#There is... a lot to think about their dynamic... hum... someone should write for the trio | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drabbles-mc · 9 days ago

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Knock First

Bucky Barnes x F!Thunderbolts!Reader

For Week 1 of Hot Bucky Summer: "Mind your own damn business" & "embarrassment"

Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, allusions to smut, language, tower fic, vague mentions of reader having powers

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: hot bucky summer is BAAACK baby!!! had so much fun writing this. thank you as always to @buckybarnesevents for hosting this event every year!

Privacy at the tower was practically nonexistent these days. No one should have expected anything different, though. You were a team of people who didn’t really have much of anywhere else to go. The tower wasn’t really supposed to be a permanent residence, but no one was in much of a rush to find places of their own. Yourself included.

Knowing what you were dealing with, you had learned to accept the fact that your alone time could get cut short or interrupted at any minute. It wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but you’d been stuck in much worse places. This place was the closest thing you’d had to a home in a long time, and it came with its own dysfunctional family dynamics included.

While you were accepting of the living arrangements, and managed to accept them without too many complaints, Bucky wasn’t handling it quite as well as you were. He was also at the tower now that he was in New York instead of down in DC. Whenever he complained you’d send him a random apartment listing, and for as much as it bothered him he continued to do it. Lucky for you there was no shortage of listings in the boroughs to send him.

The lack of privacy bothered Bucky a whole lot less before the two of you had started sneaking around together. Thinking back on it, you realized that you two only managed to stay away from each other for about a month after he started living at the tower with the rest of you. You could’ve sworn it was longer, but maybe that was just because it wasn’t as though Bucky had ever really fully thawed out his warm and fuzzy side even now. That didn’t particularly bother you either.

It especially didn’t bother you in moments like this, when Bucky was holding the side of your face with one hand while the other was sliding down your chest, your shirt already discarded on the floor. He hovered over you as he kissed you. Warmth bled into your body from his as he kept you caged between him and your mattress. You could hear it better than most, how quickly his heart was beating as he slotted the two of your bodies together.

There was the ticklish brush of his beard against your jaw and then your neck. You tilted your chin up to give him better access, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to stifle the moan you felt creeping up the back of your throat. Unable to stop yourself, you slid your fingers through Bucky’s hair, giving it a small tug of encouragement.

His low hum of appreciation sent vibrations down your entire body. The sensation caused you to arch into him, a shuddered gasp slipping from between your lips as he slid the strap of your bra down off your shoulder.

The word yes was right on the tip of your tongue as his hand that was previously holding your face landed on the button of your jeans. Before you could say it, though, you heard the sound of the doorknob twisting. You tried to get yourself upright, knowing that someone was about to walk in, but you didn’t get very far nor did you communicate to Bucky what you thought was about to happen. All the words were caught in the back of your throat, trapped there by the way Bucky’s teeth were sinking into the sensitive skin there.

Bucky heard the creak of the door open, but even if that hadn’t gotten his attention there was only half a second between that sound and the gasp that Bob let out, immediately followed by him stammering and stuttering, trying to get through an apology of some kind.

If it had been in Bucky’s wheelhouse of powers, he would’ve sliced Bob clean through from top to bottom with just a look. Luckily for all of you that wasn’t the case, but the look on Bucky’s face still made Bob want to dissolve into a puddle on the floor.

You had never seen Bob’s face turn such a deep shade of red before. He clearly hadn’t meant to walk into your room. His was the next door down in the hallway, and you were willing to bet that he’d had his nose buried in the book in his hands which lead to him walking into your room instead of his own. A series of honest mishaps but that didn’t do anything to assuage the anger that Bucky was currently feeling. Blood was rushing quickly through his veins for an entirely different reason now, one that had you trying to hold him back from getting up off the bed.

Bob was nervously looking down at his book, and then up at the two of you, and then back down at his book again as he tried to assure you both that he didn’t see anything. Which you had no choice but to laugh at because he was technically still seeing it, even as he was trying to say he wasn’t.

“I won’t say anything. Well, because there’s nothing to say. Because I didn’t see—”

Bucky cut him off, harsh but simultaneously saving him from trying to come up with the rest of his soliloquy. “Shut the fucking door, Bob!”

His eyes popped wide open, like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind even though you knew all he wanted to do was leave and forget that this had ever happened. “Right. Right.”

The second his hand landed on the doorknob, Bucky spoke up again, more exasperated now than angry. “With you on the other side!”

Your attempt to stifle your laughter was hardly even half-hearted. There was no pretending the entire scene wasn’t comical, Bob’s face somehow managing to get even redder as he went and put himself on the other side of the door. With a laugh and a flick of your wrist you pushed it shut behind him, scooching him out the rest of the way in the process. Once he was out, you allowed yourself to truly break down into laughter at what had just happened.

Bucky sat upright, maneuvering himself so that he was sitting with his legs hanging off your bed. Running his fingers back through his hair he huffed. “It’s not funny.”

You were still laughing, which was enough of an argument to his point without you even saying anything. Using one arm to prop you up, you slid your bra strap back into its rightful place. “It is, though.”

He gestured towards the door. “Didn’t think that a little warning would’ve been—”

You scooted closer to him. You’d managed to stop laughing but the humor hadn’t left your voice yet. “I was a little distracted—sue me.”

“If he goes and tells everybody…” he trailed off, meaning to make it sound like a threat but the tone wasn’t hitting quite right.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Bucky looked at you with an expression that clearly showed how little faith he had in your statement. “I thought the kid’s heart was going to explode in his chest for a second there. I think we’re gonna be alright.” Bucky was grumbling, like you wouldn’t be able to hear him just fine even when he was speaking under his breath. Leaning into him, you hooked your chin over his shoulder. “That’s the risk you run when you’re sneaking around.”

“He has no reason to be barging in here.”

“Well, yeah, that obviously wasn’t on purpose.”

There was a pause, and while you couldn’t get the best look at Bucky’s face from your current angle, you had a feeling that he was mulling over your point. You hoped that the sound logic, combined with the fact that you were ready to finish that the two of you had started if he was, would be enough to stop him from getting up and going after Bob. What happened didn’t have to be a big deal if Bucky didn’t make it one.

About five more seconds went by and just when you were thinking that Bucky was going to fall back into bed with you, he shifted his grip on the edge of your mattress and went to stand up off the bed.

“I’m just gonna—” he was halfway to standing when you reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards you.

He was strong, but so were you, so your pull did cause him to stumble back a step. Looking back at you, annoyance was still etched into his features. Only difference now was that some of it was for Bob, but some of it was for you too.

“Is that really what you wanna spend your time doing right now?” You gave another light pull on his hand.

“What if he says something?”

You laughed. “What do you think he’s gonna do? Text the group chat saying he caught us making out and he saw, like, half my boob?”

Bucky had years of practice in keeping a straight face, but even so you knew deep down that he wanted to laugh. Something about hearing it spelled out like that made him realize, at least a little bit, how ridiculous he was being.

“Fine.” His concession came with him collapsing back onto the bed with you.

It took him no time at all to be right back on top of you again, but you still couldn’t help but to nettle him a little bit with, “Wow, don’t sound so excited about it.”

You caught his eyeroll right before he leaned in to kiss you. Neither of you bothered enough by the events of the conversation after to let it keep distracting you from what you’d set out to do in the first place. One more flick of your wrist and the lights shut off.

It wasn’t until early the following morning when you finally left your room again. Bucky had gone back to his own space the night before once the two of you were done, but you’d had no reason to leave your mini-sanctuary. So you didn’t. You’d slipped into a relatively unbothered sleep until the sunrise started coming through your window.

When you stumbled your way into the kitchen, there were hardly any lights on. There were enough windows to make up the difference, though. Rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, you saw that the only other person there, presumably the only other person awake at such an early hour, was Bob. He was sitting at the counter, a bowl of cereal and milk in front of him. His spoon was halfway to his mouth as he continued to read the same book he’d had in his hands last night.

You broke the silence, and by extension his concentration. “How is that book, anyway?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice, not having heard you come in. The spoon dropped back into the bowl. Luckily the droplets of milk that made it over the side didn’t seem to get on the pages he was looking at. He looked at you, but could only manage to hold eye contact for a moment before staring down into his cereal. His cheeks were already turning color.

“It’s, uh,” he cleared his throat, “it’s good.”

You smiled and nodded. “That’s good.” Turning around, you stepped over to the refrigerator and pulled the door open. Your head was practically tucked inside the thing as you contemplated what you wanted to make for your own breakfast. With your back still to him, you said, “Figured it must be a pretty immersive read if it’s got you walking into the wrong bedroom.”

The choking sound that came next let you know that he’d clearly tried to take a bite of his cereal while you weren’t looking at him. A couple more coughs and he managed to get out, his voice a little strained, “That was an accident. I prom—”

Carton of orange juice in your hand, you finally turned around to face him. “I know it was, Bob.” You chuckled as you grabbed a glass for yourself and filled it. “If I thought you were some kind of perv, I wouldn’t have let them put my room right next door to yours.”

He managed a weak smile, face still red from a mixture of embarrassment and coughing. “Right.”

Even though it grew quiet between you, you could tell from the rapidity of Bob’s heartbeat that this probably wasn’t the end of the conversation. He was just working up the courage to ask or say whatever it was that was on his mind. You were in no rush—he could take all the time he wanted. You kept yourself busy grabbing eggs from the fridge and finding whatever other leftover goodies in there you could to make something reminiscent of an omelet.

There was the clinking of Bob’s spoon against his bowl of cereal, and you were glad that he couldn’t see the smile on your face. He would’ve asked why you were smiling and you didn’t really want to tell him that you found his nervousness to be a little bit endearing. He wasn’t the one who was doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the one who had been keeping secrets. By that logic he had nothing to be nervous about.

His now-empty bowl scraped along the countertop as he pushed it away from him. Clearing his throat, he said, “So…you and Bucky…?”

You chuckled. All that time to think and yet those four words just about summed it up. You nodded, facing the stove still instead of him. “Yeah, something like that I guess.”

Bob nodded even though you weren’t looking at him. “Wow. I didn’t, uh, how long’s that been…”

You shot him a good-natured smile over your shoulder. “Long enough that I’m surprised you’re the first one to catch us.”

He smiled nervously, and the darkening hue of his cheeks had you wondering just how red his face could get. “Oh.”

He’d only met your eyes long enough to see that you smiled at him before looking back down at the book in front of him. It was evident that he wasn’t actually taking in any of the words written out, but it was easier to stare blankly at the pages than it was to stare at you.

Returning your attention to the stove, you said, “You know, it’s going to be really difficult to work on a team together if you can’t make eye contact with me.”

“Oh, uh, I’m not—I’m fi—it’s fine.”

Sliding your finished omelet out of the pan and onto a paper plate, you shut off the stove and put the frying pan into the dishwasher. Plate still balanced in one hand, you used the other to pull the drawer open and grab a fork. Bob was looking quickly back and forth between you and his book as you moved, his hair falling in front of his face every time he looked down.

You situated yourself on the opposite side of the counter, but directly in front of him. Paper plate right by the edge, you leaned forward and braced your forearms against the edge of the counter so you could eat. Cutting into your omelet, you gave it a couple seconds before speaking up again. It felt like Bob needed time to recover from every exchange now.

Once you finished your first bite, you said, “Out of everybody involved, you have, like, the least amount of reason to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he said, the color not yet fully gone from his face.

“Okay,” you took another bite, “sure. I’m just saying,” you used your fork to point at yourself, “me,” you gestured towards the hall where Bucky’s room was, “and him should be the ones avoiding eye contact. But I have no sense of shame,” you said with a laugh, “and he takes all his shame and turns it into annoyance and angry looks so…”

Bob managed not to laugh until you made the comment about Bucky and then he allowed himself to revel in the amusement for a moment. He knew you were right, but that didn’t do anything really to make him feel any better about what had happened. He also knew that Bucky’s anger wasn’t confined to just the look on his face. He was worried about that more than the rest of it.

“Right. He just seemed pretty pissed, so…”

You shrugged and took another bite of your breakfast. “Don’t take it personally—he’s always like that.”

It got another quiet laugh out of Bob. You were both giggling to yourselves over it when you heard another set of footsteps getting closer to the kitchen. You could tell from the pacing of them that it was Bucky, but Bob seemed blissfully unaware of that fact. You let him enjoy ignorance for a few more precious seconds until Bucky came lumbering into view.

He looked back and forth between you and Bob. He caught the smiles on both of your faces, although the look quickly melted off of Bob’s when he realized who had just walked into the kitchen. You didn’t bother to try and pretend that you felt any less amused than you really were.

You flashed a cheesy grin at Bucky. “Good morning, sunshine.” Rather than return your greeting, he gave you a frown that was one part annoyance, one part exhaustion. Continuing to use your fork as a wand, you looked at Bob and gestured to Bucky’s face. “See? Told you. He’s just like that.”

Bucky didn’t look at Bob, but after another second he wasn’t looking at either of you. Back turned on both of you, he started to make himself a cup of coffee. “Yeah? What’d else you tell him?”

You rolled your eyes. “Bucky, c’mon.”

He turned back around, coffee mug in his hand. He skipped right over you and went to looking at Bob. It was hard for him to maintain eye contact with Bucky too, but for an entirely different set of reasons. He managed it, though. Managed it easier than he had with you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Bucky said, his tone flat. “Not to her, to me, to anyone. Just mind your own damn business and—”

“Come off it, Buck,” you interrupted him. “It’s not like he was snooping around.”

Bob’s eyes widened at the fact that not only had you interrupted, but you interrupted to come to his defense. He was content just to let Bucky say his piece and then try to move on without ever bringing it up ever again. He’d deal with the dirty looks and grumbles from Bucky for however long he needed. Eventually it’d all blow over. Something else would happen to steal Bucky’s annoyance. Probably, anyway.

The look that Bucky gave you told you to shut up without him having to actually utter the words. His put his attention back on Bob. “Just keep your mouth shut or—”

“Or what?” you asked with a laugh, tossing your now-empty paper plate into the garbage can. “He goes and blabs to Alexei about us, what’re you gonna do?” The ensuing silence spoke volumes, and you didn’t miss the tiny smile that was starting to creep its way across Bob’s face. “Because if I remember right, the last time you tried to get the upper hand on him, Bob beat you up with your own arm, so, you know,” you shrugged, “might wanna reconsider.”

Your rationale had both Bucky and Bob protesting, for similar reasons phrased very differently. Bob was talking to Bucky, trying to say that he had no intention of doing something like that, while Bucky was talking to you trying to explain that it wasn’t Bob who had done that. They were both right, but you didn’t care about that part. It got Bucky off Bob’s case for the time being, and it had the added bonus of giving you a good laugh.

Bucky stopped before he got himself too worked up. Taking another sip of his coffee, he turned and started to head back towards his bedroom. “It’s too early for this.”

You chuckled as he walked away, but you refrained from making any extra commentary. There would be plenty of time for that later. Both you and Bob watched him until he’d completely disappeared from view down the hallway.

Once you heard Bucky’s bedroom door shut, you looked across the counter at Bob again. “See? Not that bad. He’ll get over it.”

He looked at you, the longest he had all morning, with a sheepish smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.” You tossed your fork into the dishwasher. “Plus now, you know, you got something to hold over Bucky’s head like a guillotine so—”

“Oh, no,” he cut you off, eyes wide like he was shocked you’d made the suggestion. “I don’t want to do that.”

You chuckled. “I know. Which is why it’s a good power for you to have.” Swiping your drink off the counter, you made your way over to his side of it. “And, you know, for what it’s worth,” you gently rested your hand on his shoulder as you walked by, “maybe next time double-check the room before walking into it.”

His cheeks darkened again as he nodded, gaze locked back onto the counter. “Yeah, I’ll remember that.”

Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!): @garbinge @late-to-the-party-81 @blackhawkfanatic @artemiseamoon

ps i didn’t include folks who specifically had been asking to be tagged in my invisible silver linings fic, but if you’re on that and also wanna be on my general mcu taglist please tell me! xo

#hotbuckysummer2025 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #x reader #x reader fic #thunderbolts #thunderbolts fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc

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kabr0ztrousers · 5 months ago

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Kabr0z Writes Episode 12 - Debt, part 3

Also entitled: Endings and Beginnings

Find the Kabr0z Writes Anthology, including parts 1 and 2 here!

CWs: group sex; anonymous sex; noncon; dubcon; more coercion including coercion via financial means; Lots of fucking; pregnancy mention; creampies; free-use; s&m dynamics; role switching; marriage mentioned

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You kept thinking about that party. The first task was easy, suck off a handsome lupine under his desk? You might've done that for free if he bought you dinner (which he ended up doing anyway), but being the centrepiece for a masked orgy was a little more than you bargained for. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy yourself, and Professor Blaidd was very considerate, when he wasn't playing the taskmaster, all soft fur and tenderness. You still had the pyjamas he gave you, and you were still finding his greying hair on them.

Thank goodness for small mercies, you shrugged, if you're going to be led by the purse-strings into subbing for some guy and his friends, at least you nabbed a cute one. For all your doubts though, you were still wearing the anal toy he gave you last time as you walked through the lobby to the elevator. The lowest setting so it wasn't obvious, but was keeping you in the mood.

You knocked on the office door and entered. Blaidd was waiting for you, sat on his desk typing on his phone. He was dressed as he was when you first met him, a the tan blazer, matching trousers and white shirt, salt-and-pepper fur spilling out of the collar and cuffs. You stepped forward and gave him a hug. He started back, but then returned it, holding your head into his chest. His smell was amazing, the scent of old books and a hint of musk.

"This is the last task" He pulled away from the hug and looked into your eyes "It's going to be... Intense"

"More than your party?" You met his gaze

"Yes, I still know all the participants and have personally vetted them, but it's going to be a lot" He got up, moving you to one side "It'll be easier to explain when we get there"

You followed him out of the office and into his car. It felt almost strange to be sat here wearing actual clothes, even if you did still have something in you, gently buzzing against the seat.

Blaidd's ears cocked "Do you hear that?"

"Hm?" You listened closer

"There's been this strange noise since you came into my office, like a hum..." His eyes widened "You're not..!"

"Maybe?" You failed to suppress a smirk, of course he could hear it "If you wanted a dress code, you should have told me"

He grinned "It's fine, but it's going to come out soon, we're here"

You'd pulled into a warehouse car park and got out, coming around the front to let you out again, taking his arm and allowing yourself to be led inside.

The building looked much less intimidating inside than out, soft pink mood lighting illuminated a reception desk, where Blaidd passed a scantily-clad woman in bunny ears a printout. She looked it over, nodded, and wordlessly led you both into another room.

This room was darker, with a divider across it, a wide hole cut into it roughly at waist height. Blaidd nodded to the concierge and pushed some banknotes into her hand "Give us twenty minutes to get settled, I'll let you know when to start letting them in" She nodded and left the room

"Slipping her a bribe so she doesn't call the police?" You giggled. Despite being in the rough part of town, despite being in an unfamiliar building, despite the dubious 'them' Blaidd mentioned, you seemed unable to feel unsafe around him

"Oh, you know" Blaidd smiled "Just the tip"

You facepalmed, you knew he was corny but that's still a bit much

Blaidd was laughing at his own joke as he brought you behind the divider and sat you on a bench. You could see a headrest and armrests, complete with restraints. Clearly this was intended to for someone to lie on it for a while without a break.

"This will be a free-use scene, have you heard of it?"

You nodded

"Good, now get undressed and lie down"

You did so, slowly peeling off each item, making sure he was watching as you did. This time though, he was stripping for you too. You hadn't realised how broad his chest was, or how thick the fur really was under his clothes. The sight of his cock peeking out of his sheath made your pulse quicken. You lay on the bench, completely nude with your lower half on the other side of the divider and let him buckle down your hands. He pulled down a curtain and fastened it around your midriff, preventing you seeing anything on the other side of the thin wall, before padding around the other side.

Soft hands grasped your ankle, before lifting it up and securing it with a rope. One leg suspended, and those hands on the other ankle you felt something, that bastard!

You couldn't help but laugh and squirm, he was licking the sole of your foot, the tickling making you call out before he tied that one up too. "Just a taste, the men waiting will have free reign of anything this side of the curtain." A pause "Speaking of free reign"

The plug in your ass pushed deeper in. He must be pressing on it, the vibrations pulsing deeper in you. You squeaked as his other hand started working your pussy, a thumb circling your clit while fingers explored your folds. Then the plug was pulled out of you. Another pause. You felt something wet enter your rear. It wasn't his cock, you could guess that much, maybe two fingers? Another joined them, gently massaging your asshole. Your whines filled your ears, drowning out the sloppy sound of his hands in your ass and pussy.

Then nothing, "Blaidd" you whimpered at the deprivation

You heard him laugh and knock on the door "Ready" he called out, before appearing behind the divider again "I'll be here in a... Supervisory role, just for safety"

The hand stroking his cock said otherwise.

You heard the door open. Then a clinking sound. Something rested on your exposed pussy. You lifted your pelvis, gently rubbing yourself on it before it slid inside. The thrusting was slow at first. You bucked against it, trying to fuck yourself on whatever it was that's been put inside you. The man grunted and sped up.

"That's right" you growled "Fuck me properly"

You think he heard you. Hands grabbed your hips and he pulled himself into you. You could feel his balls slapping on you as he drove himself in and out. In and out. In and out. You started to moan. To look at Blaidd, stood there, absent mindedly rubbing his cock and staring at your rolling tits. "My mouth"

He looked at you, and raised an eyebrow

"Fuck my mouth, Blaidd"

The man behind the wall pushed in hard, you gasped as he squeezed your hips and twitched inside you. He hadn't lasted long enough

"I can't interfere, pet," Blaidd grinned at you "I'm just here to watch"

The man pulled out, something rubbed your leg, then the door again. You stared at Blaidd's grin as you felt someone push two fingers into you. Whoever this was, they knew what they were doing. The fingers pulled up against you, driving hard into your g-spot as a tongue started flicking at your clit. You could feel the previous man's cum leaking out of you as your pussy clenched harder and harder. You could see two wolves in front of you now, both holding that cock you wanted to taste so much.

The fingering stopped.

You cried out. Bucking madly hoping to find something, anything to rub against but only humping the air.

A slap came across your ass. Then another. Another. Another. You could feel it coming. With every slap across your ass. Again. Again.

A scream. You didn't register it as yours for a couple of seconds. Then you noticed you were panting

"Please, Blaidd, please" you begged, but he just grinned wider as a cock pushed into your squirming pussy and started rutting into you. You squeezed and bucked against him as he thrust. You wanted to milk him. The man pushed in and started to cum. More thick fluids deposited in you as he shuddered against you, before whipping himself out. Another rub on your bare thigh and the sound of the door again.

"Blai-dd" you moaned at him. You could see him leaking as he slowly pawed himself off, grinning at you, but still not touching

The door again, this time you could hear the man enter, hooves clopping on the ground.

An equine. You wondered if it was the one from the party. Whoever it was, he was huge. You felt the thick, flat-ended cock as he rested it on top of you.

It felt even bigger as it entered. He pushed it in gently at first. Your breathing catching and whining as it inched inside, stretching you around it. He started fucking. Pushing a little deeper every thrust. Slowly, painfully, he worked you down his length, every inch making you yelp and tear up until you were at his hilt. He waited a moment. The ridiculous cock deep in you. You noticed something: Your hips were moving. Even as this monster was stretching you, bringing tears to your eyes, you were getting off on it. The equine pulled himself almost out of you. You gasped as the flare on the end of his cock dragged against your insides, pulling out a trickle of fluids behind it until it paused, just the head inside you. You knew what was coming. You rolled your hips, hearing him moan as you edged him a little.

He thrust in. The breath was driven from you as it filled you. He was done being gentle. Each thrust drove the huge cock to your cervix, battering against it and making you cry out. You could feel yourself getting closer despite the pain, maybe because of it. Again and again he rammed into you, driving you further and further. He pushed in one last time. Pressed deepe into you than you've ever felt. He pumped wave after wave of cum into you. You could feel it dripping out of you as he started going soft inside you, his cock rapidly retracting into his sheath. Another touch on your thigh and he was gone.

One after another, men came into the room and had their way with you, one way or the other. Most used your soaking pussy, some preferring your ass, some would just finger you or eat you out to another screaming orgasm then leave.

All the while, Blaidd just stood there, stroking his cock and watching you beg him to finally give it to you.

A woman's voice came from the other side of the wall. "That's everyone, Mr. Blaidd, you've got an hour to get ready then we need to get the cleaning staff in"

Blaidd took out his phone and tapped a few buttons, then pulled on some boxers and started work on the buckles restraining you. He said something, but you didn't hear. You were watching the damp patch on his underwear. It was growing, little by little as his bulge twitched underneath.

Your torso was free. You bided your time.

He rounded the divider and pulled on the knots holding your ankles, releasing them. You gasped as your legs dropped, the sudden change of position feeling weird after spending hours suspended. You opened the divider and pulled your lower half in. Your thighs were covered in tally marks, you counted 28. Did 28 different men just finish in you? Or did everyone get a mark whether they did or not? You weren't paying enough attention to know for sure. There was only one cock you cared about now.

Just as expected. Blaidd came back to you, and sat next to you.

"Is that everything now" you asked, trying to seem innocent

"Yes, the money's been sent to your account. It should already have landed. It's been nice working with you"

He seemed withdrawn suddenly, almost bashful, sat there in nothing but his underwear.

"So what happens now?

"I'll stay here as long as you need, then I can give you a ride home" He looked down slightly, his tail hanging low and his ears drooping

"You'll give me a ride alright" You manhandled him down onto the bench and opened his flies. His still-throbbing cock sprung out, already lubed up with his precum.

His ears pricked up as you swung your leg over him and positioned his cock under you. "I'm not your whore any more, but I've seen how you look at me" he gasped as you lowered yourself onto his cock. Between the fluid on his cock and the cum oozing out of you there was no need for any foreplay.

His moans only got more intense as you rode him. Your pussy was already stretched out so you didn't struggle taking him. You could feel his knot under you. You pushed down on it, watching his face scrunch up, then relax into a hazy smile once it popped in.

Now the fun begins. You clenched your pelvic muscles, flexing your kegels against the knotted cock inside you. You kept riding him hard, feeling him fill you. You were almost there. Just a little more and...

There.

Your orgasm rocked through you. Easily the best one of the day as you pushed the knotted cock inside your aching cunt. Again and again you came for him without any breaks in between.

He must have been closer than you thought. He cried out and pulled you down onto him, spurting his load directly into your womb, half whining, half howling. You kissed. You lay there. His knot gradually deflated, slipping out and spilling cum over his underwear. You still lay there.

You cuddled until the door opened again and a pair of people in gloves and masks shooed you from the room, wrapping towels around you and pointing you to showers down the hall.

Sat outside the warehouse. Dressed in the clothes you wore this morning, waiting in Blaidd's car as he deals with the people inside.

You craned your neck to see the door, just as it opens and your wolf walked out. Back in his suit, as though nothing happened.

The car door opened and he sat next to you.

"I got a bit of a telling off for that, but we're hardly the first to overstay our booking, and we weren't actively fucking so it was more of a finger-wag than a warning"

"So... What happens now?"

"I told you" Blaidd sighed "The experiment's done. You've been paid, now you never need to see me again" his ears drooped again

"What if I want to see you?"

His gaze met yours "Well, the study was concerning purely transactional relationships, but that's done now so..."

You finished his thought "So we can still see each other?"

"If you want to, there's no reason we can't see where this goes?"

You kissed.

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you have become Mrs. Blaidd, and settled into a cushy PA role working for him. Mostly you re-enact your first meeting, and enjoy lavish lunches. Although you've had to cut down on crawling under the desk, and cut out drinking altogether.

After all, can't have alcohol with pups on the way

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cherry-memos · 2 months ago

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One of the key elements that make a story memorable is its characters. Whether they’re heroes or villains, the people we create in our writing need to feel unique, complex, and alive. It was a part of writing that I struggled with the most at the beginning. How do you make sure your characters stand out from the crowd? How do you give them a voice and presence that’s distinct and unforgettable?

Give Them Unique Voices

One of the easiest ways to make your characters feel distinct is to give each of them a unique voice. A character’s way of speaking—the words they use, the rhythm of their sentences, their tone—says a lot about them. A witty, sarcastic character will speak differently from someone who’s more reserved and thoughtful. You can achieve this by paying attention to how they express themselves, not just through dialogue but through their internal monologues as well. A character who’s quick-tempered might use short, sharp sentences, while someone more introspective might speak in longer, more reflective phrases. The key is consistency. Once you establish a character's way of speaking, try to keep it consistent throughout your story.

Focus on Their Backstory and Motivations

Every character is shaped by their past, even if you don’t fully show it on page. A character who grew up in a strict, loving household will behave differently than someone who had to survive in a rough, unpredictable enviromnent. You don’t need to go into every detail, but having a clear sense of where your character came from—and what they want in the present—will help guide how they act in different situations. Their goals, fears, and desires should reflect their decisions and relationships, making them feel more like real.

Give Them Distinct Physical Traits

Physical traits can help differentiate characters, but they should go beyond just eye color or height. Think about how a character’s appearance might reflect their personality or history. Maybe a character with messy hair and old clothes is someone who’s always in a rush or doesn’t care about their appearance. Perhaps a character who is meticulously groomed is someone who values control and order. Little details like this can communicate something about their character without you needing to say much. However, avoid making these physical traits stereotypes—make sure they reflect the essence of your character, not just visual clichés. (for the love of god stay away from the term orbs)

Let Them Have Quirks and Habits

The little things can go a long way in making a character feel real. Does your character always hum a certain tune when they’re nervous? Do they tap their fingers when they’re deep in thought? Maybe they have a habit of checking their phone obsessively, or they’re always keeping an eye of their loved ones around them. These quirks don’t need to be extreme or over-the-top, but they should feel like part of who the character is. Quirks can be small behaviors that reveal something about how the character thinks or feels, adding depth and individuality.

Use Their Relationships to Define Them

A character’s relationships with others play a huge role in how they’re perceived. How a character interacts with their friends, family, and even strangers can say a lot about who they are. Maybe your character is the life of the party with their friends but acts shy and withdrawn around authority. Maybe they’re confrontational and hot-headed with others but soft-spoken when talking to animals. These shifts in behavior show different sides of a character, making them feel more distinct. Additionally, relationships are often the best way to highlight a character’s growth—how they change based on their experiences with others can make them more dynamic and engaging.

Give Them Flaws and Vulnerabilities

No one is perfect, and neither should your characters be. Flaws and vulnerabilities not only make your characters feel more human but also give them room to grow throughout the story. Maybe your character is overly self-critical, or they struggle with trust issues. Perhaps they have a tendency to lie to protect themselves or they’re stubborn to a fault. These imperfections make characters relatable and provide opportunities for conflict and development. Flaws also allow you to play with how characters change over time. Do they learn to overcome their weaknesses? Do their flaws lead to their downfall? It’s up to you, but either way, giving your characters room to grow through their flaws adds another layer to their distinctiveness.

Avoid Making Them Too Predictable

While consistency in character traits is important, it’s also crucial to avoid making your characters so predictable that they feel boring. People are complex, and so should your characters be. Let them surprise readers by acting in unexpected ways. Maybe your tough, no-nonsense character suddenly shows kindness to someone they barely know, or a seemingly shy character makes a bold move when it matters most. These moments of complexity help break the mold and keep readers engaged.

These are just a few tips of mine for writing characters. Hope they help! :)

#writers on tumblr #blog #creative writing #writing tips #writers #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #writer stuff #writer problems

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recreationalfanfics · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking.

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums.

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it.

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you.

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment.

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!”

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face.

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-”

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most.

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again. You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser.

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

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soarelesiluna-ao3 · 3 months ago

Note

Would you consider writing some Tomasso x Lucio? I don't know what exactly, but I really enjoy their dynamic, they look like a married couple at times, so cute :(

FINALLY SOMEONE ASKS ME TO WRITE LUCIO X TOMMASO 😭😭😭

It's 5:17 am, I'm mega tired, but I wanted to write this short, cozy drabble because I've learned so much abt them lately and I really like their vibe 🥹 also I saw a post on my dashboard abt them and remembered this precise ask

So yeah, here you go kind anon 🥰

Content under the cut!

(Ps. Feel free to tell me y'all - who do you like Lucio the best with? Tommaso, Tommy, Olly, Achille? I wanna get writing more abt Lucio ships!)

Maremma mornings are just the best, Tommaso thinks to himself as he stares at the sea from the balcony. Lucio is still asleep, but he's already setting up breakfast for them both. Coffee, just the way they like it, biscotti, brioche buns, buttered toast, strawberry and orange jam, and freshly bought grapes and apples. A strange array of things, but they had figured the perfect combination just recently, while staying in Sanremo, and it would be a shame if the memory goes to waste so soon.

A gentle breeze hits Tommaso's face and he takes a deep breath. Lucio and him know each other all too well by now. They are what some can describe as "an item" - where one goes the other is sure to follow. Even for Eurovision, the biggest adventure of their lives yet.

That, and figuring Lucio's inner workings. He knows that the mime's head is always in constant motion, in patterns he sometimes can't decipher, but he thinks some things are slowly getting in place.

And like clockwork, the slender figure of his friend seems to leave his mind just to materialize as almost a ghost in a blanket, covered in a loose shirt apart from his pajama pants. Wearing nothing else. His hair is slightly greasy but not enough to be noticeable, and pretty wild since he hasn't clearly combed it. It seems as if he's half asleep.

"Morning..." His voice slowly seems to sing out, eyes closed and a blissful smile as slender arms hug Tommaso from behind.

"Lu, you should get dressed or something", he chuckles, but it's obvious it's not happening. "Take a seat, I just poured the coffee."

"Thaaaanks..." Another sleepy slur of a word. Lucio takes a sniff of the scent of coffee and let's out a pleased hum before he sips. His brown eyes slowly start opening to look at his partner. "Hi there."

"Hey, slept well?" Tommaso grabs a piece of brioche and starts tearing pieces to eat it with orange jam.

"I would've slept better if you didn't slip out of my arms..." It's rare to see Lucio pout like this, but it's a thing only he will see. "I was too comfortable."

"Someone ought to get breakfast done."

"Good point."

A moment of comfortable silence, only interrupted by the sound of waves, the clattering of plates and utensils, and sips. No need for words. Still, Tommaso is trying his best to read Lucio's wandering gaze, his beautiful profile looking in the direction of the sea, lost in thought. He still can't figure it out well. Maybe because Lucio's mind is still booting up like an old computer.

"I've been thinking of something but promise it won't weird you out", he speaks at last.

"Dude, you've been doing mime makeup and wacky clothes for years, I don't think I can get any more weirded out", Tommaso laughs. He knows the singer will not take offense to it. Instead, he laughs along and shakes his head.

"I've been thinking... A lot about the interviews and stuff. And particularly about the questions regarding love."

Tommaso stops in his tracks, and his heart clenchs for a moment. This is completely unexpected.

"Aha..."

"I'm truthful when I say I've never quite understood love, or felt romantic inclinations, or even thought of falling in love", the mime elaborates. "But... I've come to a conclusion. And that is... That if I were to fall in love with someone for the first time, I think it'd feel just as good as what we have now."

Now Tommaso's heart was racing like crazy. This took a turn for the absolutely unexpected.

"What?"

"I've just thought about it. Rewinded the Sanremo week a lot of times in my head, and then other events in our lives... And for me, it makes perfect sense."

"So... Are you saying you're in love with me?"

Lucio's hand slides over the table and gently grasps Tommaso's, slender fingers sliding over the back of his hand in slow caresses. The guitarist does not object.

"I'm not sure. But if I had to fall in love with someone, I think I'd choose you."

That is a good answer, damn it. Now Tommaso wants to get up from him place, pull him close, steal his breath with a kiss, a deep one, that makes him think about love again, that makes him discover love, that turns that pretty head around and makes him realize that life is much more than Moto Grand Prix and Randy Newman vinyls. But he doesn't. He can't let Lucio know how infatuated he is, how many nights he's spent wide awake, creating scenarios, thinking of his beautiful figure laying beside him, like most nights when they choose to share a bed and cuddle and Lucio becomes a big spoon. He doesn't want to kill what little of a loving flame has arisen too soon.

He'd rather slowly feed the fire than just put it out with a breath in trying to make it stronger. So he just smiles back, grabs Lucio's hand and kisses the back of it.

"Then let's put it to the test. Let me make you fall in love with me."

"Alright. Let's try, then. Thank you for not thinking badly of me."

"I could never, Lu."

The singer sips his coffee again, and a thought crosses his mind for a second. A thought that has never been there but got out so spontaneously it surprised even him.

It's not like you have to try too hard to succeed, Tommaso. You're almost there.

#rpf #sanremo rpf #lucio corsi #sslnrequests #eurovision #eurovision rpf #tommaso ottomano #Married couple vibes #fluff

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crossyourheartspreparetodie · 7 months ago

Note

Hey hey hey! It's my birthday soon if you can surprise me with a homely scenario with my favorite crackheads Allen, Nea and Tyki. Don't get me involved tho I'm only an observer 😁😁

Alright, so I'm not sure if I made it in time or not but Happy 24th birthday, belated or otherwise. I will apologize ahead of time for some things, it's been about three months since I last have written anything so thanks for the request. It made me realize how much I missed writing. Another note, there is some mention of Lavi x Tyki since for whatever reason that ship is burned into my brain lately? (Maybe it's a sign telling me I need to finally update my Lavi x Tyki fic? I dunno). I apologize if it seems rushed but I will be working and MIA for the next five days so I really wanted to get this done while I had time, so I hope it doesn't suck too hard ^^".

Also for anyone else wanting to read this fic there are Nea x Allen undertones. They're both teens in this and I don't know about your experiences with teenagers, but they make a lot of dirty jokes so expect that. Also they bully each other quite a bit in this fic but I think it fits their dynamic well! And of course, since this is a Cross blog, I have to add Cross somewhere in this, so he'll make an appearance as well.

Once again, Happy bday, I hope you had a lot of awesome food and cake and that it was a relaxing day!

"Dude, why the fuck does one of your dad's recipe books have the word orgasm in it?" asked a particularly tall and dark, curly-haired individual helping himself to whatever was in Cross's kitchen. One of these things was raiding his coffee supply so he could look after the two young troublemakers currently fighting over what flavor of cake they were making.

"Ooo, no way, seriously!?" the more diabolical of the two (cough cough Nea) chirped before making his way over to peer over Tyki's shoulder, his eyes alight with mischief. Upon glancing at the book, his golden eyes narrowed in irritation, and he snatched the book out of Tyki's hand.

"You dumb ass, that's oregano! Not to mention you've been holding it upside down," Nea snapped, thumping Tyki on the head with said book and tossing it aside. Then he turned onto his heel towards Allen, continuing the argument they'd been having. "As I was saying, we're making chocolate because it's as dark as my soul!"

"No way, edge lord. Chocolate is disgusting. Besides, you're in my house, so I get to decide what kind we make," Allen said with an annoyed pout as he gathered up a bowl and flour.

"Your house? Last time I checked, this was Cross's house, you moocher," Nea shot back as he went to the fridge to grab milk and eggs.

"Oi, I'm 16, asshole, and I have the means to pay my way. Speaking of Cross, if you don't quiet down, he's gonna find out what we're doing, and he'll kill me. He still hasn't forgiven me for the boiling water incident," Allen hissed.

"Dude, that was so fucking funny; I still don't know how you managed to set a boiling pot of water on fire," Nea laughed as he placed the ingredients down on the table next to Allen before rummaging through cabinets to find sugar.

Tyki choked on his cup of stolen coffee at that. "Wait, what!? Are you sure having him in here is a good idea? Actually, should either of you be doing this?"

"Why the fuck do you care, Tyki? It's not your kitchen," Nea reasoned, raising his eyebrow at his cousin.

"Ah, right," Tyki hummed as he took out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, are you high!? Put those away! You can't smoke in here!" Allen snapped, making a lunge for Tyki's cigarettes.

Tyki, unphased, simply raised said items above his head, blinking in mild surprise at Allen's outburst, "Why? What's the problem? I thought your old man smoked."

"He does, but he doesn't smoke that kind. He says those are for curly-haired fuckboy homewreckers." Allen huffed, trying to reach Tyki's smokes in vain.

"Ouch, it looks like someone is still pissed off about his older son's dating preferences. It's been like two months already; when is he gonna get over it?" Tyki commented with an eye roll.

"Hey, he's not the only one! You ever think of breaking Lavi's heart, and I'll cut out yours, including your most favorite part of your body," Allen threatened, making a pointed look down south before returning to Nea's side to begin putting ingredients into the bowl.

"You're just gonna stand there and let him threaten me like that?" Tyki asked, pocketing his smokes anyway.

"Yeah, cuz I think it's funny. Besides, you totally don't deserve anyone like Lavi. What he sees in you is beyond my comprehension," Nea said with an innocent smile, pausing momentarily to smack Allen's hand, who was trying to sneak a taste of a cake batter.

"Ow, you bitch!" Allen squeaked, rubbing his hand with a pout.

"Don't you put your grubby little commoner paws in the batter? The hell is wrong with you!?"

Allen gasped and touched his chest in mock hurt, "A grubby commoner!? I welcome you into my COMMONER home, let you use my COMMONER cooking utensils and ingredients, and this is the thanks I get!?"

"Ah, you're right; Cross would be the grubby commoner who thinks he is high class while you are the dirty little street rat he let crawl into his home. My bad," Nea purred before patting Allen's face endearingly.

"You're an entitled, snake-eyed prick," Allen huffed back before flicking Nea's forehead, who tried to grab Allen's hand and bite it.

"Mind telling me why you two are such good friends again?" Tyki asked, filling his coffee cup for the third time since getting here and wishing it was alcohol. He was way too sober to be babysitting these two morons right now.

"Belittling each other mercilessly is our love language- Ow Nea, your teeth are sharp!" Allen responded, trying to kick Nea in the shin.

"Ewgh, commoner blood. It tastes like depression and existential dread," Nea gagged, finally pulling away.

"Dude, you made me bleed!"

"Yeah, yeah, just don't get it in the cake," Nea said, waving him off as he began to crack some eggs.

"You know, for being scared about your old man waking up, you two are sure taking your sweet ass time getting the cake done."

"Well, jee, maybe we'd go a little faster if a certain hobo stopped drinking the entire coffee supply and helped out instead of making bitchy little comments," Allen growled, eyeing Tyki's cup in annoyance, "How many fucking cups is that? Do you know how expensive coffee is?"

"What do you even need help with?" Tyki asked, almost immediately regretting his decision when he saw Allen's face split into a mischievous smirk. He watched the teen turn on his heel and dig through the array of plastic bags on the counter. There, he pulled out a pack of balloons and approached Tyki before holding up said item.

"I'm so glad you asked my favorite neighborhood dumpster fire. I know you're quite good at blowing things, so I figured these would be right up your alley!" Allen chirped.

"Ha, blow job joke!" Nea supplied, cursing to himself when an eggshell landed in the cake batter.

"Oh my god, you whore, how many are you putting in!? Those are expensive, too!" Allen whined, shoving the balloons at Tyki's chest before returning to Nea.

"I'm doing exactly as the recipe said; stop nagging me!"

"Kid, you're fucking delusional if you think I'm going to blow up all these balloons by myself," Tyki deadpanned.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you smoke like a train. Yeah, the last thing you probably want is to die on my kitchen floor. I wouldn't mind, though, because I would find it hilarious. Plus, I would probably make your body do something embarrassing like pick your nose before rigor mortis sets in," Allen laughed, returning to rummaging around in the plastic bags once again and producing a helium tank.

"Here you go," Allen chirped, setting the tank down next to Tyki with a sweet and serene smile as if he wasn't just talking about the morbid idea of Tyki dying.

"You wouldn't do that; Lavi would be devastated," Tyki shot back before he began to play with the tank to understand how it worked.

"When it comes to history and other random shit, Lavi is a beast, but when it comes to dating…" Allen trailed off.

"He's a delusional dumb bitch with the worst track record I have ever seen," Nea deadpanned.

"Thank you, Nea," Allen cooed, walking back over to watch Nea mix the ingredients together.

"Hey, you better watch it. One day, I might just end up being your brother-in-law," Tyki hummed with a teasing smirk as he began to fill up balloons.

"Yeah, sure, that'll be the day-Tim stop trying to EAT THE DAMN CURTAINS!?" Allen yelped, stomping to the window where a toothy, yellow golem was hanging precariously. Upon being spotted, the golem tried to chew the curtains even faster, much like a dog, knowing it was getting into something it knew it shouldn't. Allen snatched the poor thing up by its tail and growled a single command, "Drop it!"

With a pathetic, mechanical whimper, the golem spat out the curtain and hung from Allen's hand in defeat.

"But Father, he hungers," Nea teased.

"Hungers? Yeah, hungers to watch me get throttled by Cross's hands more like. Stay off the curtains; you're better than that," Allen scolded, shaking the golem in his hand until it swung back and forth and produced tiny tears from only God knows where.

"Stop it, you're gonna give him shaken baby syndrome," Nea giggled, quickly sticking the cake into the oven before poking at the pathetic little being that hung from Allen's grip.

"No, he must learn not to be a crackhead!" Allen growled, holding the golem at eye level and scrutinizing him. His eyes narrowed further as Tim wiggled his tiny nubs at his face, begging for forgiveness.

With a huff, Allen leaned forward to kiss the golem, "Fine, I forgive you. For now. Don't do it again."

"Now begone thot!" Allen declared, letting Tim's tail go and watching as the creature flew over to the table to see if there were any leftovers he could get into.

"Damn, that golem has more cake than any human I've ever seen," Nea commented, making a disgusted face as he watched Tim devour some eggshells.

"Don't comment on his butt cheeks. He gets self-conscious. Come, let's see how your hobo cousin is doing on the balloons!" Allen said before grabbing Nea's arm and marching towards Tyki.

While they waited for the cake to bake, the two joined Tyki and helped him blow up balloons. This should've made the older man happy because more people doing the task would have made it quicker to finish. Right? Wrong. Not with these two knuckleheads.

"Hey Allen, check this out," Nea said, an impish smirk plastered on his face as he took one of the balloons he was filling up and inhaled some of the helium.

"Hey Allen, do you think my voice sounds weird?" Nea asked, his voice sounding like a deranged chipmunk.

Allen's eyes widened comically at the drastic voice change. Ah, apparently, Tweedle Dee hadn't had much experience with helium before. Well, this should be interesting…

"What? Oh, don't tell me you've never played with helium before," Nea teased before breathing in some more and asking in a sultry voice, "Tell me, Allen, do you think my voice sounds sexy? You know you always wanted to bang a guy who sounded like a chipmunk, right? Ooh yes, harder, daddy~."

Tyki rolled his eyes as the two idiots began to cackle and say stupid, sexual things to each other. He decided to mind his own business and fill up another balloon. Ugh, teenagers.

"Mmm, yes, beg like the slut you are~" Allen cooed back after inhaling some of the helium from the balloon he held in his hands.

"Mmm fuck~"

"Aaah~"

"Ohhhh~"

"Will you two idiots knock it off? Your sex noises are annoying," Tyki snapped, holding the helium tank valve threateningly at the two teenagers who were cackling like hyenas on crack.

"Awhhh I think someone is jealous," Nea cooed as he reached for the helium valve.

"Yeah, Tyki, why don't you remove that giant stick up your ass and live a little," Allen egged on.

"I'm not jealous, and I don't have a giant stick up my ass; I just think you two suck at making sex noises," Tyki bitched, pulling the valve away with a warning look, "Boy, you're crazy if you think you're gonna huff this shit right out of the tank."

"Oh really? Well, why don't you show us how it's done, Mr. Casanova? I bet you sound like a wheezing grandpa in bed," Allen remarked with a shit-eating grin.

"Oh, come on, I don't smoke that much; I've done a pretty good job not touching my cigarettes so far, haven't I?"

Nea sucked more helium from his balloon before saying in a psychotic, high-pitched tone, "Come on, Tyki, come play with us~."

"Come play with us, Tykiii~" Allen chimed in.

Tyki rolled his eyes but decided to comply if it would shut these two loonies up for a bit. Allen and Nea leaned forward, their eyes wide and curious about how Tyki would sound on helium.

"Mmm, you like that, don't you? Why don't you bend over and show me how much you want me," Tyki moaned, trying to make his voice sound husky and seductive, which would've been more effective had he not sounded like a demonic, perverted chipmunk.

Allen screamed in laughter, doubling over until he practically rolled on the floor in amusement, "Y-Y-You sound so s-stupid!"

"W-Wait, d-do it again; I-I wanna get it on camera to show Road!" Nea said through fits of laughter.

"No way, if Sheril found out, he'd implode! Actually…that wouldn't be a bad idea…at least with him out of the picture, I wouldn't have to listen to his constant bitching," Tyki mused before he loomed over the red-faced Allen. Feeling a desire to torture the brat a little more, he whispered, "Bite the pillow, Pinocchio. I'm going in dry."

Allen shrieked and tried to back away from Tyki in amused horror, "S-Stop it! M-My stomach hurts!"

"Mmm, disgusting perv," Nea hummed to himself before sniffing the air, "Ah, hey, is the cake burning?"

Allen, who was dying, suddenly turned serious as he whipped his head toward the oven, "Whoa, wait! What!? Ah fuck! Nea, I thought you were watching the time!"

"No, I thought you were watching the time."

"Oh, so neither of you was watching the time?"

"Shut up, Tyki, not now!" Allen yelped as he quickly grabbed an oven mitt and reached inside to pull out the cake pan. Nea peered over Allen's shoulder, eyeing the cake for any signs of black burned bits. "Whoops, false alarm. It looks done to me."

Allen slowly turned around to give Nea the nastiest, most fed-up look he could muster. Nea, in response, batted his eyes up at Allen and reached up to boop his nose before scurrying off to the table to begin making the icing.

As Allen plotted his friend's death in his head, Timcanpy had flown off to find a certain slumbering redhead that somehow managed to sleep through all the racket thus far. Tim glided soundlessly into his bedroom and went over to the mess of red hair before landing in it and nuzzling the man's head affectionately. The golem made some sort of fucked up purring noise and nibbled at a particularly stuck-up strand of hair, attempting to wake the sleeping figure peacefully.

Well, of course, that didn't work out because Cross happened to be sleeping like a rock.

So Timcanpy used another sinister method, one that he liked to use quite frequently: crawling over and chomping his ear.

"Ow! What the fuck!? Tim, you little shit!" Cross yelled, shooting up in bed and grabbing at his throbbing ear in irritation. He then turned his eye towards the golem who woke him up so rudely, seething in anger. He grabbed Tim by the tail, holding him up to glare, "What the fuck was that for!?"

Tim wriggled about a little in his initial panic before remembering why he was there. He still hadn't forgiven Allen for thwarting his plans to eat the curtains and decided he would get revenge. With a grin, Tim opened his mouth and proceeded to show Cross a projection of just what his brat had been up to downstairs.

Cross narrowed his eye, immediately recognizing Allen in the kitchen…and with that horrible influence of a brat Nea Campbell! It's not that Cross flat-out hated the kid; in fact, some of his mischievous antics were entertaining. It's just that sometimes he could go too far. Well…I guess it was better Allen had someone else with him in the kitchen. Hell, it seems like they did a pretty good job not fucking shit up so far. But damn it, why was it, Nea!? Besides, why the fuck were they even making a cake!?

Then the projection shifted over to Tyki, and Cross felt his blood boil. What the fuck was that asshole doing here!? Drinking his coffee nonetheless!? Ok, that's it! Tolerating the fuckboy dating his eldest son was one thing, but Lavi wasn't even here right now! Or at least he should be at work! He was not gonna put up with this asshole coming around whenever he wanted; he already had to hold his tongue when he happened to come over to visit Lavi!

"The brats are dead," Cross growled as he flung the bedsheets off and stormed downstairs. His bedhead made him all the scarier.

Meanwhile, the brats were fighting over a tube of icing, and of course, Nea had the upper hand.

"Ahahaha, you should look at your face! It looks like it's c-"Nea laughed, getting interrupted by a well-placed jab in his ribs that made him lower his arms just enough for Allen to grab the icing.

"Nea, you ass! Now it's your turn! Now open that pretty little mouth of yours and take it like the little bitch you are!" Allen exclaimed, holding the tube of icing above Nea's face with a demonic grin.

Nea, being the little shit he was, smiled sweetly and purred, "Oh, but of course, daddy~."

Just as Allen squeezed a dollop of the white sugary sweet into Nea's mouth, the enraged Cross stormed into the kitchen. Nea's eyes flitted over to the pissed-off redhead and smiled politely, "Oh, hello, Mr. Cross; Allen and I were just playing~."

"Oh fuck!" Allen cussed, immediately pulling away from Nea and dropping the tube of icing on the table, his face turning beet red.

"Yeah, oh fuck. Mind telling me what the fuck you two are getting into and why Mr. Fuckboy McGee is in my house?" Cross asked, kicking a stray balloon away from him and leaning against the doorjamb.

"Fuckboy McGee?" Tyki commented, putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt. Cross shot him a dirty look that instantly made Tyki shut his mouth. Once he was sure Tyki would keep his trap shut for the next few minutes, he looked back over to his brat, who was scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"U-Uhm, well, we're making a birthday cake and stuff for a friend…" Allen tried to explain.

"And you decided to use my kitchen instead of going to Nea's house?"

"Skinn would've had a shit fit if we made a cake and wouldn't let him eat it…and Road would pester us into a fit of madness," Nea explained sweetly.

Cross sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Alright, so the kid was just trying to do something nice for a friend; he can't get totally mad at him for that, right? Plus, even amidst their dorky shenanigans, the brats didn't burn down his kitchen, so that was good, right?

"Still, that doesn't explain why he's here," Cross growled, jabbing a thumb at Tyki.

"He's the designated babysitter…but we're also using him for transportation," Nea said, ignoring the splutter Cross produced at "designated babysitter." That man!? A babysitter!? He couldn't even babysit a pet rock!

"Ugh…whatever. I guess you succeeded in not fucking up anything, so I can't be too mad…just clean up after yourselves," Cross huffed in defeat before pushing himself off the doorjamb and to the living room to see what was on TV.

"O-Okay," Allen stammered out, giving Nea a look that said, 'Holy shit, he's not gonna kill us!'.

Nea gave Allen a look of his own that said, 'No shit, dumb ass, don't ever doubt me again.'

"Alright, well, the only thing left is the candles!" Allen chirped as he turned around to rummage through the bags once again. I got some super dope looking ones on sale! We should light one up to see what it looks like!"

"You got 24 of them, right?" Nea asked, walking over to Tyki to steal his lighter. Tyki gave his younger cousin a dirty look but allowed him to take it for now.

"Of course!" said a confident Allen as he snatched the lighter from Nea's hand and lit up the 'candle' in his hand without hesitation.

"Dude, those are some strange looking candles-OH MY GOD ALLEN THAT'S A FIREWORK!"

"W-Wait w-what!?" Allen shrieked, staring at the lit fuse in horror as it began to snake down to his hand. He pranced around, looking for a place to drop said firework.

"Dude, just drop it!"

"Where!?"

"Anywhere! Quick, before it blows up!" Nea yelled as he took the firework from Allen's hand and threw it off to the corner.

"Fuck! Hit the ground!" Tyki yelped as he shoved the two brats under the table, himself included, just as the firework exploded in the kitchen. The flying projectile proceeded to ricochet all about Cross's kitchen, breaking the light fixture and knocking over the mixing bowl and a clock hanging nearby before landing on the cake. As Cross stormed back into the kitchen to figure out just what the hell was going on, the smoke alarm decided now would be the best time to start blaring. Great…well, so glad that was working. Too bad that wouldn't save Allen from meeting his doom.

Cross's eye flitted about the kitchen before landing directly on his brat who smiled sheepishly up at his guardian. As Cross approached, Tyki and Nea, with good judgement, backed far away from Allen. Cross plucked the firework out of the cake and kneeled down to hold the offending object up to Allen's face.

"Aheheh….oops," Allen laughed nervously, his face turning pale as Cross's face turned dark with rage. He swore he could see a vein begin to pop out on the man's forehead.

Then Cross smiled and began to count down, "10…9…8…"

Allen gulped and scrambled out from under the table before taking off in a full-on sprint out of the house with his guardian quick on his heels, screaming, "When I catch you, you're dead!"

Tyki and Nea watched the display, Nea looking bored and Tyki blinking owlishly. Nea sighed and stretched his arms over his head before turning on his heel to collect the mixing bowl that miraculously survived its tumble to the floor. "Well, guess I better get to work; a new cake isn't just going to pop out of thin air."

"Wait, shouldn't we be running after Allen to ensure Cross doesn't kill him?"

Nea shrugged, washing the bowl in a nearby sink. "Nah, Allen is a pretty resourceful guy; he can handle it."

Tyki grabbed his lighter from the ground and withdrew a cigarette from his pocket. He lit up the cancer stick, inhaled, and slowly released the smoke towards the shrieking smoke alarm, "Yeah…maybe you're right."

"Of course I am; I'm always right," Nea shot back snottily before demanding, "Well, don't just stand there! Make yourself useful and turn that blasted thing off! It hurts my ears!"

"Yes Princess Nea…"

#ask answered #d gray man #dgm #allen walker #nea campbell #tyki mikk #dead ass did not know if Nea and Tyki were cousins or not but we ball #cross marian #nea x allen vibes #mention of Lucky Pair

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tryingtimi · 2 years ago

Note

A Home So Far, Yet So Near

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan. It was a song you showed me, and I immediately started writing a Metalsea bit for it. And now I ended up finishing it, after many many months, lol. So thank you, love! I don't think it needs so much context, it's just a little siblings dynamic exploration between Syon and Avelyn.

TINY CONTEXT: Avelyn and Syon weren't so close when they were little, and their paths separate. After a long-long time, they meet again, and have some bonding time.

BOOK II EXPLORATION | DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | MOSTLY FLUFF | SISTER DYNAMIC | WC: 1787

Yaran’s Mid-Summer Festival held such a strange version in its glowing belly.

Avelyn smiled at Cronyl, suppressing a sigh.

The grandiose bonfire crackled in the centre of the desert, people dancing and singing around. They ate, drank, and celebrated in a way that could nearly convince Avelyn that life wasn’t fully known back in her home. Bra’aka could lure even Cronyl to the dancefloor, teasing relentlessly about his make-believe inability. They did not last too long, yet the ghostly touch of a smile still rested on his lip when he walked back to her. Since then, they sat on the two sides of this rough stone table, watching the lot, hands touching on the top just enough to feel the other’s presence.

Avelyn should have wanted to dance with Cronyl. Every couple did that. She, however, was overwhelmed by another feeling. She loved to be around Cronyl, she wanted to be around him. But tonight, for the longest time perhaps, her mind was not focused on him. Tonight, she looked at the colorful, gemlike fire lamps and saw herself as a kid, reaching for them to grab it; just like a little one did the same thing not far from them. Tonight, she noticed the rigid little stumbles she and Syon made, when they practised the required siblings dance — exactly like two little ones on the edge of the dancefloor. Tonight, the sweet-scented desserts on the tables have made her see herself nervously pulling on Father’s clothes to get his attention and let Syon convince him to buy them some. Just like the Shar-Dlin twins did, doe-eyes watching the desserts intently on the food table.

Tonight, Avelyn realized this Mid-Summer Festival wasn’t so much different after all. If only this epiphany could have filled the hollow that a home being out of reach has left.

“Shall we?” The voice of crackling fire asked, earning her attention.

Avelyn looked up to find her sister standing before her, one delicate hand extended forward. Her features bore the same calm confidence she used to see in her in their entire life. Yet, she could also see her shoulders slump in a way that others might have missed. But not Avelyn.

Not her.

Avelyn accepted the hand. It was a strange feeling really, her hand in Syon’s. Something she rarely experienced, even in their childhood.

She rose from her seat and was about to turn to Cronyl so she could inform him — or ask for reassurance of her decision. However, he was already walking past Syon’s back. One, metal-focused eye glanced at Avelyn and a slight nod made her feel gratefulness bloom in her chest. If someone, Cronyl knew way too well when to be on his way.

With that, Avelyn stayed alone with her sister. Syon held her hand carefully, but firmly, leading her onto the dance floor. Only then, did Avelyn notice how the gathering settled and slowed down. The fire still flickered and blazed at the centre, but there were very few people standing. The music died out, so the only melody came from the djanvaar’s gentle humming. Fluttering, playing starbugs conquered the dance floor, tiny explosions of their small stars lighting up even more. She wondered if the old tales had been right; that wild starbugs only did that if they were happy.

Syon stopped them in the middle, equally far from everyone and everything. She then turned to Avelyn and slid her hand over her waist. Such a strange feeling still. Avelyn did the same, noticing her movements being more rigid than relaxed. It wasn’t something she was used to. Yet she wanted to stay.

So she lifted her gaze to look into her sister’s eyes.

Bad idea.

They were staring at her as well, both of that unusual tinge she only saw on warriors. Syon never failed to seem intimidating or let her gaze be just a little less intense. That was one of the reasons why Avelyn never really locked eyes with her.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” She didn’t mean to speak, but she couldn’t stop herself either. “This festival. So strange. I mean, what they did with all these plants as decoration and the djaanvar as some kind of musicbox. It’s eccentric the least. Can you imagine what Mother would think?”

Children laughed in the background, their voices turning small but just as full of joy as before. Syon scoffed, yet a genuine half-curve painted her face softer instead of the humourless smile she always gifted people with.

“She’d be out of her mind. But she’d enjoy the dance, if Father would ask her for a round, that is,” she chuckled, and Avelyn needed to swallow back a surprised gaping. A similar giggle left her throat, as unintentional as unstoppable.

Their bare feet tapped the warm ground close beside each other, Syon’s presence ruling their dance. She guided Avelyn’s movements just like she did when they were small. Those lessons were one of the most challenging in their childhood. She remembered clearly because they were a spectacle back then, the peculiar siblings who were not easy to forget.

She felt a gentle push on her back, looking back into Syon’s eyes.

“Do you remember our dance lessons?”

Avelyn opened her mouth, then looked at her feet that almost stepped on Syon’s accidentally. Her feet avoided Avelyn’s as proficiently as always, smoothing out their performance the best she could. Yet, no force was in her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Avelyn started, trying to lean back. Syon let her. “Clearly, I do.”

Another chuckle joined the humming of the djaanvar.

“You’re doing great, Lyn. Dance Master Liona would be proud. She’d even forgive all the headache we gave her.” They turned, the flames coming to Avelyn’s sight, outlining Syon’s form like blazing fireflies in the night. “She might never forget us.”

“Not much sibling pair made her nearly quit. We could thank Father’s soft-spoken charm that she stayed — that’s what Mother told me.”

The memory came alive in the fire’s flickers, Avelyn’s eyes following their little forms sway to one side and the other. Rigid hands touched, a gaping distance laying between their child flame-figure. Too much distance. “Closer!” and “Act like you’re siblings” faintly echoed in her ears.

She held Syon’s sparkling crimson eyes and found herself smiling with her.

Her body remembered the tension of those touches. Of being so close to the girl who shared the same blood with. Of fear, terrible fear from dancing with a sibling that was no more than a stranger.

“I’m so sorry, Lyn,” Syon whispered, yet it could be heard loud and clear. Confident. Genuine. Avelyn kept the scratching feeling in her throat at bay, forcing herself to keep looking at her sister. To keep listening to her. “I know I’ve been always farther away than I should have been. There is no excuse for that, though I had many. You tried to come close, yet I did not let you. I believed you chose the Temple only to pull yourself out of the noble betrothal misery. At some point, I believed you did it just to let every responsibility of our house fall on me, and me only.”

A feather touch weighed on Avelyn’s back, asking — begging to come a little closer.

She did so.

“I’m aware that was foolish,” Syon continued, voice softer than Mother’s night song. Softer than Avelyn had ever heard. “You might have had a shard of that reason, but I know you merely wanted to get away. From Mother, from Father… from me. You need connections, I realise that now. People to be close with, to be open with. You care so much, it’s frightening. Especially for someone like me. I felt threatened by you, I confess. I envied your ability to read people the way you did; with ease and compassion. And that made me bitter, because compassion I lack, even still…”

“No.” Avelyn’s voice was but a whisper, but nothing had sounded clearer. Syon smiled, her eyes misting the most subtle way. “You do not, sister. I was just as selfish, only more of a coward. You faced your duties and expectations with valiant grace. You had every right to…”

“Lyn.”

A delicate finger, tangled with Avelyn’s, swiped a single teardrop away from her cheek. So kind. So close. So tender. Hearing the kind little nickname Father gave her constantly rolling off of Syon’s lips made her own quiver. All the memories of the lonely girl practising dances in her room alone faded, longing for affection withering away. A glance, a joke, a smile. Everything her soul starved for from a sister out of reach. It twirled in the fire, slowly blending into smoke, and joining the cooling air around them.

Syon embraced her, when Avelyn dared leaning over her shoulder, cheek pressed in the crook of her neck.

“Let me have my regrets, and I let you have yours. Both of us learned and changed, all right? And oh how you did so. I regret how I pushed you away, how I abandoned you, but I am exceptionally proud of who you became, little sister. It was and still is all you. I can only hope you are to forgive me, so I can keep watching your path of becoming an incredible woman even further.”

Words crackled in her throat along with the fire’s flames, hands holding each other so close, that Avelyn found it hard to believe. A soft, silent hiccup left her lips when she felt a distant wetness on her shoulder.

“Not only me. I wanted to become like you, sister. Your memory gave me strength when I used up mine. Even if you couldn’t give me affection, you gave me strength. You gave me will and a role model. I regret not being able to stand beside you when we were little, but I am grateful for a bastion in need,” she breathed, losing herself in the swaying.

A throaty giggle made Syon’s chest resonate, making Avelyn smile along under her closed, drenched lashes. A bastion in need; Father’s attempt to be romantic with Mother. Their only humour source from their childhood.

Huddled beside the fire, Avelyn could still feel the chill that slowly settled onto the horizon, but she was not cold in the embrace of her sister. They stayed tangled, close as never before, until the fire began to flicker. Syon hummed with the djaanvar, yet not the same melody, but an old song they used to sleep to. Avelyn couldn’t help, but join, feeling a weight so profound crumble. She might have been a great distance away from home, yet she did not feel the absence anymore.

Not beside Syon, her sister.

#Project Metalsea #Metalsea snippets #fantasy #Metalsea: The Lost Empire #writeblr #writing community #not really wintery only in the sense that everything that nostalgic is wintery/ autumny for me lol #the context might be too vague to feel the weight of things but oh well #sorry loves #Avelyn Dione #Syonehlia Dione

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

Text

—inked; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1k words. ʚ reader is a tattoo artist, kaz brekker needs a tattoo. there's a lot of yearning involved. ʚ non-descriptive needle and tattoo stuff; slight angst. ʚ a/n you can tell i don't know how tattoos work.

Kaz Brekker should stop trying to find a reason to knock on your door. He should step back, tilt his head down and walk away as if he was never there in the first place. It was becoming a habit and habits meant comfort and comfort usually became root for something more—something that someone like him couldn't grow beyond a sprout when you deserved the whole forest.

Yet he stayed stubbornly at your door.

He was a selfish man in that regard.

He could hear you shuffling behind the door and then the rattle of your keys, followed by a soft click of your door being unlocked. You pulled the door open a smidge.

“Kaz!”

He wished you didn't sound so happy to see him. Then, he wouldn't feel welcomed to come back the next time and the next time and the next. He didn't want to make a habit out of it, but he was here yesterday and four days ago and a week ago. He had a feeling that he would be here in the near future as well.

Your door swung open immediately. You were wearing casual clothes, comfortable for sleeping, instead of your usual coats and leathers. It was a welcome change. It made his visits feel more personalised, like he was the only one to see you as you were and not as you wanted him to.

“What brings you here tonight?” you asked, already leading him to sit on the upholstered couch in your room. It used to be your bed, before you saved enough for a real one. Now, it nestled itself in one corner of your room for rare visitors. The only one who ever came by your rented room in Ketterdam was Kaz lately.

“I want to get a tattoo.”

His eyes wandered to your walls, littered with inked drawings of past tattoo designs you had done. You worked at a tattoo parlour that fell in the Dregs' territory. Many of the new members had their tattoos done at your workplace. You had even inked a few of them yourself.

“The shop opens in a couple of hours,” you said. “We can wait—”

“Not at the shop, if you can,” he interrupted. He didn't think he could bear having other people in the same room. He didn't think he wanted someone else to potentially do it as well. He came to you because he trusted you. He had spent too many nights awaiting dawn with you. He had told you too many secrets he shouldn't have. You had told him things about yourself that you probably shouldn't. He came to you when nothing went right. He came to you when everything went the way it should. You waited for him after a good day. You still waited even after a bad day.

It was a strange dynamic.

It should feel like he was skeeting over the edge of a chasm, but it felt more like the gentle hum of his room at the Slat. Steady, familiar four walls that served as a respite from the debauchery of the Barrell.

“Of course,” you agreed. It took you less than five minutes to gather everything you needed. Fortunately, you had gone on a supply run for the shop earlier. You were planning to bring everything to the shop when it opened, but you'd be needing them earlier than you thought.

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you joked. “I could write 'Ketterdam's biggest loser' on your arm.”

“It would suit you better than me.”

You chuckled. He thought it would sound good on vinyl. He could listen to it for hours.

“Rule one, Brekker. Never insult the person who's putting permanent ink on you.” You shot him a glare, but you were smiling. It was inexplicably easy to smile around him. “What are you thinking?”

“The Dregs tattoo, on my arm.” He rolled his sleeves and your heart was beating twice as fast. Unbeknownst to you, his was as well. He had never bared a part of himself so casually before. You had never seen him without all his layers—all the protection over his skin.

Your machine whirred to life. You disinfected his skin with a couple swipes of a disinfectant pad. His whole body tensed when you made contact, despite your gloves.

“Hey, Kaz.” You pulled his attention away from where you'd touched him. “I won't hurt you.”

You held out your gloved palm. With your free hand, you took his gloved hand and set it gently over your palm. He inhaled sharply.

“It's okay. It's just me.”

He trailed a finger softly over your palm. There was a barrier between your skins, but it was daunting all the same. He took a couple of deep, spaced breaths with closed eyes. When he opened them, you were smiling encouragingly at him.

“You can start,” he said, but almost immediately regretted it when you pulled your hands away.

“There will be slight pain,” you said over the whirring of your machine.

He scoffed. “I know pain better than—”

He cursed, inhaling sharply when first contact broke his skin.

You rolled your eyes. “I warned you, Brekker.”

Stray hairs fell over his forehead. “I was startled.”

His eyes were tracing the lines of your face as you worked. The proximity started to feel somewhat comfortable, with the lull of your tattoo machine. You occasionally hummed as you worked. He etched the sound into his mind. You weren't a singer, but he preferred your voice over any performers.

“Done!” you suddenly proclaimed. He looked away and cleared his throat. “What do you think?”

The crow and cup over his right forearm. A permanent mark that he was Dirtyhands of the Dregs. No deed too low for him as long as there was enough Kruge involved. Was that all who he really was?

“Can you add another? A small one,” he rasped.

“Certainly, Kaz. What is it?”

“The letter R, here,” he pointed at his bicep. “For the boy I was. For my brother.”

“I wish I could've met him, you know. Jordie.”

Kaz wished so, too. A foolish wish. Ketterdam didn't groom him to be a wishful thinker. Hope was a dangerous, dangerous thing. He should leave.

“Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I overstepped.”

Kaz's eyes widened. “No. You're okay.”

It was him.

“Then stop looking like you're ready to bolt anytime, Kaz. I happen to appreciate your company.”

“Oh.”

He let hope force its way in and make a nest in his chest anyway.

[ ]

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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h-c-u · 2 years ago

Text

No Longer a Secret pt 6

Summary: The one with A LOT of planning and phone-calls.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

W/C: 7.1k

Rating: PG, age gap

TWs: none

A/N: So... I honestly wasn't planning on writing it today, but welp - it kinda spilled, so here we go... There is not a lot of action in this one, but a few Original Characters were very briefly introduced. Most of them will become a part of this story, so if you have any questions about them - please feel free to ask. One day, when there will be more of them included, I will most likely make a separate post dedicated to them, but for now - there are comments, asks, and messages :)

Taglist: @crimeshowjunkie, @omgsuperstarg

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | List of tags | Playlist for the series

Of course, there was a party after the race. Your first one with the team... And you seriously considered it being the last one, because currently you could hear the grass growing with your whole body and it hurt like a motherfucker. How the rest of the people on the jet weren't hungover? You had no idea. It must have been witchcraft. Because you couldn't explain it any other way, since you were the youngest of them all.

There was some light teasing, but after they realized how genuinely miserable you were, they stopped, and someone even brought you another alka-seltzer, a bottle of cold water, and chewing gum, for which you were extremely grateful because without it you would have definitely thrown up when the plane was climbing to the higher altitudes.

When it was safe to unbuckle the belts, everyone started moving and making conversation. Still, you were definitely not in the right state of mind for any of that, so when Toto motioned you closer to him, you gladly did just that and sat across his lap, with your legs over the soft armrest. He reclined the chair, so you would be more laying on your left side than sitting, which helped relieve the heartburn almost instantly. He was so gentle with you, that you almost melted into his soft shirt that smelled faintly of the detergent he used at home. With his one arm supporting your back and the other resting on your thighs, you felt much better.

You could see the other people trying to hide the surprised looks on their faces at the sight of you two cozying up because even though your relationship was no longer a secret, it must have been a little bit weird to witness the casual physical affection for the first time. But if you were completely honest, you didn't mind. You were all still getting used to the new dynamic between you and them, so it was only natural that it might take some time. And they weren't exactly weird or uncomfortable either, so you knew that sooner rather than later all the wrinkles will iron themselves out.

- Schatzi, we were supposed to decide on who should do the interview... - Toto said quietly, gently rubbing his thumb over your thigh. You honestly forgot about it, so you were glad that he brought it up. - But if you're not up for it now...

- No, I'm good, I'm good. - you said with a weak smile. - But after running it over and over in my head, I honestly think that Laura would be the best choice. - you stated, and when normally you would look up at him, this time you kept your head on his shoulder and kept your eyes closed.

- The talk show host? - he knew who Laura was from your stories, but he still made sure.

- Yes. In the past she had a few special episodes dedicated to interviewing one person when the topic was hot, so we could fit into that category. - you started explaining, and your warm breath tickled Toto's neck, which made him scrunch his nose and smile. - She's known for not taking any bullshit, so she definitely wouldn't go easy on us, but her reputation and the fact that it would air on BBC would give it more weight. - you explained the reasons behind this choice, and Toto only hummed in agreement.

- Don't you think we're a bit too low on a food chain to appear on her show? Doesn't she host celebrities? - those questions were genuine, and under normal circumstances, you would have agreed. But you two unintentionally became a sensation overnight and even people outside of the racing community were interested in you as a couple.

- She does, but right now... Let me show you, it will be quicker. - you mumbled and reached for your phone, but it was in your bag, so instead you took his from the table, unlocked it, typed his name into the browser, and showed him the screen with numerous headlines. "Toto Wolff is a spoken man and ladies are howling", "19 things surprisingly younger than the age gap between Toto Wolff and Y/n Y/ln.", "What do we know about Toto Wolff and Y/n Y/ln?", "Y/n Y/ln - from a respected reporter to a WAG of Toto Wolff" and many, many more.

- I see... - you could tell he wasn't exactly enjoying this type of attention, but you couldn't do anything about it right now.

- I'm sorry, I could have planned it better... - you mumbled quietly and put your head back on his shoulder.

- It's not your fault, Schatzi. - he squeezed your body a little bit tighter and placed a soft kiss on your temple. - I just wasn't expecting it to blow up to this degree. But we'll get through it together. - you could hear a smile in his voice. - So. Laura? - he circled back.

- Yes, Laura. She'll be tough, but if we ask her to avoid specific topics, she will. And that reminds me... Our families. - you sighed. Because you were so caught up in the heat of the moment, and then the race, that you didn't fully grasp the number of things you haven't thought about. - My mother is one thing and I will deal with her, but your kids... At the party, you told them you were going to call them back. - you reminded him, because you weren't exactly sure how much of last night he remembered, and his son called him rather late.

- Thank you, I'll do that when we land. I would also like you to officially meet them sooner rather than later if that's ok with you. - you weighed his words for a short moment in your head, considering if Toto having some time alone with them first wouldn't be better, just to let all the possible emotions out, and answer all the questions without an outsider present, but on the other hand they could read it as him trying to hide you from them.

- Of course. Let me know when, and I'll make the time. - from what Toto told you about them, it shouldn't be that hard, and you hoped that seeing with their own eyes exactly how much you loved their father would help, although you felt like you were starting from a weak position. Fortunately, Toto already told them that he was seeing someone around half a year ago, but he hasn't told them specifically who. So, finding out from social media or worse - their friends might have been hard.

Even though his face was donning a gentle smile, it wasn't hard for you to notice that he was in a sour mood, but you also knew it was temporary. He liked to have everything covered, and the whiplash of your announcement wasn't something he predicted. And you were no better because even though you knew people would be interested, you would have never thought that it would be such a giant sensation.

- We have a lot of fires to put out. - you chuckled quietly and closed your eyes again. - I'll call Laura when we'll land and hash out the details, but if we don't want to wait till next week, we should be ready to do this on Wednesday. - you put your hand over his heart just to feel it beat under your fingers.

- What about the guests she's supposed to have? - you could feel the vibrations of his voice under your hand even through the material of his shirt.

- Let me worry about that, Dashuria Ime, you already have enough on your plate. - you replied, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder and it was his time to laugh, unintentionally grabbing the attention of the rest of the plane, but seeing you two cozied up and clearly talking about something, they didn't interrupt. Although you suspected that they would start listening closer to what you were saying, and they were in for a treat. - I was also thinking about our conversation from Friday... - you started quietly, and you could feel him perk up under you.

- And...? - he asked after your intentional pause.

- And considering the race schedule and the fact that most drivers will stay in the UK, I'd like to start the company and recordings as soon as possible... - his shoulders slumped just a tiny bit, but the smile on your face didn't go away. You knew he was expecting to hear something else, so you stalled on purpose just to tease him. - And to start the recordings, I'm gonna need a studio. And to have a studio...? - you left the end of the sentence hanging in the air and Toto laughed out loud again.

- You will need to move out...? - he finished for you, even though he didn't have to, and you could almost hear the others getting quieter, sensing something interesting, almost like piranhas. Although they were significantly less bloodthirsty.

- I will need to move out. - you confirmed, and the others were no longer pretending to talk, now openly listening to your conversation, and you didn't even have to open your eyes to know that.

- So I'm guessing that... How did you say it...? "I'm not just gonna move all my stuff in one day"... - he imitated your accent surprisingly well, and you couldn't hold the laughter. - ...was a lie? -

- Wait, are you guys moving in together? - Lewis was the first one to jump on the topic and the excitement in his voice was very clear.

- It looks like it... - you finally opened your eyes again and rested them on Lewis’s bright smile.

- Congratulations! - he immediately wanted to get up to get closer to the both of you, and ask more questions, but this was the moment when turbulences hit, and just as he was standing up, he fell back into his chair, and the whole plane's attention was on him. Partially to make sure that he was ok, but mostly because he made a funny sound when he fell over, and now everyone was either openly laughing or trying to hide the giggle. - Hey! Not my fault! Anyways, what do you guys want as a housewarming gift?

- Some damn peace and quiet would be nice... - Toto mumbled loud enough that everyone could hear him, still a little bit hung up on the whole media hurricane.

- We'll worry about that on the ground. Let's just have a few more moments without that, hmmm? - your voice was soft, and he couldn't help but agree; there was nothing either of you could do right now, and your hand gently placed over his heart made him take a deep breath and then let it out, which you instantly recognized as him banishing the thought from his head. - And, Lewis, we don't need anything, but the thought is appreciated, thank you. - you smiled at the driver, and he just nodded in response, but you had a sneaky suspicion that one day there will be a package waiting for you on the doorstep.

- By the way, we were talking with Valtteri about something... - he started, and you looked at the Fin, not even trying to hide the curiosity. - ...how we, as drivers, could help you guys with the media. And I had a rather radical idea, so I wanted to run it by you before implementing it. - you nodded your head, urging him to continue. - Because as you said, there is no way you'll be left alone for a while, and there is a high chance that we will be asked about the two of you as well. So, I thought that we could just... Thank them for the interview, end it, and walk away without saying anything more. - he explained, and you couldn't help but wonder when exactly they found the time to discuss it between the party, sleep, and all the hecticness of the morning.

- This way it'll send a clear message that we're sticking together as a family. - Valtteri added and you took a moment to contemplate their words. You looked up at Toto, trying to gauge what he thought about it, and he didn't have to say a word for you to know how he felt.

- As much as I love the idea, I think it should be run first by your PR team. There might be a clause somewhere that you're obligated to do a certain amount of media time, during race week. - you started carefully. Now, that you realized what a clusterfuck this whole situation was, you thought about everything in a much more professional and calculated way. - Plus, I wouldn't want you to face additional heat because of us.

- Neither of us would. - Toto echoed, and you could hear a smile in his voice.

- I don't think we... care about that...? - Lewis looked at Valtteri with a question in his eyes as if he wasn't sure.

- No. - Fin added with a smile - And we want to take the stand. - it wasn't rare to see them agreeing on something, but it still felt nice - knowing that they had your back even though they found out just a couple of days ago.

- Yeah, because the longer it goes, the longer all of us will have to deal with it. And it's just not right... - you couldn't help but sigh at his words, because he was 100% right. - But of course, as you said, we will run it by PR first.

- Thank you, guys... And I really appreciate it. It means a lot. - you gave them both a gentle smile. - And we will do an official interview, so hopefully, it will satisfy the public at least a little.

- Oh, you're doing one? When? - Lewis was much more interested in that than Valtteri, who went back to reading his book.

- We're still a little bit fuzzy on the details, but if it goes our way - Wednesday. - you answered, but before Lewis managed to ask more questions about it, the pilot said over the intercom that you'll be landing soon, and everyone should take their seats and fasten their belts. Before you got up, you wanted to place a quick kiss on Toto's cheek, but he turned his head and intercepted your lips with a cheeky grin.

Eventually, you were back in your chair, and it wasn't long before you were steady on the ground. It was the first time you flew on the private jet, so you weren't exactly sure what was the customs procedure, however, you definitely weren't expecting an officer to board the plane and process you right then and there, but you were grateful for not having to deal with the crowds of the airport.

Before Toto even started the car, you gently touched his shoulder and mouthed silently "Your Kids" while you waited for Laura to answer. He smiled as a thank you and left the car to call his children and explain everything in more detail, while you went off at the speed of light as soon as your best friend picked up the phone, explaining your plan and overall situation, at the same time confirming that she will have exclusivity on the interview. You knew that appearing on Laura's show was coming with risks and exposing you and Toto to an even wider audience was one of them, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You quickly bounced the ideas for the placement, set, wardrobe, and everything else, and because you knew each other so well, something that usually took at least a few days and a bunch of emails, took you around 15 minutes.

Toto was still outside, talking with his children, so you also shot a message to the other potential interviewers, thanking them for being willing to take that opportunity and rescinding your offer. You also quickly realized there was not a chance in hell you would be able to handle everything by yourself during the next week, so you took two deep breaths and started compartmentalizing and finding possible opportunities to delegate.

First - you shot a message to Mellie, asking if she could talk, and almost instantly after you click "send", she was calling you back, which didn't even surprise you.

- Hey Mells, are you free this week? - you asked, without even exchanging pleasantries, because in the type of friendship you had, they were simply not needed.

- Do you really have to ask, hun? - her laugh sounded like delicate chimes. You could almost imagine her lounging next to her pool while a professional chef was somewhere in the background preparing breakfast.

- I know, I know, but I wouldn’t be myself if I didn't ask. - you chuckled. - So, I'm gonna need someone to oversee the renovation of my apartment into a recording studio, and since you are elbows deep in real estate and you know my taste pretty well... - you didn't even have to finish.

- Say no more! I was bored anyway. What's the timeline? - she asked with pure excitement in her voice. You knew she liked to help her friends and had both the means and the time to do so, but you still felt a little bit bad asking her for such a huge endeavor.

- If we'll pack and move everything tonight, you could start tomorrow. Do you think you'll be able to finish by the end of the week? - you asked.

- Honey, with the right equipment I can finish in less than two minutes. - she laughed and you couldn't help but chuckle. - But in all seriousness, if I'll be able to get the crew there tomorrow, everything should be ready on Friday. - it was much sooner than you expected, but you also knew she had her tricks.

- Even if I wanted to build a wall separating my current office upstairs from the downstairs? Because I would like to put the recording studio there. - you made sure.

- That won't be a problem. It will be enough time for the wall to dry, so you're good. I'm gonna prepare a few sketches before we'll meet in the afternoon, ok? - you could almost hear gears shifting in her head.

- Ok, but just to be quick. Guest bedroom into a quiet place to recharge, my bedroom into an office that can be quickly turned into a conference room. The kitchen and bathrooms stay as they are, but you can of course make changes, I'm leaving it up to you. And the salon should be an office space with 8 working stations. Oh, and that closet next to the terrace into an equipment closet. Just please don't treat the budget as a light suggestion... - you quickly explained. Fortunately, Mellie was at your place enough times to know the layout pretty well.

- The wardrobe on the left to the entry stays as a wardrobe, I assume. And you want to leave two full bathrooms with no one living there? - she asked, already making mental notes.

- Yeah, it stays, and the bathrooms... I mean, I'm not sure about the smaller one, but overall, I plan on having 11 or 12 people hired, so at least two toilets would be nice. I mean, some of them could definitely work remotely on a daily basis, but one bathroom definitely won't be enough. - you said after taking a few seconds to think.

- I can renovate the bigger one, get rid of the bathtub, add a wall or two, and fit two stalls there. And leave the one with the shower as it is. - she offered.

- That actually... sounds amazing. Thank you, Mellie. - you were grateful for the suggestion because you haven't even considered doing something like that.

- You got it. Anything else you have in mind? - she inquired, and you went through your mental list.

- No, not really. I trust you. - you eventually replied.

- Ok, then I'm hanging up and scheduling the crew for tomorrow at noon. Love you, Boo. - she made a kissing sound over the phone, and you laughed.

- Thanks again, Mells. - she was the one who hung up, and you took another deep breath, deciding what to prioritize next, but just as you were about to make another call, you saw a message from Laura, sent from her business email, which meant it was an official BBC business. The message included a very lenient but still long contract, and you didn't have the time to go through every point, but just as you were about to ask Toto if you could steal Mark again, you got a private message from Laura.

"I've fought for it, it's good, but you can still run it by your lawyer. Both of you can sign it before the photo shoot."

And a few seconds later you got another email from her, this time containing the exact schedule for Wednesday, and extensive details about the photoshoot that - if you agreed - would take place in about two hours. Laura also compiled a file with the names of the photographer, stylist, make-up artist, and hair stylist, their previous works, and a few proposals of what they had in mind for you and Toto. Sometimes you forgot how quickly your best friend could work, and how detail-oriented she was, for which right now, you were extremely grateful. You could see that she definitely included herself in every part of the process, judging by what options were prepared for you.

Just as you were about to look closer at the proposed wardrobe, Toto came back to the car and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

- Everything went ok...? - you asked, still scrolling through the file. Usually, he had your full attention, but right now, there was no time.

- Yes. As it turns out, you are Rosie's favorite reporter on the grid, so you helped me score some points back, because she - indeed - found out from one of her friends. But they both can't wait to meet you in person. - he gave you a warm smile when you quickly glanced up from your phone. - And how are things on the battlefront? - he asked as he started the car.

- Hectic. The interview will be live on Wednesday at 21:00, but we will have to be there at 19:00. I already have the contracts, and Laura assured me that they're good, and I trust her, but we can still run them by a lawyer. - you looked at Toto with a question in your eyes.

- Forward them to Mark and add P1 before the title. That way he will look at them immediately. - he smiled, and you quickly did what he asked, while you were slowly rolling out of the parking lot.

- BBC also wants to do a quick photoshoot for promotional materials, because right now they have nothing to run an announcement with. - you added, sparing him all the specific details. - In the main studio at 11 if we agree of course.

- Wow, you are really quick, Schatzi. - he chuckled. - And the sooner we get it over with, the better.

- That was actually Laura. But we have about an hour to freshen up in my apartment before we go. - You quickly replied to the second email that the photo shoot is a go.

- A lot can be done in one hour... - he said in a teasing voice, but he immediately realized, that you had other plans, so he dropped the topic. What was happening right now, was your domain, and he intended to put his full trust in you. - Is there any way I could help? - he asked sincerely.

- Actually... Could I borrow Mark for a few days? I will need help with registering a new company, trademarks, and the first few contracts. Just until I find my own lawyer who I could trust. - you asked, with your eyes still glued to your phone. - And do you want to choose your clothes and hairstyle for the interview?

- Of course, you can. I have him on retainer, and I never used his full hours. And – just an idea - you can stay with his company, I'm sure he will find someone who will suit your future needs. But for now, I will let him know that he should expect a bigger workload from you. - you were extremely grateful for that because everything was happening so fast. You landed in England not even an hour ago, and you already had your next few days fully packed. - You have a much better sense of fashion than me, Schatzi, so I’m leaving it up to you... - he answered the second question, and gently placed his hand on your thigh, seeking the physical touch that brought both of you comfort. You quickly chose the hair, make-up, and clothes for the photo shoot, sent it in the reply to Laura's email, and took another deep breath, holding it for a few seconds in your lungs. So many things were happening at the same time, and you had to keep yourself in check because if you didn't, you would be crushed under the weight of all the decisions. And after analyzing everything, you came to the obvious conclusion - you needed more help if you wanted everything to be done on time, but that had to wait a moment because you just arrived at your apartment.

Toto took both his travel bag and your suitcase from the car and carried them into the building, while you wrapped your hand around his waist and hid under the pleasant weight of his arm, where - at least for a moment - the outside world couldn't reach you.

You didn't have to tell him where anything was, because by now he was here enough times to get familiar with not only the layout, but also with where you kept the extra bag of flour in the kitchen, or in which drawer you kept your fresh linen.

- I'm going to take a shower and make breakfast... You do you. - he stated, anticipating that you will be much busier during that hour than he will be. He was right, of course, and you were extremely grateful that he was willing to help.

- Thank you... - you gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before he brought your bags to the bedroom. While he was under the shower, you started scrolling through your contact list, searching for potential future employees. You needed trusted people, people who you worked with in the past and you knew from experience that you worked well together. So, when you spotted a familiar name almost on the top of your list, you immediately dialed her.

- Hey Lynn. It's Y/n Y/ln. - you introduced yourself because you weren't sure if she still had your number. - You were interning under me around a year ago when I was interviewing David Coulthard and you helped me with some research.

- Yes, of course, I remember. It's good to hear from you. - a soft, soothing voice replied, and you could almost hear the smile in it.

- I'm calling to offer you a job... - you started bluntly because you didn't have time to dance around the topic. - For one month as my assistant, and after that - as a full-time researcher, mostly into things related to F1. - you took a quick breath - I'm not gonna lie, the first month would be brutal, but I promise not to bother you outside of working hours. Starting pay is 3k, but it will be changed as your title will change, to reflect your new position. Insurance, private medical care with dental, and all that legal shabang will, of course, be covered. For the first month, I would need you with me in London, but after that - the job can be performed remotely, and the equipment will be provided. - you quickly hashed out the details. You didn't have everything mentioned lined up yet, but you thought about it a lot yesterday, and you knew you wanted to be a good employer, and from experience, you also knew what most people needed from a job to stay happy and loyal, and that's what you were aiming for.

- What's the catch? - she asked in that smooth tone.

- You would have to start tomorrow. And like I've said - the first month will be brutal. - you replied, slowly suspecting which way she was leaning, but you still gave her a few more moments to analyze the pros and cons.

- Since your departure from the Network was rather public, I assume it would be for some other project? - she quickly deduced.

- Yes. I'm starting my own company, and I'm piecing together a crew for it. It will focus on long and extensive interviews. First with current drivers, and if it will catch some winder under its wings - hopefully we will expand. - you replied.

- Independently or for a streaming service? - she dug a little bit deeper, and you couldn't help but admire just how quickly she was able to connect the dots.

- Fully independent.

- I'm in. - she replied as soon as you finished saying the last word.

- That's awesome! Thank you. I will send you the contract either today evening or tomorrow morning. And if I'll know that I won't be able to send it to you today, I will let you know so you won't be pointlessly waiting for it. But for now - do you have any more questions? - your heart honestly felt lighter than just an hour ago.

- What time do I start tomorrow? And where do we meet? - you couldn't help but laugh with relief.

- 9 AM. But you can start from your own apartment. I'm gonna need you to compile a list of external HR companies that also handle accounting, with the best independent reviews, not that bullshit point system from the most popular websites. I want someone legit who won't take bullshit. And since I already know you're good at what you do, the top 3 would be enough. And if you will have enough time after that - I will also need a company that offers both web and graphic design services, with a focus on quality and time; budget right now doesn't matter. - you explained and just as you finished, you felt your phone vibrating with yet another notification.

- HR. Web and Graphic Design. - she repeated.

- I know you're already confirmed, but I'm gonna ask once more. Are you sure you want this job? - you asked because yet again - you got this feeling that everything was happening with the speed of light.

- I'm sure. To be honest, I've somehow landed in a stereotypical corpo-job, so I'm taking your offer as a sign to stop slaving away. - she laughed, and you joined her. - Plus, I know you keep your promises, and you wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t serious.

- And you won't have any problems with resigning on the spot? - you made sure.

- Not with the contract I have with them. - she soothed your worries.

- Ok then. I'll speak to you tomorrow. Oh, and send me your personal details, including the current address for the contract and the courier. I'll try to get a new phone and computer to you by tomorrow, and if you have any preferences for your set-up, please include that in your message. I honestly want you to be as satisfied with everything as possible.

- Do I have a set budget? - she asked quickly before you managed to hang up, and you had to think about it for a moment.

- Don't make me regret it, but... no. Just be sensible and don't order something with i9. - you both laughed again. - Thank you, Lynn.

- You got it, boss. - she laughed and ended the call. You quickly checked the notification that came during your conversation. It was an email from Mark giving you a green light to sign the contract with BBC and asking how you managed to negotiate such terms. You quickly replied and asked if it would be possible to talk over the phone. And yet again today - he was calling you almost as soon as you send the message.

- Hi Mark, I hope I'm not interrupting you too much.

- Hey Y/n. Not at all, I cleared my whole week for you, per Toto's request. - you made a mental note to thank your wonderful partner for helping you so much. - From what I understood, you will need help with registering your company and you would also like to find our own lawyer, is that correct? - he was godsent. And someone definitely was watching over you, because considering how hectic everything was, it was impressive that - at least for now - everything went so smoothly.

- That's right. I will also need help with drafting t first few employee contracts. - you added, as you got up from the couch and started walking around the apartment to focus better on the conversation.

- That's understandable. I assume Ltd? - he inquired.

- Yes. How long does it usually take?

- I will send you a form to fill out and a list of documents you will need to provide. If you'll be able to send it back to me before noon, the company will be registered by the end of today. - his voice was confident.

- You're joking... - you couldn't believe it.

- I assure you, I am not. It usually takes 3 to 5 hours to fully register and process a new Ltd. - he replied, and you were stunned because suddenly everything started to feel a little bit too real. You took one deep breath to ground yourself and closed your eyes.

- Ok then. - you finally replied after a moment of silence.

- Would you mind if I asked you something?

- Ask away. - you chuckled and resumed your walk around the apartment, just as Toto was leaving the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hips, and you couldn't help but smile.

- Do you already have someone in mind for your permanent HR position? - you stopped again because you weren't expecting that question.

- I have someone looking into external companies to hire from. Why...?

- If you wouldn't mind some good old nepotism, I would like to send you a CV of my daughter. She specializes in employment law and just got her undergrad degree in business management. She has 2 years of experience in a similar position in a tech startup. I can also include her references. - he stopped for a moment, and you honestly needed a minute to process what you heard. - Just a CV. And if you'll like what you see, you could set up a proper interview. I'm not trying to force anything here. - you took a moment to think as you resumed your walk around the apartment at a little bit faster pace.

- Can you send me her CV now? - you requested, because honestly - you wanted to ride that wave of green lights and squeeze as much good luck from today as you could.

- I'm asking her to send it to your email right now. You should have it in a few minutes. - you could hear him smiling on the other side of the line.

- Ok, I will get back to her before 10:30. - everything was going so smoothly, that you were honestly starting to get suspicious, because life was never that easy, and some part of your mind was waiting for the other shoe to drop. After that, you quickly went through the possible private medical packages, sports cards, and the terms of employment you would like to offer your employees, which included a small budget every month for self-improvement, which could be spent either on learning new skills or improving your mental health by relaxing. You also went through the terms of NDAs, and something that popped into your head when Lynn asked you about the equipment - a payment plan to buy it out from the company by deducting it in installments from the pension. By the time you ended the call, it was almost 10, and Toto finished making simple 3 ingredient crepes, which were his specialty, but you weren't done just yet.

You opened an email from Mark's daughter that included a letter of recommendation as well as her CV, and you recognized one of the companies she was working in around 3 years ago because one of Sammy's sisters worked there. So, you quickly called your friend.

- Hey Brocksby... Can you send me Lizzie's number? I have a quick question.

- I mean... I could... but I'm at home and we're eating breakfast, so... you know... I can just pass the phone to her. - you laughed.

- Thanks, Love... You have my gratitude. – you waited a moment until you heard a familiar voice. - Hi Lizzie, sorry to bother you with such a random question so early, but by any chance, do you know Charlotte Zane?

- Hey Y/n! Not a problem at all... And of course, I know One-Fear-Charlie. - she laughed.

- One-Fear-Charlie? - you inquired with a slight smile.

- Well, yeah. Do you know that meme in a form of a comic panel? The one with a guy in a t-shirt that says, "No Fear" and then it changes to "One Fear"? - she asked, and this time you laughed.

- Yeah, I know it.

- So, she was that one fear. - Lizzie explained further

- Was she that bad? - you already started working on a gentle way to reject her CV, but your friend’s sister continued.

- Not bad, just... Strict, I guess? I mean - she knew how to have fun, but when it came to work - everything had to be absolutely perfect and every scenario had to be included in writing, so when you got an email from her - you knew that something was missing from your work, and you basically fucked up. She wasn't a bitch about it though, and she was really patient with new people, but you know...

- She was really good at finding imperfections? - you offered before she found the right words.

- Yeah.

- Did you like working with her? And her as a person overall? - you asked, slowly erasing that speech to gently turn Charlotte down.

- I mean - like I've said - she wasn't a bitch, and always gave you the opportunity to correct your mistakes before someone higher got a chance to see them. She was strict but definitely fair... And personally...? We weren't super close, but she seemed ok. She mostly hung out with paralegals, not us in the bottom of the barrel, but she was always kind to us on breaks and stuff. She had a really dry sense of humor though... You know, cheesy dad jokes and wordplay. - she offered.

- Thank you so much, Lizzie. And sorry again for bothering you. Say goodbye to your brother from me.

- No problem. And take care, Y/n! - you quickly hung up and sighed.

- Eat. You have 20 minutes to take a shower and eat something before we have to leave. - Toto quickly intercepted your phone before you got the chance to do anything else with it and pushed a plate with crepes with plum jam under your nose.

- I need to reply to an email... - you groaned, but despite your words, you started eating.

- Dictate then. Just don't choke... - he smiled, and you chuckled as he placed a small kiss on the top of your head.

- In reply to Charlotte Zane - Could we meet today at 2 PM in Saint Luke's Garden? - you swallowed a bite as Toto typed on your phone. - My signature... - another bite. - …and in PS "Not an official interview, just a walk, so dress in whatever you feel comfortable in. Preferably no business attire. - you continued with a piece of a crepe in your mouth. - Add a smiley face and hit send. - he did as you asked.

- You have a message from Mellie asking if she should include computers in the budget. - you nodded in reply, and Toto passed that in a message form. - And another one from Laura, telling you not to wash your hair or wear any make-up because everything will be done on set. - you were almost inhaling your breakfast, so instead of speaking you just showed him a thumb up, and she sent said emoji in reply. You looked at the clock, took the rest of the crepe in your hand, and almost ran to the bathroom because you had less than 15 minutes.

After the shower, you quickly chose fresh clothes, but before you got dressed, you quickly started applying lotion to your body.

- Hey, could you open the last email from Mark, and download the attachment? - you yelled loud enough for Toto to hear you in the kitchen, or wherever he was. Instead of yelling back, he came into the bedroom and leaned on the doorframe. He was watching you as you finished moisturizing your skin, and you gave him a small smile when you caught him. - The attachment. What information is needed? - you asked, while you put on your underwear, but he didn't reply immediately, instead letting his gaze linger. Only when you looked at him for the second time, he unlocked your phone and started reading the form. Fortunately, most of the information you could provide from memory, or you could find it on your phone, so at least you didn't have to dig through your apartment in search of any documents, and you could fill out that form in the car.

You were ready exactly four minutes before 10:30, but before you left the apartment in a hurry, Toto gently grabbed you by the arms and stopped you from moving anywhere for a moment, and your gaze almost instinctively found his eyes.

- Breathe. Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Close your eyes... And for one minute just... breathe. - he said. You wanted to protest, because you had to leave, but his grip on your arms told you that it would be futile, so you did as he asked. With every slow breath, your racing mind started to slowly calm down. All the things that you had to do today were still there, but they were slowly stopping to fight for the place in front of the line.

After the full minute, Toto released your arms, but instead of running out of the apartment, you wrapped your arms around him, rested your face against his chest, and stayed like that for one moment longer.

It was easy to get lost when the pace of the day was so rapid, but you were fortunate to have someone who understood that and was able to help you find yourself again.

- Thank you... - you mumbled against his shirt, and he just pressed a soft kiss to your temple in reply. It was his time to be your rock, just as you were his yesterday.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Toto Wolff fanfiction #Toto Wolff x reader #🖤#📏#No Longer a Secret by G.

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f1nalboys · 3 years ago

Text

Costume ; Mickey Altieri

first mickey full length fic i love he sm he’s actually deranged guys!!!! pls make sure to read warnings for this one!

Mickey Altieri x Fem!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3837

WARNINGS: nsfw, dub-con (didn’t write it as such but just in case), post scream 1 and pre scream 2 events, ghostface mickey, knife play, blood play, roleplay, costumes, spitting, slapping, spanking, degradation, misogyny and slut shaming, creampie, doggy style, throat fucking, established relationship, home invasion roleplay, murderer/victim roleplay, predator/prey dynamics, mickey has the ghostface costume on for a little bit, glove kink?, oral (amab and afab receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, underwear as a gag, reader gets cut, chase scene, mickey gets off on crying, mickey is a bad bf and a bad person, manipulation, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, not proofread

“You want to do what?” You were in bed with Mickey, head on his bare chest, curled into his side after a long day and you genuinely thought you had misheard him. He glances down at you and gives you a half smile, kissing your temple.

“I said I want to wear a costume next time we fuck.” He says it so simply, as though he were talking about the weather, that you can’t help but laugh a little. He frowns. “Saying no is much nicer than laughing, babe.”

Shaking your head, you sit up on your elbow staring at him. “Sorry, I was just laughing at the way you said it. What kind of costume? Like, do you want to do roleplay or something?” You were interested in the idea; in your short time dating Mickey, you’ve become privy to a lot more kinks than you were expecting him to have. Blood and knives were at the forefront of your sex life nowadays, but he hadn’t introduced anything knew in a few months.

“Yeah, kind of. Wanna hear all the dirty details now or later?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. It was late, almost two am at this point, and the two of you had a long day tomorrow. “It won’t take long, baby. Plus, it’ll get you all amped up for when we do it.”

“Who says I’m gonna agree to it?”

“You’re a pervert, of course you’re gonna agree to it.” You snort, settling back into bed, laying your head back on his chest. You can hear his heart beating. “Alright. I was thinking I’d wear…” He grabs his phone from beside him, the light illuminating his sharp features, before turning it towards you. It was a black costume that reminded you of the Grim Reaper, the only difference being the mask. “This.”

You can feel his heartbeat speed up as he puts his phone back. “Isn’t that the Ghostface costume? From Woodsboro?” You whisper, choosing to keep your head down away from his gaze which you can feel burning a hole in your head. He hums, answering your question, and you take in a deep breath. “Oh. How come you chose that one?”

“Because it’s scary. And besides,” His hand, which was wrapping around your shoulder, moves to lay on the back of your neck, squeezing it slightly. Your heart skips a beat and he laughs under his breath. “It seems you kind of like it. Wanna hear the rest of the plan?”

Without waiting for an answer he begins, his voice low and level, his grip on your neck never letting up. “I’d wear it and wait in your apartment for you to come home. You’d come in, no idea I was there, and when you were comfortable, completely oblivious, I’d jump out. Chase you around with a knife, fuck you while you struggle, and you’d like it. Wouldn’t you?”

When Mickey asked a question, he expected an answer. “I don’t know, Mick… doesn’t that seem messed up? I mean, someone killed people wearing that.”

“So?” You sit up at this, staring at him with disgust settling in your stomach. You knew Mickey was morbid, both from his interest in the gory horror films and his interest in true crime, but you had never heard him be so… disinterested. “Oh come on, babe, don’t look at me like that! It’s awful people died, but that was a year ago, the assholes who did it are dead. Why should we let them ruin the costume?”

He sits up too, running a hand through his hair with a huff. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head, your mind swimming. “Shit, Mickey! It’s fucked up, that’s why! We fucking go to school with Sidney and Randy, we’re friends with them, and you wanna parade around in the costume the people who tormented them wore?”

“If we stopped using or liking things serial killers liked, we wouldn’t have shit. I mean, Manson thought the fuckin’ Beatles were talking to him, does that mean we shouldn’t listen to ‘Hey Jude?’” He puts a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing across it in an attempt to soothe your anger. He had a point, you suppose, a weak one but a point nonetheless. “I won’t wear that costume if it bothers you that badly, alright?”

You sigh, exhausted. “Fine. We can do it but not that costume, Mickey, seriously.”

“Yes ma’am.” He wraps his arms around you again, holding you tight, as the two of you lay back down. Your heart is beating in tangent with him and he rests his chin on the top of your head. “Promise.”

--------------------

A few weeks later is when Mickey decides it’s time. You were gone for the day, supposed to come back to his place and crash, which was a plus, since people tended to be out on the weekend, leaving the dorm practically deserted. You texted him to let him know you were close, about five minutes out, and he gets ready.

Donning the costume and knife, he crawls into the coat closet by the front door, leaving it cracked just enough to see when you open the door. His phone, silenced, buzzes as you text him to let him know you’re home. The apartment was dark when you got inside, unusual for a Friday night. Mickey tended to be home on Friday in preparation to party all fucking day on Saturday, so you were immediately on edge, especially since he hadn’t texted you back.

“Mickey? You home?” You call out, locking the door behind you and dropping your things off at the door. No answer. You flip the light switch on and sigh, trying to ignore the pit of anxiety growing in your stomach. The memory of your conversation with him plays in the back of your mind as you head into the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of water. Could tonight be the night he wanted to try this?

No, probably not. He’d have given you some kind of warning, you thought to yourself, taking a few sips of your drink before turning around. In front of you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, was Ghostface. The glass slips from your fingers, shattering onto the floor, and yet the masked figure doesn’t move.

“M-Mickey?” You ask, voice wavering. The figure shakes their head and you glance down to their hand and feel a wave of nausea hit you; a knife. They were holding a knife and they weren’t Mickey. “Mickey if that's you you better tell me right fucking now or I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

You know where the knives are; two drawers to your left. You’d be able to get to it before whoever it was got to you, but after that, who knows what could happen. The only time you’ve handled a knife was during sex with Mickey when he asked you to cut into him, carve your name onto his thigh like he had done to you. It’s a far cry from trying to defend yourself from a killer.

“You can scream all you want, sweetheart,” The person says and you internally sigh; it was Mickey. It had to be, only he called you that stupid pet name. But why the fuck was he wearing this costume? “No one’s around to hear you.” Before you can register what’s happening he lunges forwards, grabbing ahold of your arm and yanking you forwards.

He slices at your arm and you yelp, watching as blood pours from the wound. Mickey goes to cut you again but you dodge it, shoving him as hard as you can before making a break for the front door. You nearly trip as a shard of glass jams into the bottom of your foot, hobbling towards the front door as fast as you can.

When you reach it, your hands are shaking and you struggle to undo the locks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why’d you have to lock every single one of them? “Gotcha,” Mickey says, grabbing ahold of your hair and yanking you backwards. You fall back, hitting the hardwood floor, your elbow and hip getting a sharp pain through them.

He drags you across the floor, cursing as you attempt to get him to let go of your hair. You can feel the roots being pulled from your head and you’re crying, begging him to let you go. “Mickey, stop it! Stop, this isn’t fucking funny anymore,” You yell before he’s letting go of your hair and straddling you. The knife is pressed to your throat and your struggles cease immediately as the cold metal digs into your flesh.

“Say the word and I’m done,” He mutters into your ear, leaning down, the mask brushing across your cheek. He’s referring to the safe word and he waits for it. It doesn’t come. Under the mask he’s grinning, cheeks red from exertion and hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. “Of course not. A filthy whore like you wouldn’t want to stop, isn’t that right.”

“Mickey-’

“Shh.” The knife digs into your skin a little harder and you can feel the flesh break. You can almost see Mickey’s wicked grin when you let out a soft whimper at the feeling. “You can fight if you want. Makes it more fun for me,”

“Wait! Wait, hang on!” You say and Mickey does so, surprisingly. You’d half expected him to continue despite your protests. “Please just take the mask off, Mick. I can’t… I can’t look at it.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, and you wonder if you had really said it out loud. “Please.” It’s quiet, barely audible, but it works. Mickey rips the mask off, tossing it to the side, before he’s back to the game.

He replaces the knife with his gloved hand, fingers squeezing the sides of your throat, and you can already feel the lack of oxygen. Tears were dried on your cheeks, hiccupping breaths cut off. “Please,” He mocks, other hand dragging the knife down your clothed chest lightly. “Fucking pathetic, y’know that? Here you are, getting off on this depraved fucking game, but a costume is too much.”

He laughs at his own comment and you feel the heat begin to pool between your legs. You hated this part, where he made fun of you, made you feel awful, as if he weren’t enjoying it just as much. It made you feel dirty, disgusting. And maybe you were. Mickey lets go of your throat and you suck in a breath, lungs burning from the oxygen. You watch as he licks a stripe up his hand, a thing layer of blood coating his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste good, y’know that? Always forget how sweet you taste till I do this.” He grabs your face roughly and you can feel the blood spreading across your face. His grip tightens and you let out a whine, squeezing your eyes shut. It hurt and he was glad it did. “Almost as sweet as that cunt of yours. Want me to touch you? You want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” You get out, eyes opening, trying to ignore the disgust that goes through you. It couldn’t be bad if it felt this good, could it? Letting go of your face, Mickey lifts his costume up and you attempt to move your hands out from under his legs. He had them pinned to your side, an attempt to stop you from struggling, and you just want to touch him.

He slaps you, hard, your face stinging. Tears burn at your eyes again and he repeats it two more times. Your cheek hurts so bad now and when he goes to do it again you flinch hard. “Don’t fucking move. I’m doing this for me, you understand? I don’t give a fuck if you feel good or not. Now,” He pulls his costume back up and tosses the knife to the side, just out of your reach, and unbuttons his jeans. “Open your whore mouth.”

Mickey pulls his cock out, having forgone underwear, and sits up. The weight he had put on your stomach eases up and you take in a deep, much needed breath, before he’s shoving it down your throat. He lets out a loud moan as he goes further into your throat, one hand holding his costume up and the other pressing down on your throat.

He sets a fast and brutal pace, reveling in the feeling of his cock moving in and out of your throat. There’s not much you can do besides focus on not throwing up, gagging as he shoves his cock further down your throat with each thrust. “Fuuuuck, your mouth feels so good,” He grunts, looking down and grinning. You had tears pouring from your eyes, spit and snot covering the bottom half of your face. “And the fucking noises you make, bet you’re, shit! Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked just from having my dick down your throat.”

He pulls out of your mouth, spitting on you as you cough, and another wave of shame goes through you at that. When Mickey got like this it was like he was a different person, treating you like you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck. Your head is swimming, vision slightly blurred, and you don’t register as he throws the costume off of himself.

“Suck.” He says, shoving three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion, recovering quickly, before doing your best to coat his fingers with spit. You can taste the blood on them. “Good little slut. Want me to use these on you, don’t you?” You nod quickly, swirling your tongue around his digits sloppily. Drool was spilling from your mouth still and you want to beg him to fuck you already but the throbbing in your cheek stops you.

You try your best to keep still as he gets off of you, yanking at your pants quickly. When they’re at your ankle he gives you a grin, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you around until you are on your stomach. The air is cold on your bar legs and you’re painfully aware of how bad you were aching, how wet you were. It didn’t go past Mickey, either, if his cruel laugh was any indication.

“Fucking soaked,” He grunts and you hear the clink of the knife as he picks it up from the floor. He drags it flat against your ass, following the curve of it down your thigh. You shudder. “You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you? Pathetic, fucking disgusting. What if someone really broke in here, tried to kill you? You’d probably sink to your knees to get their cock in your mouth.”

Mickey slips the knife under your underwear and cuts it, ripping the fabric off of your other leg. “Be honest, you’d use that cunt of yours to get out alive and you’d like it, wouldn't you?

“Yes! Yes, I would, Mickey, please. Please fuck me already I need you,” You beg, near to tears, and he laughs, hand coming and holding your head down onto the floor. He bundles the cut underwear up, holding it over your mouth, and you know what he’s asking of you. Your mouth opens and he shoves them inside, the taste of your arousal filling your mouth.

“Fucking whore needs her holes filled, doesn’t she?” You nod quickly, wiggling your hips, and he slices the back of your thigh with the knife. You howl in pain, your arms coming to rest by your head in a desperate attempt to keep them from moving. Mickey hushes you as he wipes the blood across your thighs, tracing over the scarred over name on your hip. “I own you. I can do whatever I want to you and you’d let it happen because I’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

He shoves two fingers inside your soaked cunt without warning and you groan at the stretch, the burn, and it only amplifies as he sets a quick pace. He was hitting the spot inside you that had you feeling lightheaded and you can’t help but move your hips back slightly to meet him in the middle. Mickey lets it happen, enjoying how pathetic you looked, face down on the floor covered in blood, spit, and tears and loving it.

You were close, so fucking close, squeezing around his fingers and you cry out when he pulls his fingers from your cunt. Your protests are muffled by your underwear but you let Mickey maneuver you. He positions you so you were face down ass up and he pushes your legs apart, his mouth instantly attaching to your cunt.

Mickey loved eating you out. He loved the noises you made, the way you would grind back against him, the way you tasted. He especially loved the times he got you to squirt and made it a mission to make it happen again and again, covering his face and cock with it. He was addicted to it, to you, and you knew it.

These were the times when you could have some power back over him. No matter how dominant he’d be, when he got his mouth on your pussy he was putty in your hands, letting you ride his face for as long as you’d like, letting you call him all sorts of names.

Your moans were muffled and that wasn’t good enough for Mickey. “Take them out of your mouth,” He says, pulling away from you for a few seconds before lapping at your slit again. “Need to hear how desperate you are to cum on my face, sweetheart.” You oblige immediately, yanking the fabric out of your mouth and letting out a loud moan, bucking your hips back against his warm mouth.

“Oh my fucking god, Mickey, fuck! Please, your fucking tongue, just like that. Just like that baby, m’so close, wanna cum soooo badly,” You whine and he hums against you, his hands kneading your ass. He knew everything about you. From the way your cunt would squeeze around his tongue and fingers, how your whole body seemed to shake, how your breathing sped up; he knew when you were about to cum.

By the grace of God he lets you finish, sucking your clit into his mouth as you do so. He doesn’t let up until you’re a quivering mess, jolting with each flick of his tongue. “Fuck you taste so good,” He says, grabbing your hair and yanking you up. The kiss is rough and sloppy, tongues swirling together and interrupted by panting. “M’gonna fuck you right here and you’re gonna love it. Gonna cum in you, fill you to the fuckin’ brim.”

He’s talking to you as if you’re not really there, pulling his jeans down fully, and then he’s sliding inside you, his hips flush against yours. “Fuck! Fuck you’re so big,” You say; while Mickey knew everything about you, you knew everything about him. He loved the praise you gave him after he treated you like this, how you gave yourself to him entirely. He loved when you tried taking control, too, because he loved putting you in your place.

“Yeah? M’stretching your cunt, aren’t I?” His thrusts are bordering on painful, your back against his chest, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he felt inside you, the filth he was whispering into your ear. “So fucking tight. Gotta fuck you more, should be stretched. This fucking pussy, Christ. Fucking amazing.”

He pushes you down so you are back on the floor with your ass up and he’s hitting deeper inside you than you ever thought possible. “Oh fuck! I’m so close, Mickey, baby, oh god. Please don’t stop,”

“Not stopping till you’re fucking leaking.” He spanks you hard, shuddering, so close himself. His gloved hand wraps around your waist and begins to circle your clit quickly, needing to feel you cum before he does. “Come on, be a good slut and cum for me, alright? Unless you wanna be punished? Hm? Fucking cock hungry bitch wants me to cut into her?”

You cry out his name as you cum, legs shaking, and he keeps fucking you, abandoning your clit in favor of gripping your hips and slamming you further down onto his cock. When he cums he moans, head tilting back. He makes sure he’s fully inside you and you can feel him coating your insides.

He takes a few deep breaths before pulling out, watching as his cum drips from your pussy. You nearly collapse onto the floor when he lets go of your hips and he laughs. Tucking himself back into his pants he sits down next to you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, m’fine.” You say. You were exhausted. The adrenaline that started from the second you saw him in his costume was gone now and all you wanted to do was sleep. The costume. The thought has you forcing yourself to sit up, wincing at the cuts and bruises you now have to nurse. “You fucking asshole!

“Huh?” His eyebrows furrowed together, genuinely confused. You grab the mask and shove it at him, standing on shaky legs. “Oh, this. Baby, I’m sorry! I tried finding another costume, really, but I couldn’t! This was the only one they had!”

“Right, they only had your sick fucking costume in stock.” You spit, hissing as you yank the piece of glass out of your heel. It had been there for god knows how long, thankfully not too deep. You limp towards the bathroom, fuming.

He sighs, following after you and grabbing you by your shoulders to force you to face. Him. “I’m serious. I tried to find one that was similar but they were all sold out, swear. C’mon, you’re really gonna be pissed at me for this when I tried?”

Mickey pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple, and you melt into his touch. “Maybe I’m being overdramatic…” You say against his shoulder. He was thankful that you couldn’t see the big smile he had on his face. “Sorry, it just freaked me out, is all.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” Another thing he loved about you is how you always seemed to apologize to him. It made things much easier. “I should’ve told you, though. I’m sorry too, baby. C’mon, let me get you cleaned up.”

“Alright. Hey,” You say, pulling away from the hug and poking him lightly in the chest. “You better throw that thing out, alright? Sid and Randy would have a fucking heart attack if they saw it.”

He nods, turning you around and leading you to the bathroom, mind drifting. Fat fucking chance, sweetheart. He had plans for that costume, after all.

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 2 #scream 1997 #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x y/n #ghostface #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher fic #slasher headcanons #slasher oneshot #slasher imagines

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statticscribbles · 3 years ago

Text

Trust

Summary: Steve Harrington/Reader, A/B/O dynamics; Continuation of this flash challenge (link here)

Nancy; Robin and Eddie all told you that Steve Harrington was safe; it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them but more that you had an idea of how he acted. How much he reminded you of the only other Alpha you’d come in contact with was Billy Hargrove; but he was dead and couldn’t help you even if you wanted him to. You know all of them had said how much Steve has changed; how he’s not like Billy; not like how he was in the few years you’d passed him in the halls.

“Steve…” You grimace a little and he tilts his head looking at you. You tug the jacket closer around you. Steve Harrington is staring at you; face bright pink.

“You’re an Omega.” You nod shuffling little closer. You wonder if any of the others had actually said anything beyond the fact you might bump into him during the day.

“What do you need?” Steve asks and you shake your head. He should know; someone should have said something. You don’t think you can say the actual words; you’d been trying to squash down the crush you’d had on him; it’s why you’d gone to Billy in the first place; the exact opposite of Steve in every way.

“Y/N I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.” Steve says a little more forcefully than he needs to. You swallow and try to avoid the rush of warmth the tone of his voice gives you.

“I want.. uh need. I need you.” You mumble trying to avoid looking at his face.

“Come here then.” He hums a little and pulls you into his arms. You blink nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You’re a little confused when he doesn’t push you away like Billy would.

“Hey Y/N, can’t help you any if we don’t get somewhere a little more private than the school parking lot.” You whine a little embarrassed by how much you’d been trying to press yourself against him.

“But you’re an Alpha; people will talk.”

“Then let them talk; I just want to help you.” He offers and you shake your head pulling back, trying to free yourself from his grip, both of you know it’s half hearted.

“But I want.. I want you to be my Alpha.” You confess and keep your eyes on the ground missing Steve’s smirk; he pulls you back towards him, but steps to the side; nodding to his car.

“Well let’s go back to my place and we can talk a little more about what being my Omega means. Okay?”

“Oh, your Omega?”

“Mhm; you like the sound of that?” He laughs a little when you nod and watch him for his reaction.

He doesn’t say anything just clicks his seatbelt on and waits for you to do the same, before he pulls out of the parking spot, his hand resting over yours on your leg.

“Do you want anything.. To drink.” Steve offers before you can blurt out what your brain was going to say; that you wanted him.

“Uh, water is okay.”

“Alright; so since you seem pretty interested in being my omega; are you sure about that? I’m not going to do anything but the basics; helping you out with your heat; so you can think about it with a clear head; okay?”

“Such a gentleman..”

“What Alpha wouldn’t.. You’re the omega that Billy almost got right?” You just nod confused when Steve wraps his arms around you and kisses you slowly.

“I’m nothing like him; let me prove it?”

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #stranger things au #stranger things headcanon #stattic #written

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delugguk · 4 years ago

Note

for thirst night, could you write something about taekook x reader with lots of heavy petting and dirty talking 😩 i once had this dream where i was squished between them and i swear my life has not been the same ever since,,

Ah... my little nightmare/dynamic duo😩 here we go!

Tkoorny hours

pair: taekook x reader

genre: smut, drabble.

warning: dirty talk, oral sex, fingering and i think that's it.

note: Unedited !! and im so sorry for the name lmaoooodjd

"thought you wanted to stop huh?"

Jungkook who got you seating on his lap in this big ass sofa, guides your hips through his clothed crotch. you both were so horny but oh, wait! there was someone else in the room.

Long time crush;

Taehyung.

The three of you being already far, far away from a party, no alcohol in your system, just full horny feelings going through your bodies is what brought you guys to be in this hot situation.

"I should take a step closer" taehyung says more to himself.

You feel the way his hands roam through your body from behind while jungkook makes out with you holding your hips. His hands stops by your neck and you suddenly feel this warm breath close to you. He places sensual kisses, pulling your hair ever so slowly since you're kissing jungkook and oh boy, did that turned you on. You moaned sticking your butt out, and that makes the both of them laugh.

"Seems like someone is desperate huh?" jungkook says while gently biting his lips, slapping your ass.

"When we haven't even fucked her yet?" Taehyung says, hugging your whole body taking you away from jungkook. Seating on the other side of this big sofa he pulls you down to his lap, opening your legs to face jungkook instead of him.

"So sexy.." Jungkook whispers to himself.

Your back meets taehyung's chest. feeling how his hand slowly approachs your clothed clit...

You were wearing a skirt tonight making things easier for them and you couldn't be more happier with your choice of clothes.

"Fuck how are you this wet already mh?" Pointy finger caressing your clit he suddenly slaps your clothed pussy. You're trembling under him. That caused you to be so much more aroused. "so fucking needy, jungkook take a look at this." taking a glance at him jungkook goes closer to you kneeling down. Hands touching your thighs up and down..

"the way her underway sticks to it.. fuck. I can totally see it. Should I.. fuck. fucking eat you out? mh?" His lips leaves traces of wet sensual kisses.. with the way he does it you feel his warm breath between your thighs. You try hard not to close your legs with the way taehyung teases your clothed clit so you grab jungkook's hair. He looks up at you and the way his hooded eyes are gazing at you.. You felt embarrased for the way you let a moan leave your mouth just for that..

"Do you want my tongue or do you want me to fill you up baby?" Jungkook devisly smiles at you. The way he was teasing you right now..

"Don't make such question, we won't fuck her tiny greedy pussy just yet..." Taehyung says when he suddenly takes your underwear aside and slides a finger through your bare clit.

"fuck-" you moan and your hips automatically start moving on his fingers you wanted them inside of you so bad. Mostly when taehyung's left hand grabbed your breast and the way his lips traced wet kisses through your neck.

"So fucking desperate goddamnit".

..and with that, jungkook removed Taehyung's hand and starts eating you out. Jumping at the sudden feeling you are squirming above Taehyung's body and he starts toying your nipples. Your ass rubbing his clothed cock you could feel how big and hard he was. You were moaning like crazy.

"Agghh, Jungkook- fuck"

"Is he eating you out good baby?" Taehyung hums in your ear. His voice. So deep and deliciously sensual.

with the way jungkook was eating you out.. You swear you could cum just right there.

"mmgh, so, fucking, good." You moan and you can barely take it when he introduces two fingers. "fuck"

"Tell him how good you feel kitten, come on"

Jungkook's tongue was so quick and the way he moaned through your pussy lips drives you insane he sounds deliciously hot.

"Jungkook y-you're ssso fu-fucking- aggh!"

"Yeah baby?" There's his smirk. "Am I making you feel good mh? Youre so fucking delicious." Taking his fingers out, he licks his fingers covered with your arousal.

"So fucking sweet."

He suddenly gets up. Takes your pantys off and taehyung closes your legs and turns you around.

"I want to fucking destroy you." He then laughs, "no, matter of fact, I will destroy this fucking pussy" he taps your pussy and slaps your ass, another moan scales your lips.

"You meant, we." says jungkook at the back.

"Right. Two cocks fucking you deep and hard baby... Do you want that?" He kisses you biting your lip ever so slowly. Pulling your hair a little, "answer to me darling"

You swear you've never been this turned on like.. ever. "Y-Yes, please fuck me please"

"who do you want first?"

"I want you both"

"Fuck this shit hyung she's so needy. I want to fuck her ass so.bad. baby do you want that mh? I want to feel you so fucking bad. fuck. I bet she feels just right" jungkook blurbs out all of a sudden. cock out, pumping into it while he watch your ass sticking out from Taehyung's legs. No wonder why he said that.

Taehyung groans.

"We'll gonna fuck you so well honey," taehyung stops looking at you to face his partner in crime,"don't worry Jungkook, well take turns.." looking at your face back again, "you'll never forget our cocks stretching you out so good understood? You won't even want anybody else to ever fuck you like we'll do tonight baby l promise"

The moment he said that, you feel hornier than ever. Just when you thought you couldn't get any more wet, the moment jungkook lift you up from Taehyung's lap, the big mess you made on Taehyung's jeans...

Yeah. When you thought all of you couldn't get more needy and crazier for each other.. this was going to be a very looong long night for sure...

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animeomegas · 4 years ago

Note

Imagine that Sasuke is having problems with his 'future alpha', he doesn't understand some dating methods and ends up 'reluctantly' going to ask Itachi's alpha.He just blushed saying 'I can't believe I'm doing this but I need some advice'.Itachi's alpha comes home late looking happy and Itachi holding his dog asking where he's been.

Anon: I think Sasuke would only start liking Itachi's alpha after they help him stand up to a bigger, stronger, more trained betas and/or Alphas. Because I don't see him as someone who might ask for help from anyone, and his brother's alpha somehow saw them bully him and push him around, so they tell him how to one up those annoying people. (Maybe buy him ice cream or something after). This young Sasuke vs Itachi's alpha thing should be a show, because I'd sell everything I own to watch it.

(Anon 1: This is a big brain idea, anon, thank you for your service 🤭 I changed it a little, how that's okay!)

(Anon 2: I think you're absolutely right that Itachi's alpha does something big for Sasuke when he's at a low point, and it ends up changing their relationship for the better in a lot of ways. I decided not to go with bullying though, because Sasuke seemed to fit this scenario moreso. Also, ahhh, I'm so happy you're liking this mini series!!!!! I'm having so much fun writing it and it fills me with joy that other people are enjoying it just as much!!!)

...

Okay, so, Sasuke has never been the most intuitive when it comes to emotions. And he’s also never been great at acknowledging or learning about culture surround a/b/o dynamics because he’s always been adamant that he doesn’t care for it or need it.

But now Sasuke is starting to think that may have been a mistake. Because things are going wrong with this whole courting situation (that Sasuke still can’t believe is happening to him.)

Things were fine! But now the alpha courting him is getting colder and not wanting to train as much, and Sasuke doesn’t know what’s changed! He’s angry and upset about it.

He’s been brooding for about a week about the whole situation, but now he’s decided to ask someone for advice.

His friends are useless. His mother just laughed and told him it would work out if it was supposed to. Shisui is on a mission. He’d rather die than ask Kakashi sensei. So, unfortunately, he had to ask his brother, even though he was sure to get some embarrassing and invasive questioning from him. The sadist.

So, he goes to see his brother.

Who isn’t there.

His brother’s alpha tells him that Itachi is out with their pup all day running errands and taking him for his bi yearly check-ups. But Sasuke needs to know what’s going wrong and how to fix this now! He doesn't have time to wait for Itachi to be done with his stupid errands!

His brother’s alpha notices how tense he is and asks if he would like to stay for some tea, and Sasuke accepts before he thinks about what he's doing. Their relationship is much better nowadays but Sasuke can’t help but feel a little awkward around them still.

…

“Here,” they say, sliding two teacups onto the table. “You like green tea, right? It’s the only type we have in, you know what Itachi’s like with tea.”

“Green tea is fine,” Sasuke says politely if a little stiff.

His brother’s alpha sits down at the other side of the couch with their own tea, and the two sit in silence for a bit, each sipping their own tea

“Sasuke,” they say, shooting him a concerned look. “If you need me to go and get Itachi, I can. You don’t look well, he’ll come back in an instant if you ask him to.”

“No,” Sasuke answers quickly. “It’s fine… I…”

Here goes nothing.

“I’m just having a bit of trouble at the moments, is all, and…”

Itachi’s alpha nods, obviously listening intently with a look of concern on his face that is making this both harder and easier for Sasuke at the same time.

“Go on, Sasuke, I’m listening.”

“I’m sure Itachi told you about my… my er situation,” Sasuke starts, wishing he could punch himself in the face for phrasing it like that.

“That someone’s courting you?” they ask gently.

Sasuke only nods, face burning. He can’t count the number of times he’s told Itachi’s alpha to their face that he’d rather die than enter a courtship. This is so awkward, why is he doing this?

“Did they do something to make you uncomfortable, Sasuke?” they ask immediately after seeing his hesitance. “Because if they did, we can sort it out together okay? It’s not your fault.”

“No!” Sasuke immediately protests far louder than he intended too. “They didn’t… They didn’t do anything, I just… I think I did something wrong…”

Sasuke pretends to drink his tea to avoid having to elaborate any more, despite the fact that it’s still too hot.

“What did you do that was wrong?” they ask, voice still quiet and soothing and Sasuke hates how comforting he finds it. Like it or not, his instincts had branded Itachi’s alpha as ‘safe’ many years ago.

“I don’t know,” Sasuke admits, fiddling with the rim of his cup. “They seemed sad one day and I just thought they had a bad day or something, but now they’re… cold.”

“They aren’t behaving how they were behaving before?”

Sasuke shakes his head.

“Is it possible they have an issue at home or with some of their friends? It might be something in their personal life that's upsetting them.”

Sasuke shakes his head again.

“They seem fine when they’re with everyone else…” he admits. “It’s just me.”

Sasuke forces back the burn of tears he can feel behind his eyes. He will not cry. He won’t do it.

His brother’s alpha hums sadly.

“And you want to figure out what happened?” Sasuke nods. “Okay, why don’t you walk me through what happened on the days leading up to the mood change.”

And so Sasuke does.

He tells them all about how they would meet for training every day and Sasuke would bring two bento boxes for lunch, and then they would sometimes go shopping or go out to eat. Things he hasn’t told anyone about yet. And as he's talking, he really can't see what the problem is, everything seems fine! But maybe Itachi’s alpha might know some alpha thing that he doesn't. Sasuke can easily admit that it’s not his forte.

“I see,” Itachi’s alpha says after Sasuke had finished his story. Sasuke’s tea sits cold on the table next to his brother’s mate’s empty cup. “I think I know what happened.”

Sasuke looks up immediately. No way they’ve already figured it out that easily!

“They thought you were rejecting them,” Itachi’s alpha says simply.

“Wha- But…we spent everyday together! How could that be a rejection?!”

“When an alpha is courting an omega,” they start to explain. “They’re trying as hard as they can to prove to that omega that they can be a good mate.”

“I know that,” Sasuke snaps.

“Listen to me for a second, Sasuke," they softly reprimand. "So, when an alpha, particularly a younger one, is courting an omega, they are very sensitive to rejection, they look for it everywhere.”

“Why?” Sasuke asks, dumbfounded.

“Well, when I was courting your brother, we weren’t that much older than you are now, and I remember thinking that he was the most perfect person in the whole world,” their eyes take on a faraway look as they reminisce. “I was so sure that he must have had hundreds of alphas clawing for his attention every day, and so I was desperate to prove to him that I could be a good mate.

“With every gift, on every date, I would watch his reaction to everything, overanalysing every laugh and smile and frown. I loved him so much, but I couldn’t help but think that he would reject me at any moment. He was too good for me, and I knew that. It always felt like he was humouring me, especially at first.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Yeah,” they laugh, unoffended by Sasuke’s harsh tone. “Looking back, I guess it was, but what I’m trying to tell you, is that I can see how some of your actions could have been taken as rejection by a young alpha who was expecting to be rejected.”

“But…” Sasuke says, looking lost. “I didn’t want to reject them, I don’t understand.”

“Here,” they continue patiently. “Let me explain it to you like this. When you went out to eat, you paid for yourself even though they offered, right? Because you didn't want to burden them?"

“Yeah,” Sasuke trails off, unsure what that has to do with anything.

“But to a young, hormonal alpha, you’re basically telling them that you don’t trust them to provide for you, the one thing they are trying most to convince you."

“But I wasn’t-“ Sasuke protests.

“I know you weren’t,” they reassure him. “But that’s the sort of thing that will run through an alpha’s head at that age when courting. Also, you told them you wanted to train with them because you thought they were strong because you wanted to compliment them, right?”

Sasuke blushes but nods.

“And that’s great to start with, but eventually they would probably start to wonder why you wouldn’t want to train just to spend time with them. And you also told them that you had plenty of leftovers to make their lunch with so that they wouldn’t feel like they were burdening you, right? But that just made them feel like you weren’t going out of your way to do something special for them, even though you were. Do you see what I mean now?”

Sasuke blinks, rapidly trying to wrap his head around all this new information.

“And I also have a guess as to what pushed them over the edge into thinking you were rejecting them.”

“What is it?” Sasuke demands. “Tell me.”

“Did they make that scarf for you by hand, Sasuke?”

“Yes,” says Sasuke hesitantly.

“And they scented it?”

Sasuke nods affirmative.

“Did you give anything back?”

“I… Just said thank you… is that not right?”

Itachi’s alpha shakes their head with a patient smile.

“A handmade and scented gift is the most important and meaningful courting gift that there is, Sasuke,” they explain. “It’s what you give to someone to ask them if they want to move from courting to something more serious, to intended mates.”

Sasuke blushes and feels some panic rising in his chest.

“I didn’t know!” he blurts, feeling the need to explain himself.

“I know,” they rush to reassure him. “But the etiquette dictates that the omega, if they wish to move onto that stage, gives the alpha a handmade and scented gift in return, no later than a week after the original gift was given. They must have been very nervous waiting for you, and very upset when you didn’t even let them down softly.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Sasuke whispers, mortified that he had missed something he should have known. This makes so much sense. The sudden depression, the awkwardness at training, the nerves after they had given him the scarf. He’s such an idiot. Against his will, Sasuke starts to feel tears burning at his eyes again. He messed everything up!

“Oh, Sasuke,” they say, scooting closer to him. They hesitantly lay a hand on his leg, and Sasuke makes no move to push them off. “It’s alright, you can fix it.”

“How?” he sniffs, furiously wiping away any tears that manage to escape. “They probably hate me now.”

“Come here,” they say, pulling him into a hug. And for the first time ever, Sasuke accepts a hug from his brother’s alpha.

“It’s alright,” they soothe. “We can fix this, I’ll help you.”

“What can I do?” he questions, feeling miserable.

“You need to make them something and scent it. Then you can explain what happened afterwards, but the gift should go a long way in smoothing over any ruffled feathers. I can help you make something, what do you want to make?”

Sasuke shrugs, still resting his head on his brother’s alpha’s shoulder.

“How about some cupcakes? Itachi and I were planning on doing some baking with the pup tomorrow, so I have all the supplies. And I’m sure we have some ribbon lying around, you can scent the ribbon and use it to tie up the box, how does that sound?”

“But what will you use tomorrow?” Sasuke asks, feeling a little better, but still red in the face.

“I can buy more, Sasuke, don’t worry, but this is a courting emergency, so we have to do it now, okay?”

“Okay.”

…

Itachi comes back from his errands just in time to watch his mate helping his little brother tie a ribbon around a box of cupcakes. The kitchen is covered in baking supplies and empty bowls of batter.

Did they bake cupcakes together?

Itachi can’t believe it. He had been trying to get them to get along better for years.

When Sasuke sees him standing in the door, he blushes and, holding the box of cupcakes to his chest, pushes past him and out the door with a quick nothing more than a quick and murmured greeting.

His pup wiggles in his arms and demands to be put down. He obliges and they immediately run to his alpha for a hug.

“Hey there, buddy, have a good day?”

“It was boring,” they complain. “And the mednin had cold fingers.”

Itachi’s alpha laughs.

“Well, I know something that might make you feel better,” they tease.

“What?! What?!”

“Uncle Sasuke made you something very special,” they say, bringing down a spare cupcake from on top of the counter, iced in his pup's favourite colour. The way his pup’s eyes widen at the sight of it, makes Itachi smile. “You can have it after dinner, okay, and next time we see uncle Sasuke we have to remember to say thank you.”

Itachi watches in amusement as his pup nods furiously and immediately runs off to go wash up for dinner, despite the fact that Itachi hasn’t even started cooking it yet.

“Did you and Sasuke bake together?” Itachi asks, still unbelieving of what he had seen.

You smile, understanding how crazy that must have been for Itachi to walk in on.

“Yes, we… had a little bonding session,” they say. “I’ll tell you about it later, I promise.”

Itachi accepts the answer despite his curiosity and joins his alpha is cleaning the kitchen so that he can start cooking dinner.

And if both of them were smiling too much, well, neither of them brought it up.

#young!sasuke #itachi #uchiha #sasuke #itachi x reader #reader insert #a/b/o #omegaverse #naruto #omega!itachi #alpha!reader #headcanons #gn reader #gender neutral reader #alpha x omega #omega!sasuke

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

weird, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them

technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide

“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”

His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.

“Er… yeah, I remember…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.

Your best friend was an odd character.

You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”

Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.

It being sex.

Not romance.

You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.

“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”

“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”

He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.

“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”

You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.

“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”

You saw Seokjin choke on air.

He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.

“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”

Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”

Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.

“I-It’s not for me!”

“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”

Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”

You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.

“Just?”

He froze.

Silence.

“… Seokjin?”

You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.

Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.

Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.

You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.

“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”

You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.

“What do you mean?”

You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.

It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.

He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.

“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”

“How do you know that?”

You blinked at his question.

“What?”

Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”

Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.

“Uh…”

Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…

Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”

You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”

Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”

You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.

“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”

Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.

“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”

You removed your hand and held onto the rope.

Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.

“Call what?”

“Shi-something?”

“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”

Seokjin blinked very rapidly.

You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”

“Ah! Yeah! That!”

“You want that done to you?”

Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”

You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.

“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”

“Wait,” he blurted.

“What?”

“CanIpracticeonyou?”

“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.

“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”

“Seokjin.”

Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”

“I’ve never–” he wheezed.

“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”

“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”

You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.

“Ack…”

“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”

“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”

You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.

“Why do you have scissors?”

“For cutting the rope.”

“Yeah, but why are they so big?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”

You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.

“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”

“But I’m cold.”

“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.

“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.

You paused.

“I thought you were more sub.”

Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.

You waited.

He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.

“Um, anyway–”

You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.

“My nuts!”

“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”

Hang on.

You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.

“… You are still a sub.”

Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”

You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.

But were you going to?

No.

You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.

“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.

You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”

“You aren’t taking your rings off?”

He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”

He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.

Precarious.

“Ah, perfect.”

Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop squirming.”

He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.

“Watch. Now.”

His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.

“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”

“But I can still get out.”

You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!

“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”

Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.

Hang on.

Seokjin froze.

You froze.

You both looked down.

You smacked him in the cheek.

“Ow!”

“What are you looking there for?!”

“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”

“Nothing! Stop moving!”

“No!”

“You–”

You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.

“Yah!”

You slapped your free hand over his mouth.

“Silence.”

He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.

In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.

Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.

Your eye twitched.

“Stop it.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.

“I said, stop it.”

And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?

You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.

Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.

You stilled.

Hold on a second.

You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.

Kim Seokjin.

Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.

You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”

But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.

Don’t stop?

DON’T STOP?

His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”

His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.

Your heart was racing fast.

He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.

“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”

You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”

You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.

Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”

He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.

Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.

A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.

Still.

You were horny.

And Seokjin was horny.

You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.

“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.

His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…

Now.

You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.

He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?

“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.

Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.

You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.

You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.

“What are you – yah!”

You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.

“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.

You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.

“F-Fuck!”

That shut him up real quick.

Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.

“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”

You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.

You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.

But.

You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.

Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.

“Take it off,” he growled.

Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.

At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?

Yeah, you.

“Oh, f… fucking shit…”

You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.

Seokjin moaned your name.

A shiver of electricity went up your spine.

Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.

You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.

“Whoa!”

You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.

“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”

Uh.

Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?

You hummed casually in response.

“A-Ah…!”

Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.

You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.

“Gah!”

Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.

You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.

Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.

What?

He was handsome!

You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.

“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”

You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”

His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.

“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”

But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.

“Ah, Seok–”

He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.

Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.

Whoa.

He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.

He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.

“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.

“Excuse me?”

There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.

“What?”

Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

“Why are you – gah!”

You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.

“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”

You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.

Okay.

And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.

You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”

Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.

You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.

“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.

Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”

Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.

“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”

You began to rock your hips.

“H-Hey!”

The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”

“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.

Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.

“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.

His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.

You could be a real jerk right now.

His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.

But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.

You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.

“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”

You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.

He needed only one more little push.

“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.

A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.

You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.

“Okay.”

He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…

“Ah! Perfect.”

You cracked open one eye.

And tried not to burst out laughing.

“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.

Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”

“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”

He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.

“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”

He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.

Almost.

Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.

“W… What?” you managed to get out.

He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”

You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.

His cock twitched inside you.

Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.

“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”

You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.

You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.

Alright.

You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.

Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.

“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”

He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.

Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.

Holy shit.

You almost saw stars.

“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”

Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Shut up, Seokjin.”

“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.

“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”

“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”

“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”

Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you

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