratheon, crying, mentions of an affair
Midnights Masterlist
Part One
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Lord Baratheon sat across from you at the long dining table, the glass of wine in his hand drained in seconds. Waving it around as he spoke, his words were slurred.
As the night went on, the topics of conversation became more personal and, for you, highly offensive and embarrassing.
Looking around the table, he released a drunken laugh, "All these women are struggling to bare child, but what you really need is a strong man."
'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare
You shot your husband a warning look, praying to the Gods he wouldn't go any farther. But he didn't even look your way.
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
"I got my wife pregnant on our own wedding night. It's not an easy feat for most, but for me, it was like a stroll in the gardens."
"My Lord—" You began, but he waved you off, ignoring the glare you shot him.
He laughed to himself as he beckoned a servant to pour him so more wine, "You just have to be in control. Your will to have an heir needs to be greater than anything else. Don't worry about her personal pleasure, but your own. It's your seed that controls—"
Karma's gonna track you down
From the other end of the table, someone slammed their first down, ceasing all movement and conversation.
'Cause karma is my boyfriend
Jacaerys stared right into your husband's eyes, "That's enough, Lord Baratheon."
You're talking shit for the hell of it
But he just laughed, drinking more wine, "It's all fun and games, my prince. I wasn't only speaking of Y/N, but the other women I've—"
The Prince raised his voice, "Enough!"
The air filled with silence, not a single person moving. Your cheeks were hot, your eyes burned, and your lips quivered as you fought with yourself to hold back the urge to cry.
Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant
For all his faults and flaws, you hadn't thought Lord Baratheon to be unfaithful. You didn't even know when he had found the time to visit a brothel. He was always tending to his people, whether he was ruling or visiting the local people.
Rattling your ground
Then, it hit you. By "visiting the locals", he meant fucking prositutes. Clenching your first, you shook the thought out of your head.
And I keep my side of the street clean
Despite your heart belonging to another, you would never be unfaithful to your husband. You had more respect for him, apparently, then he did for you.
Pushing your chair out, you stood abruptly, "Excuse me."
Your shoes clicked against the stone floor as you walked hastily towards your private chambers. Once you reached the doors, you threw them open, letting them slam behind you walked over to your writing desk.
Ask me what I learned from all those years
Removing the large necklace your husband insisted you wore, you set it on the table, removing each piece of jewelry one at a time before you removed your dress. Standing only in your petticoat and corset, you braced yourself against the table, finally breaking down.
Ask me what I earned from all those tears
Between your heavy breaths and muffled sobs, you didn't hear the door creak open, the sound of footsteps behind you.
Sweet like honey, karma is a cat
Careful not to startle you, Jace cleared his throat, placing a hand on your back, rubbing it in a circular motion.
Unafraid of what would happen if someone walked in, you turned to him and melted in his embrace, crying into his shoulder.
Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me
Holding you tightly to his chest, he kissed the top of your head, "I will always love you, Y/N. Nothing will ever change that. It's going to be okay."
(I'm still, I'm still here)
After that moment, you didn't want to let him go. And a year later, you got your wish.
-------------------------------
Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?
Lord Baratheon was beheaded and killed in a battle between the blacks and greens.
His younger brother soon took over control of the palace and surrounding area instead of your son, and you were left a widow. And while the locals supported you during your supposed time of grief, you couldn't have been happier to be freed of House Baratheon.
Sweet like justice, karma is a queen
Deciding to wait the acceptable month before another bethrothal to avoid suspicion, you and Jace married soon after.
Standing at the alter, you couldn't help but smile up at him, finally getting the life you longed for. From the crowd, Cregan watched as you found the happiness he had once, unintentionally, taken from you.
Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
The wind blew softly, and you realized how free you felt; no longer restrained by your unhappiness. Instead, you were hand in hand with the man you had loved for years.
Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here
Your happiness had once been stolen from you, placed our of reach. But death, ironically, had brought the two of you back together.
Karma's a relaxing thought
As the ceramony came to an end, Jace took your face in his hands, pressing a soft, but deep, kiss to your lips.
Me and karma vibe like that
For the first time since your son was born, you felt at peace.
Coming straight home to me
Even years later, after the birth of your second son, Lynor, and daughter, Nyra, and the battle between his mother and Allicent, his love never wavered. All the stress in the seven Kingdoms could fall on his shoulders, which they did, and he would never stop loving you and your family.
After your arrival to Driftmark, he was finally able to hold your son, Lucerys the second, in his arms. Losing control of himself, he wept for the years he lost with him. But he would never let go now, not until the day he died.
Many years later, when he had already passed and you were on your deathbed, each of your children sat around you.
While Jacaerys had given up his title in favor of his brother, Argon, his children still became miraculous leaders.
Step by step from town to town
Your eldest son, Lucerys the Second, had grown into a strong, yet kind, ruler just like his namesake. While still refered to as a Baratheon to avoid scandal, he knew, accepted, and embraced his true heritage. With a family of his own, he was an example of what a ruler should be. He looked after Driftmark and put his whole heart into ruling, ensuring that his people were well taken care of. His wife, Serna, was not just a prize to him as you had been to Lord Baratheon, but his equal.
Your second son, Lynor, went on to become an infamous knight in the seven kingdoms. A noble warrior, he became the King's Hand when he was of age. He, himself, married Cregan Stark's youngest daughter, Norea, and showed her the same love Jace had shown you in his lifetime.
And your beautiful daughter, Nyra, was highly respected throughout the kingdoms, eventually marrying into House Tully. She reminded you of Jace, who had always doted on her as a child.
And now, as you lay with your children around you, sadness filling the room, you smiled.
Lucerys took your hand, "Mother, I'm not ready for you to go."
You squeezed his hand, "It's time, my boy."
Closing his eyes, he fought back tears, pressing a kiss to your hand.
You're terrified to look down
Lynor was next, shaking his head, unwilling to meet you eyes out of fear that, if he did, he'd lose control of himself, "Do you not fear death?"
You shook your head weakly, "No, my dear, I don't. I welcome it."
You wouldn't know what I mean
"But why?"
It's coming back around
Nyra sat beside you, looking down at you with a soft smile on her face, "Because she'll see father once again."
"I love you all, as did your father," You said, coughing in between words, "He would be so proud of you."
'Cause karma is the thunder
Feeling the world slowly fade around you, you watched as your son's crumpled.
Lucerys wept into his hands, praying to the Gods, and Lynor remained stoic, refusing to break down.
Nyra, however, placed a kiss on your head, saying a prayer as your soul left your body.
Karma is a god
The next thing you knew, you were in Jace's arms again, strolling through the gardens as he had promised all those years ago.
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Note
Congratulations on your engagement!! I was thinking that Kassandra and 8 would be an interesting fic :) Don’t feel like you have to write one though if it doesn’t float your boat!
Thank you so much! I'm very excited! I might post updates on how things are going when we get further in the engagement! Also CONGRATS ON BEING MY FIRST ASK BACK LET'S GOOOOOOO!!!
Summary: In a world where the gods blessed mortals with the ability to find their soulmates through matching wounds and scars, Kassandra has always felt immense guilt for her bloody job.
Pairing: Kassandra x Reader
Genre: Soulmate; No Smut
Potential TW: Blood, wounds, scarring, intentional scarring of a soulmate
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Kassandra never noticed the small cuts and bruises on her body. She was a mercenary, a life of injuries great and small was something she would always be used to. So when papercuts and bruises on the hips and shins appeared, she never took notice, never really wondered which ones were from her soulmate. Some who asked found that selfish, that she never worried over which of the injuries weren’t hers, that her soulmate was out there in pain and she had little care. 
But they never saw the big picture. 
Kassandra never cared about which ones were her soulmate’s, not because she was selfish, but because she hated that every injury that was hers appeared on whoever was her destined. Did she lie awake scared some nights, worried that the medium sized wound in her leg was actually much larger on Kassandra? Did she trace her fingers over scars that branded Kassandra, hating that they marred her skin just as much? It made her ache, deep in her soul, that she was causing pain and injury. Yet she couldn’t stop. Fighting was in her bones, carried over from the darkness of that spartan night on the mountain. It was her living. She had lives to support. Surely, hopefully, because her soulmate’s wounds never hurt her when they appeared, her own simply marked the skin, never harming the softness that she was surely destroying. 
Then, she learned the truth. In the market, a hot summer evening on the docks of Kephallonia, Kassandra watched as a woman bent in half, screaming in pain as her soulmate carved his name over and over into her arm. It wasn’t uncommon, branding your own skin with marks to ensure that you would find each other, but most people just do a small scar. A burn somewhere. A scar through the eyebrow. Something lasting that wouldn’t hurt much, but be noticable. Later, the woman praised the gods for her husband’s foresight, but the image of that woman, terrified and crying out in pain as the blood dripped down her arm onto the wooden docks stayed with Kassandra, haunting her nights and her mornings.
Now, the worries became nightmares. A woman, beautiful as the morning sun, gentle as the midnight moon, screaming and sobbing in pain as a spear wound appeared in her side. Claw marks raking down her face. Her eye bleeding as Kassandra’s own was impaled. Such extremes would never happen, the mercenary tried to remind herself, the gods had made it so your destined would never suffer that much from the injuries you face. And still, the dreams would haunt her. 
So she learned. Dodging became her speciality, arrows barely grazed her now, she could catch thrown spears with ease. Eventually, the wounds on her body became more bruises, something she came to live with, though Kassandra desired not a single spot on her future love’s body, no more. Now, their lives could be spent without pain, and only laughter and passion. 
Then, one night on the Adrestia as they sailed past Athens, Kassandra was woken up with a tearing pain across her upper left bicep, trailing down to her wrist in a slow, meticulous motion. She sat up with a startled cry, half expecting some wild creature set upon her by a rival or the Cult to be attacking her. A dagger flashes in the moonlight, swinging wildly for a second only to be met with air and the silence of the sea night. Barnabas wakes with her, shouting in response for the rest of the crew. Only a few stir, used to the nightmares of their crewmates after what they’ve seen after following her across the Greek world. 
“Barnabas? There’s nothing…” She pants, her hair messy from her restless sleep. 
“Aye, there’s nothing Captain.” Her first mate says, rising to his feet to come to her aide. “You were the one who woke me up- By the Gods! Your arm!” 
She looks down, eyes widening as her arm shone with blood, dark and messy in a way that she’s used to after a fight with a wild beast. And then the pain hits her. It’s nothing she’s not used to, but the absence of any attacker aboard her ships grounds her in a reality more painful than most anything she’s ever experienced. 
“No… this isn’t my injury to bear.” Kassandra croaks out, voice hoarse. “She’s been hurt.” And verbalizing that, even to a silent, concerned Barnabas and barely awake Herodotos, is easily the hardest thing she’s ever had to do.
—------------------------------------
It was months later that Kassandra finally realized what happened to her soulmate that fateful night. It had taken Barnabas a week to convince Kassandra that searching every town in Greece would take much longer than they had time for and that her soulmate wasn’t dead because of the bruises and calluses on her fingers left by a weaver’s work. So, she just kept an eye out for any woman with the same deep scars tracing down the muscle of her arm. 
And she found her. 
A beautiful maiden, laughing with a customer at her simple booth in an Argos market, a laugh that Kassandra could swear she’s heard in her dreams, and she had the same scar carving into her skin. Left bicep, all the way down her wrist. A part of her felt pain over it. The real thing, right there, something that caused someone so lovely so much pain, was the only reason she knew it was her. 
The maiden turned, ready to greet Kassandra as a new customer, then stopped, staring at her face with a very clear look of awe. Before she could stop herself, Kassandra reached out, touching the very end of the jagged mark. 
“Tell me… I’ve wondered so long, how did you come to bear this pain?” 
At first, the woman who Kassandra loved before this day looked embarrassed, then, recognition. Her own eyes trailed over the mercenary’s left arm, shock and relief gathering in dazzling eyes as she matches their scar together. 
“You’ll be so infuriated with me.” She mumbled. Kassandra nearly burst into laughter. She had caused her so much pain before, such a scare would never make her angry. Not if it came from her. “But I tripped down a hill.”
The laugh that Kassandra was holding back ripped out of her. What a woman.
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megamindsecretlair · 7 months
Note
Aht aht aht. The vampire Tyrone said that the things he was gonna do to the reader was gonna make the devil jealous. I need details please, if you feel me!!!
A/N: Don't be quoting my fics back at me LOL. I'm gon take this lightly, but let's remember that I am not a smut machine. LOL
A Seduction at Midnight Chapter 3
Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. Use of n-word. Reader is tied up with cuffs, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), PIV (unprotected), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. One mention of spanking. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. blood, over stimulation, Mean-ish reader.
Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to a exclusive party at his place, Tyrone promises a night of pure carnal delights.
Word Count: 4,172k
Midnight Sin Masterlist
A/N: Okay, let's see what these crazy kids get up to! I guess, this is kind of OC? Is it OC if I invented a tiny backstory? I'm still getting the hang of fic writing. Since this taglist is getting so big, please give me a headcount of who still wants to be tagged for Vamp Tyrone or who only wants normal Tyrone. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile
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Mistakes were made. Your wrists were tied and suspended above you on a chain you did not see when you first walked in. You knelt on the bed in a growing puddle of your own arousal, knees spread wide. You felt how wet you were. It leaked out of you, trailing down your thighs. 
You shook nearly in time with the grandfather clock. Each new chime was another hour passed while Tyrone played with you. Perhaps, you didn’t really know what you were signing up for. 
Tears sprung from your eyes. You sniffled. It was too much sensation, too many nerves, too much pleasure. He had not stopped after your previous orgasms for the audience. No, he kept going. Pushing you past your limits. 
“Still with me?” You turned to the sound of his voice but couldn’t see him. He had taken off your mask ages ago and replaced it with a blindfold. It was snug against your face, damp with your tears. 
“Yes,” you whispered. 
Tyrone trailed a feather against your skin and it was like he set you on fire. You hissed and jerked away from him, crying. The chain clinked loudly in your ear.
“Aw, don’t try to get away,” Tyrone said and chuckled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. Even that shit was sensitive. 
“P-please,” you whispered. 
“Please what? Say it where I can hear you,” he said. 
You leaned your head against your raised arms. They were starting to hurt, but the last time you asked him to lower the chain, he fingered you until you came two more times. You couldn’t possibly have another one to give. 
The feather tickled your neck and you twisted, falling forward a bit. Tyrone caught you and righted you. But his grip was too much. You cried out and Tyrone shushed you.
“Shh, shh, where we at baby?” He asked.
“Y-yellow,” you said, cursing yourself. You should just end this. But you did not want this evening to end. For once, your brain shut off and Tyrone handled everything. The sounds he elicited from you were sinful. You didn’t know you could beg and scream and cry as often as you did tonight.
“Are you sure? You’re so messy,” he said slowly. His fingers grazed your pussy and you desperately clenched, needing to be filled. You moaned moving your hips forward, yearning for him to end your torment. 
“Hmm, you’re so wet,” he purred in your ear. “I bet I would have to fight to stay inside, huh?” Tyrone licked your neck. 
“No, no,” you said. If he’d just give you the dick, you would lock your legs around him and never let go. You licked your lips, still feeling a bit rubbed raw after the last time you sucked his dick. 
Tyrone kissed down your neck, around your shoulders, towards your chest. He palmed your breasts, rubbing them slowly and running his thumbs across your nipples. Your whole body shivered. 
You still felt his hands everywhere. Your body tingled from everything he had done to you tonight. Like phantom hands still massaged you, molded you, broke you in half like a pretzel. 
His mouth replaced his thumb. He latched his mouth to your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it. 
“S-shit,” you sniffled. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to yell. He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping two long fingers in and out of you. 
“Got another one for me?” He asked. His breath fanned across your wet nipple and you moaned. 
“N-no,” you moaned. Hell, this couldn’t be real. You didn’t want to wake up if it wasn’t. He was ruining you for any other man. What human could compete with this level of stamina? Tyrone had sounded calm and collected all night. Except for when he was fucking your mouth. He never sounded more gorgeous than the few little “fucks” that kept escaping him. 
He flicked his tongue lazily against your nipple. Once he got it into a tight nub, he moved on to the right nipple. He paid just as much attention to that one as he still pumped his fingers.
It was as if with every plunge, he was calling your orgasm to the surface. Dragging it from the depths of hell itself to make you cum. “Oh fuck, p-please,” you cried. 
“C’mon and give it to me. I knew you had another one for me. With yo sexy ass. You’ve done so good for me tonight,” he whispered against your nipple. You cried out, nothing but the wisps of air you managed to keep escaping you. 
Pleasure wrapped around you and held on for dear life. You shook and jerked. Feeling squeezed tight and not tight enough. Tiny earthquakes were set off inside of you, each with its own aftershock of pleasure. Tears trailed down your cheeks.
Tyrone lifted his head from your chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He took his fingers out of your pussy and spread your arousal around your lips. He shoved his fingers in, making you taste yourself again. He licked your tears away, from both cheeks, humming in pleasure.
“You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop. I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. He held his lips there in a sustained kiss and breathed you in. You knew he didn’t have to breathe, not really. He did it anyway, committing you to memory. The thought made your pussy throb. 
“I n-need…” You tried, but you couldn’t voice your thoughts. It had been too long since he entered you. Since he gave you what you wanted. What you truly wanted. You were trying to hold out but he was being incredibly stubborn about it.
Couldn’t vamps read minds? Weren’t they supposed to get super special powers to roll your mind, make you do things, or work some type of magic? You slunk down, wrenching your shoulders back too far, but you were close to passing out. 
“Tell me what you need,” Tyrone said. His voice was clear, deep, and intentionally seductive. He knew fuck well what he was doing. You supposed after centuries of sex, he should know what he was doing. But you were a mere mortal. He had to have some kind of mercy. 
“Please, fuck me,” you begged. 
Tyrone chuckled and cupped your face. He kissed you. His tongue rolled against yours and you moaned, sitting up straighter. Your thighs were starting to burn from this position. The metal clanked overhead. The grandfather clock tick, tick, ticked. You’d never be able to look at another clock the same way again. The mu’fucka ruined clocks for you too.
He slotted his lips against yours, languid as a fat cat on a summer’s day. He explored your mouth as if he were kissing you for the first time. His soft lips were their own sweet torture. 
“Hm, I need to taste you first. You made such a mess, I need to clean it up,” he said. You cried as he moved into position on his back. He pulled you closer, making you crawl on your knees. The chain rattled as it moved on the track, allowing you to push forward and sit on his face. You tried to stay on your knees, but he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled until you were seated.
He reminded you that he didn’t need to breathe as his tongue darted out to lick your pussy. You reared up but he pulled you back down. Your ass pushed against the heels of your feet. 
His grip turned bruising as he crushed you to his face and ate you out again, moaning at the taste of you. 
“So good,” you think he said. He sounded muffled. You bit your lip as your hips started to move of their own accord. Grinding down on his face. Oh, oh, yeah that felt so good. You moved your hips faster.
Tyrone stuck his tongue out and let you fuck yourself on it. You moaned as you rode him, taking your pleasure from him as if he were nothing but a toy. Nothing but a vibrator you were pleasuring yourself with. Your fingers tangled with the chains as you gripped them and rode his face harder. Fresh arousal leaked out of you, surely drowning him. 
“Right there, right there, rightthererightthererightthere,” you cried, your voice tinny.
You were caught between wanting to go faster and pushing him off altogether. You could not survive another orgasm. And yet, you were grinding on him anyway. Your pussy clenched and throbbed as your orgasm built, tightening your belly. At its peak, it erupted. 
You cried out as it swept through you. A volcano of pleasure that kept going and going, taking you to another plane of existence. 
You slumped against his face as he licked up everything you gushed out. You spasmed. The smell of sex was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. “Such a good little girl,” he said against your thighs. He moved you easily as if you were as light as the feather he used earlier.
The praise made your spirit soar, even as your body was too tired. He got to his knees behind you. A moment later, the chains were starting to lower and you whimpered in relief. He kissed your neck and back and started to massage your shoulders. He whispered nasty things in your ear as his hands rubbed the dull, burning ache. 
“Better?” He asked.
“Unhuh,” you sighed.
“Where we at baby?” He asked.
You thought about it. If he teased you one more time, that was it, you were throwing in the towel. Stubbornly, you rallied the last remaining strength you had. “Yellow,” you said through clenched teeth. 
“Stubborn little thing, ain’t you?” He asked. 
“I was promised a night I’ll remember,” you said.
He chuckled and licked the shell of your ear. “Not enough for you? Complaining about my performance?” He asked.
“If I need to find someone else, let me know,” you said.
The sharp smack to your ass was unexpected and you gasped from the sheer force. The sting built in intensity until your ass was on fire.
“You can joke about a lot of things. That shit ain’t one of ‘em. Understand?” He asked.
Your head bobbled. 
“Use your words,” he said.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” you squeaked. 
Since your arms were now lowered, he pushed you forward. You leaned on your elbows and brought your ass up. You weren’t moving fast enough. Tyrone grabbed your hips and pulled you backwards. 
He slammed inside of you. You were so wet that he slid in easily. You cried out as he fucked you with something to prove. Okay, you hit a fucking nerve. 
Your wrists were still tied. You held them in front of you, to keep the chain from knocking into your face. He fucked into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into your hips, slamming you back on his dick. 
You moaned and cried and whimpered as he finally gave you what you wanted. He filled you up. His thick dick was perfect, digging into your guts exactly in the way you needed. 
“No one else gets to touch you,” he growled. 
“Yes, Sir,” you said.
“No one,” he said. “No one.” It became a chant. Every thrust pushed you forward. Your ass slapped against his thighs. His balls tapped your clit. 
Your nails scraped against the bedsheet as he rutted inside of you. He was animalistic. Grunting and groaning. In between chanting, he’d pepper in curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, squeeze that shit,” he moaned.
You pushed back against him, and he increased his thrusts. His moans turned you on. Hearing that deep voice moaning activated a different side of to you. You threw it back on him. He growled as he slammed back. Gasps and yips escaped you. You couldn’t take a full breath. He fucked the orgasm out of you, wringing a loud, keening yowl from you. 
Your body jerked and twisted as your orgasm steamrolled you. Reality shifted and changed. You peeked into the fifth dimension, feeling at once above your body and in it. You pictured how you looked. Suppliant, on your knees, getting dicked down in the most primal way possible. 
“Oh fuck, baby. So good,” you moaned. 
As you floated back down, Tyrone roared and released a fat load inside of you. The hot spurts filled you up. He shuddered as he pushed forward to the hilt, moaning deep and low in his throat. 
“So beautiful. So good,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the base of your spine. You tensed, ready for his fangs to sink in. He rubbed one side against your ass and chuckled. “No more bites tonight, love,” he promised. 
You pouted and whined. He placed another kiss there and slipped out of you when he softened. He untied the blindfold. 
The sudden light seared your eyes and you blinked through new tears. You looked towards him, eyes blurry, and found him looking down at you with so much emotion. Such pride. Such admiration. You smiled lazily at him and yawned. You still shook from little tremors after that last orgasm. 
He took the cuffs off of you, rubbing and massaging circulation back into your wrists. Warmth spread through your body as you stretched out, laying down fully on the bed. Sleep tugged heavily at you. You wanted to stay up and talk to him, but he kissed your forehead and told you to sleep. So sleep you did.
Tyrone
You were going to be the true death of him. You looked ruined. Your perfect body was curled on the bed, ass in the air and scrumptious enough to bite into. He almost did earlier, but it was your first time giving blood. He didn’t want to suck you dry.
Fuck, his dick twitched thinking of how good you tasted, in all aspects. Your blood was ambrosia. Straight from the heavens itself. It took every, single ounce of willpower to keep from killing you. And you poor thing. You had no clue. 
He should feel horrible about it. You were so full of life. Interesting and unique. He loved listening to you talk and learning how your mind worked. He would hate it if you were snuffed from this life.
But you had no clue how fucking delicious your blood was. And then when he tasted that sweet honey between your thighs, it was enough to drive him insane with lust. Tyrone could not remember the last person who drove him so crazy. He’d had his share of lovers over the centuries. When his loneliness was so loud, he’d do anything to steal the warmth from his partner. He’d agree to anything, kill anybody, if it meant that someone would wrap their hands around him in love rather than fear.
He looked at you, staring at your rolls and curves. He could keep going. You made him want to keep going. He wanted to mesh your bodies together and never leave your embrace. He wanted to twist you any which way he could. 
He needed a walk. Usually, he would kick out whoever he got done fucking. But you were different. He wanted to mold his body to yours and snuggle in close. But if he snuggled up with you right now, you wouldn’t ever be free to walk this earth again. This…possessiveness was starting to worry him. Slick Charles said as much as Tyrone spent nearly every night watching you in your house. 
He left the room, towards the en suite bathroom and warmed up a washcloth for you. He cleaned you up, gentle, but you were deeply asleep. He heard the thump of your heart as you slept. You made little whimpering noises.
He was jealous of your dreams. For a while, you were lost to him. He wanted more of it. More of you. You were so cute and trusting, sleeping next to a monster. So, he threw on his briefs and left the room altogether. He needed to be away, where your scent wasn’t wreaking havoc on his senses. 
Outside the room, the carnal sounds of fucking slammed into him. The smell of sex was potent. He walked down the hall where some people were fucking against the wall. He passed by people in various states of dress, masks on, dicks and pussies out. Some women were getting fucked, some men were getting pegged.
When he was younger, all of this still would’ve excited him. He still enjoyed watching sex, but his dick only stirred for you. He gritted his teeth as he passed through to one of the playrooms.
Four people were intertwined in a complicated dance on the large bed. Tyrone stopped for a moment, watching the foursome as everyone was getting off on someone else. Sex was fascinating to him. The way people contorted themselves into shapes just to get off. To reach that ultimate goal. Tyrone watched their faces. He watched how even though they selfishly sought their own pleasure, they were just as focused on their partner. On giving and taking. 
Tyrone moved on, passing by the playrooms and ensuring that everyone minded the rules. At the end of the hall, a lone figure leaned against the wall. The figure was fully dressed in slacks and a shirt one size too big. 
“Who are you?” Tyrone asked. He stopped walking forward. The figure was half in shadow. The figure turned his head, head dipping into one of the hall lights.
“Don’t you recognize your big brother?” 
Tyrone sighed and rubbed his head. “The fuck are you doing here, Fontaine?” 
Fontaine chuckled, his gold grills glinting in the light. Moans crescendoed all around but Tyrone tuned it out. Like turning down the sound on a stereo, the moans faded to the background. 
Rage replaced his earlier calm at seeing Fontaine. Smug mu’fucka. Fontaine removed himself from the wall, stalking towards Tyrone. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Tyrone up and down.
“Shit, Tyrone. You finally fuck that stick out ya ass?” Fontaine chuckled. “Who is she? She still around?” Fontaine looked behind Tyrone as if the person would be coming up behind them. Tyrone clenched his fists but kept a mask of amused indifference. 
“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?” 
Fontaine’s smile slipped. He shrugged. “Can’t just be because I miss you?” 
Tyrone reared back as if Fontaine had slapped him. It was uncanny, looking into the eyes of someone that fuckin’ looked like you. There was a disconnect between the mirror and this mirror-version of Tyrone. It was him but it wasn’t him. 
“Fuck no. What do you want?” On the inside, Tyrone was worried. He still didn’t know what you were or why your blood smelled so divine. It was a big risk bringing you here tonight, knowing that your blood might draw the others. But nothing happened when that first drop touched air…still, he wasn’t going to gamble that Fontaine’s keen sense of smell would find you. 
Tyrone barely held it together around you. Fontaine was a ripper, who enjoyed his food in all manners of ways. It would be nothing to snap your neck and drain you dry. 
Fontaine laughed and nodded. “I got some business here,” he said. 
“What business?” Tyrone asked.
“Mines, nigga,” Fontaine said. He laughed as he pushed past Tyrone, looking in and out of the playrooms. He stopped at one door and leaned on it, watching the couple as the man was getting spanked. 
“Father banished you–” 
“Father’s the one that called me back here,” Fontaine interrupted. He turned towards Tyrone and lifted an eyebrow. “Old man didn’t tell you?” 
“Nigga don’t say shit but bark mu’fuckin’ orders.” Tyrone walked away from the playrooms. He went upstairs, heading towards his office. Here, the place felt slightly more like him. This wasn’t his main residence. He didn’t want to sleep in the same house that his people did depraved things. 
Fontaine’s steps were quiet, but with his hearing, he knew Fontaine trailed behind him. The halls were painted light gray, soft wood underneath, and random sculptures and pieces of art along the end tables or on the walls. Paintings of himself were spread along the walls. He hated the idea. But Slick Charles told him that he needed to add some showmanship for the parties. Whatever.
He turned on the light to his office and walked inside. Fontaine slipped in behind him and closed the door. Tyrone flopped into his chair and rolled his neck. He just wanted to spend the night in between your legs. He knew the night was going too perfect. 
His office was like his others, painted in his favorite color, gray, with complimentary furniture. He had a few personal items there like his watch or keys, or sunglasses. Fontaine flopped into the chair opposite the large desk. He sneered at the decorative plants and art. 
“Corny ass mu’fucka,” Fontaine whispered.
“Why are you really here?” 
Fontaine shrugged. “Pops gettin’ paranoid or some shit. Or he want something. I’ve been getting word that he’s been lookin’ into my business overseas. I’m just here to see why he broke the agreement,” Fontaine explained. 
“Lookin’ into it how?” Tyrone asked.
Fontaine shrugged again. His gaze moved around the room. Tyrone watched him, looking at all the ways he changed in the hundred or so years since he last saw him. 
Fontaine had a scruffy beard now, with kinked hair sticking up every which way. The grill was obviously new. The canines were elongated, perfectly hiding his real fangs. It was clever. He could move around more freely, not afraid to laugh or speak. 
“Ion know yet. All I know is that he broke his side, so the terms is null. I’m taking myself off punishment, baby brother,” he said.
Tyrone chuckled. “That’s not the way that shit work,” he said. 
“Does now. Look. I came here as a muthafuckin’ courtesy. No disrespect shit. I’m not going to make noise. I just want to see what Pops knows and then I’ll be gone,” Fontaine said.
Tyrone looked at him over the desk. There was so much history there. History of running around together, chasing girls in skirts, and fuckin’ them ‘till the morning came. Of all the arguments and yelling at each other. Fontaine moving to Europe was the best decision ever. They needed that continent in between them. 
“How long?” 
“Ion know,” Fontaine said.
“Not good enough,” Tyrone said.
“Make it good enough.”
Tyrone sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, ‘Taine. Don’t start that shit,” he said. 
Fontaine suddenly sniffed and Tyrone whipped his head towards him. Fontaine’s head was tilted chasing the scent. Could he smell you on Tyrone? 
“How long do you need?” Tyrone asked, trying to distract Fontaine. But Fontaine only took another deep breath.
“Damn, that almost smells like…Versailles,” he said. 
The name triggered a distant memory, of remembering when Tyrone and Fontaine had walked the halls of the famous palace, had walked by a proper lady, and she had smelled so good, it made Tyrone and Fontaine whirl around. 
Fontaine chuckled. “Must be all this pussy in the air. Anyway, I’m fo’ real. I just want to know how much he knows. I’ll be gone before you know it.” 
Tyrone nodded. “Fine. Don’t start anything while you here. Get in, get out,” Tyrone said.
Fontaine smirked and shook his head. “Shit, baby brother. You really got something here,” Fontaine said.
“You don’t have to keep up the good older brother routine. I already said you could stay,” Tyrone said. 
Fontaine laughed. “Man, whoever you fucked, go fuck ‘em again. Loosen up. All that frowning gon’ make you old,” Fontaine chuckled on his way out of the office. 
Tyrone watched him go. He strained his hearing for Fontaine’s soft steps and followed the sound of his shoes out of the house. He hadn’t smelled you. Good. Tyrone left his office and headed back to you. 
He couldn’t risk Fontaine knowing about you. He didn’t know what his brother would do around you. Especially if he was thinking of Versailles. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The centuries tended to blur after being alive so long. It was just fleeting from one activity to the next. 
He’d have to look into it later. For now, he wanted to forget that Fontaine was here. He wanted to forget that there were others in the house. He wanted to wrap himself in your warmth and addicting scent and sleep the morning away.
You were still fast asleep. Tyrone lowered the lights and climbed into bed. He snuggled you from behind. You let out a soft sound. He wrapped his hand around your tummy and felt the approaching morning like a heavy blanket. He slipped off to sleep with your intoxicating scent tickling his nose.
&&&
Masterlist | Chapter 3
135 notes · View notes
margowritesthings · 7 months
Note
Hey, Margo! 🩷
I’m sending the request according to your new post 🥺
I would like a friends to lovers trope. But here’s the thing: Could the female character (lil me) and Arthur actually had a relationship in the past (current relationship status is they broke up) and now they are falling for each other again (second chance)?
Of course I would love a Red Dead Redemption (Arthur Morgan) fanfic 🩷
The gender is female, and if you could make her ginger with brown eyes (like me) I would love it 🥺 And if Arthur calls her angel, even better 🩷🩷🩷
Feel free to add smut, fluff and anything you would like!
Thank you for tagging me! You know how much I love your writing 🩷
sweet angel hello! thank you for participating, i got so many ideas for your love story with our pretty cow boah
come celebrate 1k followers with me!
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arthur morgan // second chance + friends to lovers
you two have been sweet on each other since the moment you met, the day you joined the gang. arthur was brave enough to ask you on a date after only a short three months of pining after you
he took you to the saloon, you beat him at poker, and in that moment he knew you were his soulmate. a forever love.
you were together for a few months, and it was that kind of love you only thought existed in the stories you read. it was celestial, ethereal. a wild burning flame extinguished far too quickly.
when he found out about isaac and eliza's deaths, arthur really struggled. he drank a lot and lost himself for a while.
you knew the best thing to do was to just be there for him, so you both decided he needed friendship right now.
"you're my best friend, arthur. that ain't ever gonna change."
but the feelings didn't just go away as easily as your plan relied on, that flame too furious to be extinguished by simple "logic"
you wanted to respect the space arthur asked for, and he never thought he was good enough to have you after letting you go the first time
unworthy of your love
if he couldn't protect isaac and eliza, how could he ever deserve you?
and thus ensued years of pining
the very best of friends, unable to stay away from each other while this silent love roared
you'd work jobs together, go hunting together, have midnight chats by the fire, save each other's asses from time to time
years went on like this, where everybody in the gang and their mamma would share glances and roll their eyes at the two fools who couldn't just admit they were made for each other
you were the first person arthur wanted to see whenever he got back from a job, the one he rode home to even if he never said it aloud
and as much as your heart ached a little every time you looked at him, you would have stayed like that forever if it meant getting to keep arthur in your life
until the day he left it
when he didn't come back from the 'chat' with the o'driscolls, you were out of your mind with worry
the thought of never seeing arthur again flipped a switch in your mind and you finally realised that this life stuck in limbo wasn't enough
you were sneaking out in the dead of night against dutch's orders when you saw him, beaten and bloody, riding home to you
it broke you, the relief washing over you like a wave that breaks the walls you've built as though they're nothing but paper
he practically falls off his horse, but you catch his weight and support him
you take him to your tent and patch him up, holding him and crying with him when you see what they did to arthur. your arthur.
he winces when he reaches up to push that stray rebellious hair out of your face, but the way the candlelight glows in his eyes has your own breath hitching in your throat
"i was so worried, arthur... i-i thought-"
"i know, angel, i know... i'm sorry...
but i'm here now
and i ain't ever leaving you again."
that nickname... from all those years ago when you first found eachother
whispered for the first time in a moan, you and him tangled together in sheets for the very first time
"goddamn... you're an angel, how'd a dirty sinner like me ever get so lucky?"
when you broke up, you never thought you'd hear it again
and yet here you are
the sweet name echoing in your ears as he kisses you, reuniting your lips after far too long apart
it's a desperate kiss, the kind that holds two lifetimes of context
like you're scared if either one lets go the moment will disappear
so you don't
you tangle your fingers in his hair, he cups your cheek, your bodies moulding together
being any closer would be impossible
"this is it, angel, you hear? no more messing around, this is it. this is us, cause i ain't letting you go."
"you better not, mister."
you’re both crying, breathing each other in, never wanting to let one another go
and you never do again
72 notes · View notes
doodlegirl1998 · 8 months
Note
I think I finally realize why the writing in BNKA always puts me off in some way, something I've been saying for a while but never got a chance to go into detail.
The writing in BNKA feels like narrative manipulation.
I've come to this conclusion after seeing how the fandom reacts to certain moments and compare them to earlier scenes. And that was when it all clicked for me to come up with this word.
With how the unholy three started out (Bakugou, Aizawa, and Endeavor) then seeing their personalities and how others view them take a complete 180 to view them in a better light, that's what I'm referring to as narrative manpulation.
With Bakugou starting out as a bully and supposedly "changing" so others can say "Wow what a great guy he is!" And praise him to the moon and back... it's literally middle school all over again for him.
With Aizawa coming across as unfair and uncaring only for the narrative to prove he's right every time and have others treat him like he's japanese Einstein.
And with Endeavor starting off as a horrible person and the main conflict for Shoto to overcome... only for his family to welcome him back with open arms and say "We're all to blame for what happened!" just to lift some of it off of him and make him seem like he meant well.
The one common thing about these three is Hori having them express negative emotions and crying and the fandom eats it all up. Claiming that they've gone through development and that they really do care and are more than what we were led to believe. And then have them act the exact same way like nothing happened.
And that my friend... is narrative manipulation.
Hi @theloganator101 👋,
100%.
All of the writing in MHA is narrative manipulation but especially with those three.
Bakugou, Aizawa and Endeavour have narrative manipulation, their own in-universe simps, characters not reacting to them as they should and retcons to soften them and make them more palatable to the audience.
Bakugou and Endeavour are easy and extreme examples so I'll begin with Aizawa first.
With Aizawa, this has worked so well that you rarely see people critical of him and only those who have fully and critically looked at him in canon without #Dadzawa colouring their perception.
His students should dislike / hate or at the very least be wary of him. A teacher who sleeps all the time, pulls "logical ruses" lies and expels on a whim would realistically cause the mental health of his students to plummet. Yet all of 1A (including Izu who he seems to very much dislike) love him for some reason...
He's praised as logical, "harsh but effective" yet his fellow teachers should HATE him. Through the amount of students he's expelled I've heard some people theorising that he has expelled OTHER teachers students. Imagine how angry you would be as a teacher to find one of your students careers destroyed because a fellow teacher expelled them for a bullshit reason. Not only that but logically Aizawa's expulsions would have destroyed lives, destroyed careers before they fully lifted off the ground even made villians.
*There's also the fact that he's not shown to be a great friend in canon either, yet Aizawa is surrounded by Shirakumo, Yamada or Kayama who aren't offput from his behaviour. And even has a respect from All Might (despite the fact that Aizawa has been shown to dislike him.)
* - I'm not blaming Aizawa for being depressed or low key here. That's understandable. However friendship is about give and take. We don't see Aizawa being supportive back to his friends, we see them support him only. And when there's an opportunity to show Aizawa being supportive like to Mic after Midnight's death, Hori doesn't take it. Hori instead makes Aizawa shut Mic up. Additionally, when you like someone and are friends with them - you make the effort to show you like their company, you like being around them, you engage with them. Aizawa acts annoyed by his friends most of the time he's with them on screen, like he's grudgingly tolerating them at best.
Then there's Bakugou who is praised as the second coming of Christ, who lost nothing for suicide baiting a quirkless kid (our MC) and abusing him for ten years! Instead Izuku still calls him "Kacchan" 🤮, Bkg has made friends who are staunchly "anti bully" in Mina and Kirishima (who look stupid or hypocrites for being friends with this POS), Aizawa even praises and favours him for some reason despite Bkg's power being astonishingly one note and Bkg having so much of an awful attitude for heroics the villians thought he was a good recruit. 😬 Bakugou is the worst written character I have seen in a long time - a true Gary Stu.
And finally we have Endeavour, the child abusing POS himself who gets a tragic backstory that none of us wanted to see (his father dying as a kid), we have blame shifting on to Rei and Touya with their respective insanity (also now blame shifted on to Rei's incestous fam by some fans) and some even saying "Endeav had Touya's best interests at heart all along" which truly makes me scoff. If Endeav had Touya's best interests he would have taught Touya to cool himself off, he would have found another interest for them to bond over and sent him to therapy. Not ignoring his spiralling son until he died then got saved by All For One.
In addition, Rei's entire character being used as an "Endeav is not that bad" mouth piece makes me sick, Endeavour broke this woman, physically, emotionally and sexually (depending on your reading but she didn't look consenting to Natsuo and Shoto's births) abused her. So this choice with her character doesn't even make sense, she couldn't even see Shoto, she burnt her child because he looked like Endeav! Why doesn't she loathe this man like she should?! It is sick. It's even sicker of Hori to make her say "We are all responsible for what happened." Like that isn't the most delusional and victim blaming shit to say to your children who couldn't have done squat against their hero father.
Then there's Shoto and his story being overshadowed again by his abusive father, his friendship with Izuku being made about forgiving said abusive father. Shoto deserved so much better than this.
TLDR - the victims of the story should have been allowed to show the impact of their abuse / teaching malpractice that they have dealt with.
Aizawa should have resigned his teaching job (that he didn't even want in the first place) and got therapy as well trying his best to make it up to all those whose lives he ruined.
Bakugou should have been expelled for being an abusive asshole and being too dumb to hide it.
Endeavour should have had the Todofam HATE his guts and no one in his corner coddling him when he cries about Dabi then later Dabi should have finished him off instead of sprouting ice randomly.
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