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#anyway you can tell i drew this earlier this week In Preparation
chacerider · 2 months
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yeah okay i have a new favorite.
thank you for a wild and beautiful one-year tale, king-ohger 💖👑
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annawrites444 · 2 months
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Matchups!
@sugutoad
A/N: I'm so sorry this is like a week late I was swamped with school and theatre rehearsals 😭 Thank you for your patience <3 ALSO we are name twins... Annas for the win :D
I was also soooo conflicted on who to pair you with because I see you with both Jason AND Percy equally, but Percy matches your type moreee to me sooo...
I matched you up with......Percy Jackson
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Okay Percy is YOUR guy-you have this alluring personality that honestly just drew him in... Like the tide.... get it... (okay im done lmao)
But anyways he's definitely head over heels after he first meets you, I always see Percy as this really well balanced guy, I mean yes he has his moments like any other teen but he is a very understanding guy. Sally raised him RIGHT.
If you guys are ever in a conversation and someone speaks over you or if he interrupts you by accident I know for a FACT that he's sticking up for you making sure you're heard and understood.
On another note, he really does love your voice, I mean he loves everything about You but your soft voice really does calm him in the best way.
It's a canon thing that children of Aphrodite have the most magical eyes and I know he can just absolutely lose himself in yours, he would definitely throw some compliments your way.
Speaking of insecurities and struggles, Percy has had his fair share of insecure moments and while he is more on the social side, he completely understands if you need to kinda take a break from people
and though he hasn't had younger siblings to take care of he is 100% there for you. (Yk how in the show he tells Annabeth to "Be A Kid" I think he would be like that for you too) He would want you to of course put yourself first, yes being there for your siblings is important but taking time for yourself is vital :)
And when you feel like your judgment may be clouded I think Percy knows how to balance that out well and be reasoning with you too
OOOh and the sense of humor, I know Percy has very witty and dry humor at times- I can picture you both throwing out line after line of sarcastic remarks trying to one up the other
He loves the banter you guys might have during quests you're both on or in camp on a regular morning during breakfast, he would just love to joke around with you
Following that earlier point I made- when you pressure yourself too much and sort of spiral, whether it's because of your parents or because of school, Percy is always there to reassure you, and while an 85 to you may be disappointing to him it deserves high, high praise.
I think he would try to work with you to not be so hard on yourself, like when you have to be there for your siblings, your parents, for school, and additionally for camp too??!! You need to just take a breather and he is totally up for that. He would be the first person at your cabin door knocking with some movie snacks (chocolate included) and be down for a binge watching session of your favorite anime or other comfort shows <3
BAKING- okay so, You and Percy bake one night at camp when you sneak into the kitchens after curfew. You came prepared with your hair tied back, apron on and ready. Percy on the other hand was in pajamas with his hair in his eyes but nonetheless was so excited to be there. You both get out your ingredients and when you begin making blue cupcakes. While you are practically a pro at this, Percy is getting batter on himself and on his workspace and while he's stirring some even flies into your hair. You yelp in surprise and flick some batter from your spoon onto his shirt, thus begins your blue-batter-food war. Safe to say you only had enough batter for a few cupcakes but you guys had fun regardless.
I see Percy's personality and yours meshing well together, especially your love languages, when you're a demigod you live a risky life so you're never sure if you'll make it back from a quest to your loved ones, because of this (Percy especially since he's a kid of the big 3) you and Percy make it a point to take a few days out of the weeks you're at camp to dedicate them to each other, he would love to just sneak you into his cabin and cuddle up on a cool night and just talk with you, (yk the meaningful convos people have late at night? thoseee) he would talk about anything with you, running his fingers through yours long hair, he would memorize every expression you make. He'd memorize everything about you to imagine to himself whenever he's a part from you
I hope you enjoyed the matchups ( I absolutely love the match up you gave me <3 )
*also lmk if you're interested in another matchup bc I equally see you with Jason and would love to write for you and him too :) *
Thank you!!
-Anna
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rising-volteccers · 5 months
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A piece I started on last week when I was at the hospital that I finally got around to complete! It's a what-if scene post HZ028 cause I like making Friede suffer haha
Series: Pokemon Horizons
Characters: Friede, Mollie, Murdock (minor)
--
With most of the crew either out or occupied, Mollie had some free time where she could continue with her reading. Currently, she found herself engrossed with a mystery novel she picked up from the last time she went into a city to do some shopping. 
Mollie looked up when she heard the door open. Friede poked his head in, eyes briefly looking around the infirmary before they fell on her. The mildly sheepish smile he sported drew out a quiet sigh.
"Come in and tell me what happened," she spoke, gesturing at the bed on the other side of the infirmary. Mollie placed down her book before standing up. 
Friede pushed the door open further to enter. She kept a keen eye on his movements, swiftly spotting the way he carried himself: slow and somewhat hesitant, as if any sharp motion would hurt. Her mind quickly came up with a few reasons for it, though she'd need to properly check him out first. 
Friede eventually sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't try to scoot himself back so he could sit a bit more comfortably. He sat upright, stiff as a board with his arms braced by his side. That narrowed down the possibilities considerably.
"I can see that you're in pain, likely from your back. Take off your jacket, shift to your side and tell me what happened."
Mollie left him to struggle for all of five seconds before she stepped in to help, knowing that he'd be too stubborn to ask for it. Eventually they managed to get his jacket off, leaving Friede in his long sleeved shirt. She then carefully lifted the back of his shirt, frowning deeply at what she saw.
An impressive array of bruises marred his back. Mollie reached out to lightly brush her fingertips against one of them, causing Friede to gasp and flinch away from her touch. 
"So, uh, we went to meet Diana's friend. Turns out the guy was sketchy and stole Roy's Ancient Pokeball. Cap and I found him by his cart but then he pulled a fast one by tipping it over onto us. Boxes and what not came crashing down alongside the cart," Friede explained, keeping his voice tightly controlled throughout Mollie's inspection.
Quiet worry seeped into her expression. A whole cart and various items fell onto him? No wonder his back looked painfully colorful. Her immediate concen right now was the severity of it all. Anything concerning the back should never be taken lightly.
“Is there anything else that hurts? Do you feel any weakness in your legs? Like it feels numb or tingling?”
“Nope. Just the back hurts like I just got trampled by a herd of Tauros.”
Friede had the tendency to downplay things but it seemed like he told the truth. Mollie chose to accept his words, though she’d keep a close eye on him for the next few days. In the meantime, she needed to treat these bruises first.
“Lie on your stomach. I’ll be right back,” she instructed, standing up to head out of the infirmary. Mollie made a beeline to the kitchen, where she found Murdock in the midst of preparing dinner. 
“Oh Mollie, did you need something?” Murdock asked, pausing in his chopping.
“I’m just here to grab the ice pack. Friede hurt his back earlier,” she replied, passing by him to open the freezer. There she took out a plastic bag where she often kept the ice packs in. 
“Ouch, what happened?” Concern dripped from Murdock’s tone.
“Apparently a whole cart got tipped onto him when he was searching for Roy’s Pokeball that got stolen. I’m sure Roy will tell us all about what happened during dinner later.” Mollie paused to inspect the ice pack in hand. There wasn’t any unpleasant odours sticking to it thankfully. “Anyway, his back’s bruised. You mind taking up tonight’s shift? I’m not allowing him to do all nighters for at least a few days.”
“Yeah, no problem. Guess we’re going to have to deal with a sulky captain for a bit, huh?”
Mollie rolled her eyes, though she wore a faint smile. “A small price to pay to make sure he doesn’t injure himself any further.”
“Right.” Murdock too wore a similar look. “Well, I wish you luck in dealing with him. Don’t worry about tonight, I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks Murdock.” With that, Mollie exited the kitchen and headed back to the infirmary, carrying the ice pack that she wrapped around a clean cloth for now.
When Mollie returned, she was quietly pleased to find that Friede followed her instruction. He laid on his stomach, head cushioned atop folded arms. He tried lifting his head to look back at her upon hearing the door open.
“Stay still. I have ice packs that should help with the bruises.”
Mollie once again pulled up the back of Friede’s shirt. Carefully, she placed one at his upper back and another on his lower back. Friede winced at the initial contact but the ice packs appeared to help from the way he relaxed slightly minutes later.
“How does it feel?”
“A bit better, thanks.”
“I'll give you some painkillers to help with the pain later. For now, no strenuous activities for at least a few days. That means no flying on Charizard and no night shifts.”
“What? But tonight's supposed to be–”
“I've already asked Murdock to cover for tonight.”
“But Mollie–”
“No but Mollie me. Back injuries are no joke Friede. I'm not going to have you risk worsening it by not resting,” Mollie asserted, fixing him with a stern look. “We both know you're just going to fall asleep at the captain's chair again even though I've told you time and time again that it's not good for your back.”
“...not all the time.” While she couldn't see his face, Mollie heard the sulkiness in his voice clear as day. Honestly, her captain could be pretty darn predictable. He never took orders to rest and relax all that easy. Friede always needed to be doing something, whether it be for himself or for the crew. 
Mollie released a silent sigh. She gently placed her hand on Friede’s shoulder, giving it an assuring squeeze.
“Hey, I know you don't like this, and I don't like having to tell you that but it's important that you take it easy. I mean it Friede, back injuries are no joke. It's only until the bruises fade and you're not in any pain moving about, okay?”
Friede remained silent for a while before giving a slight nod. He sighed deeply, turning his head so that Mollie could see his face–namely the frown he wore.
“Yeah, yeah I understand. Just… it sucks. Can't believe that guy got the jump on me like that,” he grumbled. Friede looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I didn't know if Diana was serious but she was about to torch that guy with her Arcanine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Looked like she wanted to burn that guy to a crisp for lying to her.”
“Honestly, I understand. I'd do the same too.”
“...it's a little scary when you say that. You don't mean that, do you?”
“So long as you follow my instructions to take it easy…”
Mollie raised her eyebrow as Friede looked up at her with wide eyes. They maintained eye contact for a few before they broke into chuckles. Friede's quickly turned into a wince but the mood between them eased up considerably.
While she’d likely deal with a whiny Friede tomorrow, it was just par for the course of being together with this crew. Mollie wouldn't have it any other way.
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butwhyduh · 2 years
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Yo B!
I was just doing my stuff and then a random thought appear:
Just Jason dating Damian's teacher without knowing that she's Damian's teacher. Like the realisation hits when he brings her to the Wayne Manor. It hits everyone: Damian, Jason, the teacher. Only Bruce and Tim are lik lmao I figured it out at the beginning of the relationship (though shut up you two cuz I still remember the Hanukkah headcanon of both of them celebrating because they thought it's important to one another. Happy Hanukkah btw to y'all celebrating!)
Not to mention if she teaches something that Damian doesn't really like or if he has a puppy crush on her (because those things happen).
And the moment of realisation that your older brother is boinking your teacher and maybe that's why she was so happy the other day.
So much drama, so much awkwardness! That I love it!
What's your opinion B?
Btw. I love your characterisation of Batfamily you can portray every character very true to the original.
Aww thanks ☺️ and this idea is hilarious 🤣
Warning: some bad words and a food fight. Also it’s Alfred’s birthday.
Jason met you at a Whole Foods of all places. You don’t normally go there but a sale drew you in. And you were so drawn in that you didn’t notice until you actually hit a guy with your basket.
“Oh god! I’m so sorry!” You gasped feeling yourself flush. He kinda laughed. A tall, very fit, handsome man smiling and laughing. That was new.
“No no. The sale on tomatoes is a big deal. I’ll move so you don’t have to run me down,” he joked.
“I-“ you stammered. “I’d rather not run you over.” You laughed and he nodded.
“Oh hey, your book fell out,” Jason said picking a book up off the floor. “Hamlet, hu?”
“Oh yeah. I’m a teacher,” you explained taking the book from him. Oh boy, he had the prettiest blue eyes too. “Thanks.”
“No problem. If I’m nice to you, you might not run me over again,” he flirted. You laughed.
Across the produce section, Tim Drake came to a stop and backed up slightly to watch Jason flirt with a woman. Bruce came up behind him and Tim stopped him.
“Look,” Tim motioned quietly. Jason hadn’t noticed either of them.
“Oh, oh. Well, that’s nice,” Bruce said awkwardly looking away. Tim snorted.
“Take a closer look.”
“That’s Damian’s English teacher,” Bruce confirmed what Tim already knew. They watched as you put your number in Jason’s phone.
“Should we tell him,” Tim said like a kid with the hottest gossip. “Damian will flip out too.”
“We’re not telling anyone. We don’t even know if they’ll even go on a date and it’s none of Damian’s business. I forbid you from telling anyone. Dick, Barbara, Cass, Stephanie. No one. Jason… deserve a little happiness. Don’t mess it up,” Bruce said strictly.
“Geez, I get it,” Tim said with his arms raised. “I won’t say anything. But imagine them dating. It’ll be hilarious!”
“Go back down that isle. We won’t come back until Jason is done talking to her. I don’t want him to know we know,” Bruce said all business like.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be like a ghost,” Tim replied. “I need siracha anyways.”
7 weeks later
It was Alfred’s birthday and that was traditionally when all the family got together. It also happened to fall during Hanukkah this year. So the family prepared a big dinner meal without Alfred allowed to join. He protested multiple times but Bruce refused. Instead they ordered food from Alfred’s favorite restaurant and a dessert from his favorite bakery. Aunt Kate, the only one who actually knew what to do around Hanukkah, was invited as well. Tim and Bruce had yet to admit that neither were actually practicing.
“I want to meet your mysterious friend,” Alfred told Jason one day a week earlier over tea. “I believe I heard you are dating.”
“Geez, nothing gets past you, hu?” Jason said ruefully. Alfred smiled in his tea. “I’ll invited her. But if the family scares her off…”
“I’ll personally burn their meals for a month,” Alfred replied promptly.
“Remind me not to make you mad,” Jason muttered.
“Indeed,” Alfred said with a grin before taking a sip of his tea.
The night of Alfred’s birthday party was turning disastrous by the minute. They sent the wrong cake and added bacon to four dishes and while that was generally a good addition, maybe not on Hanukkah. Bruce at least knew that. Kate wasn’t coming and Bruce was technically raised by an Anglican Christian British man and knew very little about Hanukkah. But he was going to try for Tim to have a good holiday.
Jason hadn’t told Bruce that he was bringing a date but Bruce knew Barbara was coming with Dick and Tim had Bernard and Damian was bringing Jon and they were definitely dating or something. Steph was coming with Cass but she’s been at every family dinner even before they started dating. But she was also Tim’s ex which was weird. Bruce needed an Advil. Or a beer. Luckily Alfred was at the spa that Bruce insist he visit for the day or he would have certainly taken over and it was his birthday.
But finally they had a bacon free kosher meal with the correct dessert delivered. And Bruce managed to do it without going absolutely insane.
The menorah was brought out and Bruce quickly googled Hanukkah traditions that he hadn’t participated in since he was 8. His mother’s side always had Hanukkah dinners and his father’s side had Christmas morning and dinner. But all of that came to a winding halt when his parents died. He had brought Christmas back when he adopted Roman Catholic Dick and until Tim, none of them had any other holiday. When Bruce learned Tim didn’t celebrate because he was always alone for the holidays, Bruce took the time to add some Jewish holidays to his calendar. But he couldn’t remember pretty much any of the traditions that went with them. Bruce wasn’t going to recite any prayers since he felt it unfair to do as someone non-practicing. Tim or Kate could if they wanted.
Tim didn’t know how to tell Bruce he was non-practicing either. Bruce almost broke down when Tim tried to explain he didn’t celebrate any holidays because his parents were never home when they were alive and Tim couldn’t bring himself to say that didn’t exactly feel the need to start as someone who’s firmly atheist. So when Bruce asked if he wanted to recite the prayer, Tim had almost peed his pants before suggesting a moment of silence so people of all religions can have a moment. Both of them were secretly relieved.
But that put Bruce into a tailspin as he wondered what other religions he needed to accommodate for his kids. He should ask them what they needed. What if he already missed a holiday or religious need??
“Master Bruce, I’m home. I shall avert my eyes if needed,” Alfred called in the hallway. Bruce hopped up to meet him. Alfred looked more refreshed then he had in months and was carrying a few shopping bags.
“You can come out. Nothing to hide,” Bruce said and Alfred nodded with a curt smile.
“I’m simply overjoyed that the kitchen is in one piece,” Alfred commented carrying his bags upstairs.
“We knew better than to cook,” Bruce replied.
“Then my stomach is also overjoyed for food safety,” Alfred said before disappearing from sight.
Dick and Barbara showed up with chocolate coins. Bruce had forgotten those and was filled with cold dread.
“We got them. Don’t worry. I once again save the day,” Dick said with a grin.
“I actually thought of them,” Barbara replied with an eye roll.
“And I thought to invite you.”
“Jon!” Damian called out before running down the stairs to open the main door. Jon stood with a casserole dish in hand and a present bag on his wrist.
“Hey Dami! Hello Mr Wayne, Dick, Barbara,” Jon said politely. Damian grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him in. Damian quickly pulled the stuff from Jon’s hands and placed them on the nearest surface despite Jon’s protest.
“I have the newest Cheese Viking game,” Damian said as they ran upstairs. Steph and Cass walked downstairs just as the boys left and they both started talking to Dick and Barbara.
Tim showed up next looking nervous as can be with Bernard in tow. He politely introduced him to everyone slightly more formally that necessary. Bruce shook Bernards hand and welcomed him to his home and Bruce noted that Tim relaxed minutely.
“Jason is late as usual,” Bruce commented a good 30 minutes later. “Has anyone been able to get ahold of him?”
“I texted but no response,” Dick replied. Bruce sighed.
“Let’s get started and he can join us when he gets here,” Bruce suggested.
They all sat around the table with Bruce at one end and Alfred, guest of honor, at the other, at Bruce’s insistence of course. Right before everyone dug into the first course of the meal, the sound of shoes in the hallway came to their attention. Jason’s date was there.
“Hey sorry we’re late. The highway was shit,” Jason said ushering in his lady guest. You moved to the chair he offered and let Jason push in the seat.
“Your scarf,” Alfred started to stand but Jason waved him off and helped you of your scarf and coat and hung them up himself before sitting down. It was only then that you were able to look at the guests at the table.
Mr Wayne smiled politely as well as Dick. The younger brother Tim had a wide grin and just as Jason sat down, you saw Damian. You blinked quickly.
He called you by your last name the way one would a teacher and everyone turned to him. Tim was practically splitting his face in two with his grin. Jason looked between you and Damian before the thought connected and his eyes widened.
“Are you dating my brother??” Damian asked.
“I-“ you stuttered before looking at Jason. “You didn’t tell me you had a little brother in school.”
“It wasn’t relevant,” he replied. “Is he- do you teach him?”
“Todd,” Damian said grasping a table knife tightly. “Did you go out of your way to date my English teacher??”
“No, you little psycho. I have a pretty hard fast rule about avoiding middle schools for dates,” Jason said puffing up a bit.
“Boys,” Bruce warned knowing they were going to start fighting any second and he actually liked the soup.
“Why are you grinning, Drake,” Damian growled. “Did you know? Did you set them up?”
“No one set us up, Damian,” you replied.
“I had nothing to do with this!” Tim protested.
“You are not that important,” Jason growled.
“Yeah, then why are you dating my teacher, you oaf,” Damian sneered.
“Boys,” Alfred warned but Jason and Damian were too far gone and when Damian slung mashed potatoes at Jason, it desolved into chaos. Some food slapped Dick directly in the face and as he was trying to calm the others down, it made him very mad.
Jason grabbed Damian by the collar and went to haul him over the table but in Damian’s flailling, he kicked an entire saucer of gravy in Bernard’s lap. Tim helped him up and grabbed the saucer to throw but it instead hit Bruce in the head. Bruce was currently separating Damian and Jason. Jon hopped up and helped you out of your seat only to be hit with a paper table decoration coated in whipped cream.
“STOP NOW,” bellowed Alfred and the boys stopped fighting. “Clean all of this up immediately! I am going to bed and I want this room to gleam in the morning.”
Everyone had the decency to look guilty while cleaning. And everyone- even Bruce- cleaned until it was Alfred worthy. It took a full 10 minutes since they didn’t let any of the dates clean, including Jon who could have done it in a second. Bruce bought Bernard an entire new outfit to be delivered to his house.
Jason was awkwardly silent on the ride back to your place. You glanced over to look at him and he glanced at you quickly before looking away. You couldn’t handle it when he pulled in your driveway.
“Okay, let’s talk about the elephant in the room. I’m your kid brother’s English teacher. You already knew I was a teacher and I didn’t know you had a kid brother,” you said. Jason nodded.
“So you’ve got to decide if you want to see me anymore or not. Because I really like you and what I do for a living shouldn’t-“
He cut you off with a kiss. His rough fingers cupped your cheeks and his mouth pressed heavily against yours. Jason kissed you until his lungs burned and he pulled back panting.
“I definitely want to keep seeing you. I’m just- just embarrassed that my family acted that way. God. You sure you don’t want to run screaming into the night?” He asked.
“I’ll try to resist the urge,” you replied playfully nipping at his lips but not enough to count as a kiss. Jason tried to follow you each time until you finally gave him a good kiss. “I teach middle schoolers. Do you think I have a bone of fear in my body?”
“That’s my girl,” Jason added with a grin.
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sweeterthanthis · 3 years
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Your Filthy Heart
Part Three: The Pure and The Poison
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Your Filthy Heart Masterlist
Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!
Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.
Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.
 Word Count: 3.5k
“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 
There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 
He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.
You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 
“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”
“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 
Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 
Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 
You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 
Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 
Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 
Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 
She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  
You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 
But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 
You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 
You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 
“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 
James. 
She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 
You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 
“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 
Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 
He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 
“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 
The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 
“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 
Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 
At the worst possible moment. 
“What do we have here?” 
Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 
Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 
“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 
All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 
“Finally, huh?” 
Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 
“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 
The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 
With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 
“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”
Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 
As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 
You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.
Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 
As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 
“Oh!”
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 
Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 
Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 
How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 
“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 
Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 
Fuck him. 
You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 
He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 
Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 
“What the-” 
One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 
He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 
Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 
But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 
The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 
“How dare—”
Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.
Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 
“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 
Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 
“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”
“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”
One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 
“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 
You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 
“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”
The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 
“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 
Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 
“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  
Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.
“Daddy—” 
His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 
“Suck.” 
You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 
“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 
A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 
Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 
You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.
“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 
“Daddy, I-” 
“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 
Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 
It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  
“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 
His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 
Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 
“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”
Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 
You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 
“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 
Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 
“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 
You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 
“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 
Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 
You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 
“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 
Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 
It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 
You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 
“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 
Baby. 
Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 
“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 
It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 
He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 
“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 
You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 
You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 
“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 
He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 
“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 
“Again.”
“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 
There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 
Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 
“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 
Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 
Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 
“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”
You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 
“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”
You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 
“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 
“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”
You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 
“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 
With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 
Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 
Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 
No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.
As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 
“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 
You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.
“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 
“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 
Our girl. 
It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 
“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 
“Please, call me Bucky.” 
You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.
He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 
This was what you needed.
This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 
So why did it feel so wrong? 
What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 
“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 
“You have no idea.” 
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Text
not allowed v, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of jungkook x reader – est. poly relationship
summary: BTS have had a long, busy day. Heck, a busy week, preparing for 2021 Grammys performance and interviews. It’s finally over, and all Min Yoongi wants is to take a shower and sleep with his favorite person. There’s no one like you. He deserves some special treatment – some belated birthday wishes granted perhaps?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; domestic shower care (aww) and shower sex (hell yeah); feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, handjob / blowjob (with tongue technology), f-receiving oral, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; occurs the night of the 2021 Grammys
part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: MYG asks JJK to fuck you, again, let’s keep this going, oop JK dyed his hair blue; based on real time.
"I'm sorry you didn't win."
"It's okay. It was a long shot anyway."
"Well, you are good at basketball, so you can make a long shot, easy."
A deep, raspy chuckle. "Next time."
Water drummed against the tile, the rhythm interrupted by you working shampoo through black hair, conjuring fistfuls of lathered white clouds. The head lifted a little and you were about to chastise him, but one look into those black-brown eyes and small sheepish smile looking down at you, and you forgot what you were going to say. 
"It was never about us anyway. We wanted to win so ARMY could brag about us."
You grinned, chuckling a little. "They always brag about you, Yoongi."
You saw something flit across his face, but he didn't say anything. You already knew. I wish you could brag about me. And you did, but not in the way he wanted, because he was Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, Agust D sometimes, and your secret all of the time. You closed the distance, a simple, sweet kiss in response to his wordless wish, I know, me too, hands curling in his soapy hair, smiling gently against his lips. Hm. You could feel Yoongi was thoroughly enjoying your wet breasts against his chest. 
Something hard was poking you quite insistently.
You drew back a little and Yoongi's hands circled your waist, keeping your hips to him.
"Thought you said you were sleepy?" you teased.
Yoongi grinned slyly. "I changed my mind."
You chuckled, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off, forcing him to close his eyes with a displeased grunt. You could tell from his dark circles that he was tired from the stress of the day, having to wake up at two in the morning and be ready for his call time at five, but he still insisted for you to come, still insisted for you to sneak around and be here when he came home. You didn't get to see Yoongi on his birthday and not during the weekend before either. He was too busy filming content and preparing for the Grammys.
You did send him a voice message of you singing happy birthday and he replied with, thank you, my love, instead of the usual, you would benefit from a vocal coach, which meant he missed you far too much to tease you. 
You carefully straightened his neck and Yoongi breathed out, raising a hand to push his black hair away from his face, slicking it back and exposing his forehead. 
Oof.
Sexy. 
Yoongi's eyes opened, dark brown orbs reflecting the mischief in his smirk. 
"You sure you don't want me to call the maknae?" he asked not-so-innocently. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew what he was doing. 
Your boyfriend had posted a selfie this morning, only to be followed up by Jeon Jungkook’s adorable pose in a colorful fluffy flannel shirt on Weverse. Earlier in the week, Jungkook had cutely invaded and sang happy birthday on Yoongi’s celebratory live, and then put up a picture of himself on his post for said hyung’s birthday.
The absolute gall of the Golden Maknae. 
Needless to say, you were disappointed, but not surprised. Only slightly though. Jungkook was like that. A little bit – alright, a lot – of a naughty little shit that needed his cock brutally choked by your throat or pussy every once in a while. Actually, no, definitely both, just to be on the safe side. But this day was not that day.
"You said you wanted to be selfish today," was your calm response to Yoongi's question, reaching behind him to rinse off your hands, pressing your tits into his chest. Your eyes flickered up to his. Yoongi raised an eyebrow as your fingers trailed on his back, drawing small patterns. 
"Has he been a bad boy?" he chuckled, referring to, of course, the shameless audacity of your other boyfriend, well-loved and doted-on Jeon Jungkook. 
Your expression matched his, inquiring but already knowing the answer. A silent conversation between kindred souls that followed the same thought process. Closer, water gliding between your bodies, lips fitting against his, lightly nipping at his lower lip as if to say, we're both a little mean, Yoongi chuckling in agreement as he captured your lips forcefully. Hands all over wet bodies, pressing him to you and him reciprocating, hot water seeming hotter, steam getting steamier, kisses passionate and intense, Yoongi pushing you into the shower wall, not letting you get away.
Jungkook had known you were coming, but he wasn't allowed to attend this time. 
He said he was tired from the events of today and he wanted you to spend time with Yoongi alone because it had been Yoongi's birthday recently and they should definitely get special treatment during their birthdays, right?
"I want special treatment on my birthday, so I suppose hyung should as well..." 
"Ah, that's too bad, I was looking forward to punishing you."
"Noona...!" You could hear the shy pout in Jungkook's voice as it lowered, whispering into his phone. "Don't say stuff like that..."
You heard a sneaky cat-like purr in the background. "Say what?"
Jungkook started and you heard the violent rattle of the phone falling, followed by scrambles to retrieve it. Ah. You could see now why Jungkook's phone was taped.
"Hyung! Don’t... I thought you were still in the bathroom..."
"Mmm." You knew that what that hum meant. You've been on the phone for a while. And Jungkook had, lamenting that he wished they could have won the award and had a celebration live with ARMY and you had to reassure him over and over that there would be more chances and ARMY was already very proud with the nomination, yourself included. 
"Uh... do you want to talk to hyung? He's here..." Jungkook did not sound like he wanted to give his phone up. He was only asking out of politeness.
"No, Jungkook, I'll see him in a bit."
"She said no, huh?" Yoongi mused and then you heard the sounds of footsteps wandering away. 
Jungkook made a questioning noise, but you reoriented him rather quickly. 
"I want to hear your voice some more, Jungkook." You recalled the opening of the Grammys 'Dynamite' performance and his teasing, cocky nose scrunch. "Was feeling rather sexy during the recording, weren't you?"
"You saw?" An edge of excitement to his tone. "That was for you, noona," he added playfully. 
"No, it wasn't."
His faint, wicked snicker. "Okay, you're right, but I did think about you while doing it."
"Mmmhmm. What part of me? My smiling face or my warm mouth wrapped around your cock?"
"Noona!"
Alright, you did end up giving Jungkook a little bit of punishment, because neither you nor himself could help it. And at the very end, he played along, whining for you because he knew you wanted him to. Fuck, he was getting clever now, remembering all the things you liked. Stupid sexy Jungkook and his duality.
"Can't I come too? Please, noona?"
It took a lot of refuse his cute voice, but you did make a promise to Yoongi and you never broke your promises.
"Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."
Reliving your memory was abruptly interrupted by two fingers sliding into your pussy.
"Excuse you," you muttered into Yoongi's lips. 
"What are you thinking about that's gotten you so wet, hm?" he drawled, dripping water down your cheeks and chest, kissing from your lips and up your jaw, slowly working his fingers in and out, your wetness thicker, warmer than the water, leaking down his knuckles. His voice in your ear, low and dangerous, making you fall for him more and more. "Thinking about me or the maknae?"
...
Min Yoongi knew you too well.
"T-That's..."
Couldn't think of a smart comeback, not with Yoongi's voice so sensual and invasive, staring up at the hazy ceiling while he sucked on your ear, biting your lip to stifle your moans, nerves lighting with shivering arousal. His fingers controlled, measured, focused on deeply penetrating you to graze your favorite spots, rubbing your walls and pressing his thumb into your clit, slow circles causing throbs of pleasure to glide through you. Yoongi knew all the places that made you weak, licking right under your ear to make you whimper for him, kissing and sucking up and down the curve. The warm water created a steady hum, background music for his dirty words. 
"Is that why Jungkookie ran so fast to the bathroom earlier today, hm? Mmm, you shouldn't mess with him so much. You should know better as his noona," Yoongi murmured softly, speeding up, catching your earlobe with his teeth and tugging on it, words slightly muffled as he continued, waves of heat flaring upwards with every thrust. "He'll keep teasing you, pretending it's for ARMY, and then when he has you next, he'll make you beg for his cock…" Teeth biting down, leaving a visible mark, his gravelly whisper sparking inhibitions. 
"And I'm going to watch you."
Fuck you, Min Yoongi, for always knowing the right thing to say.
Yoongi flicked your clit and you cried out, bucking into his hand, almost losing balance, but his left arm came up behind the small of your back and held you in place, strong and unyielding, orgasm cut short with your sudden worry of straining his recovery, but Yoongi already knew, cooing comfortingly in your inflamed ear. 
"I was dancing during the recording, remember?"
Right, he was cleared to dance, but still...
And again, Yoongi led you back into the proper headspace, kissing and nipping down your neck, tongue against your collarbones, stroking your side with his left hand as his right pushed in and out of you, building the pace and your needy gasps once more. 
"Shh, you're a good girl, don't move and nothing bad will happen."
A tinge of menace in his voice, indicating the double meaning, I won't get hurt and maybe you won't get punished. Only a maybe though, sending a delighted spark up your spine, pressing your shoulder blades into the shower wall, instinctively raising one of your legs to give Yoongi more space. You glanced down, but he wasn't looking at you, eyes calmly closed, soaked black strands sticking to his forehead as his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Instant pleasure from his expert tongue, teasing the moans of his name out of you, praising him, fuck yes, Yoongi, so good, I love this, fingers filling you repeatedly, thumb knuckle grinding onto your clit, sucking on your hard nipple. You were so focused on the feeling that your torso froze up, head and hands pressed into the wall, back arcing as you came, pulses of ecstasy enveloping you, but Yoongi didn't stop, forcing another finger inside your tight hole, whines in your throat as your shuddering pussy sucked it in, still riding waves of aftershocks.
His left hand slid up and pinched your ignored nipple. 
"Yoongi, fuck...!"
You could only curse the gods that created the genius that was Min Yoongi, chuckling as he rubbed your left nipple, sucked on the right, thumb knuckle on your clit, three fingers fully stuffed inside you, so hard and so fast that his forearm was nearly vibrating. Too coordinated, too rough, too much, mind going blank, already orgasming, and again, and again, not stopping.
He was too good. 
Yoongi wasn’t going to stop until you made him. 
Your eyes rolled back, rocketing bolts of pleasure overtaking everything, entire body shaking and quivering with overstimulation, your own knuckles white because your fingers somehow curled into fists, moans rattling your chest as wave after wave of pleasure attacked you, pushing you to the brink of collapse.
"Y-Yoongi, oh, fuuuuuuuk, Yoongi!"
Your body made the executive decision for you, left hand shooting down and grabbing his forearm, gripping it tightly, gasping for air, making sure to keep his long fingers buried all the way inside, his hard muscle flexing under your palm. Fuck, so hot. Yoongi immediately stopped, detaching his mouth from your nipple, and you could barely protest, tremors thundering through your torso as your pussy spasmed and soaked his fingers with your sweet-sour juices, your inner muscles rapidly clenching and unclenching around him, his low moans filling your ears as he felt each strong pulse, stretching his fingers against your convulsing walls to amplify your pleasure and feel it all.
"Fuck..." Yoongi panted, leaning against you and your heaving chest. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you're wrecked." 
His lips on your temple, kissing you fiercely, grinding his crotch into your hip and revealing how hard he was as you tried to come down, tried to calm your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. You turned your head to face him and he was there, devouring your lips with rough kisses, pulling his fingers out to tug and pinch at your nipples with his knuckles, smirking at your submissive whines, your hands wandering down and gripping his length, leisurely stroking him.
Now Yoongi was the one gasping into your mouth, switching to rubbing your hard sensitive nipples to coax you to do more, switching your positions in the shower so his back was to the water. The two of you were only half-finished washing up, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.
You backed up a little, breaking the kiss, seeing Yoongi’s dazed expression as you lightly cupped the head of his cock in your palm, gently rolling into the slickness, continuing for several seconds before adding a little more pressure. He inhaled sharply, pleading for more with his breathing alone. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, black hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips slightly parted, water trickling in rivets down his neck and chest.
Yoongi noticed you staring and gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.
Who taught Jeon Jungkook how to be hot as hell?
It had to have been Min Yoongi.
You mentally took note of this image of wet Yoongi so you could masturbate to it later.
He cocked a brow and you cocked one back, challenging him. Then you dropped to your knees, careful with the slippery floor, and yanked his hips to your face so he blocked all of the water with his body. His stiff length smacked you in the lips and smeared pre-cum on them. You heard Yoongi gasp and you looked up, seeing him watching you, expectation and hunger in his dark eyes.
You smirked, tongue snaking out and licking your lips to taste him.
“Is my good girl going to do all my favorite things?” he drawled in his extra-low octave.
Your pussy throbbed at his domineering tone. You didn’t have to say anything, your scorching gaze alone creating that amused smirk on Yoongi’s lips. I know what you want. One hand holding up his cock, leaning forward, and Yoongi groaned in satisfaction, your mouth sucking in one of his balls, your deft tongue circling the other in loud, messy slurps, suffocating one while licking the other. You flicked your wrist back and forth, pumping his cock as you worked his balls, lips tight and pulling slightly, tongue flexed and slapping against the other.
You looked up at Yoongi’s dilated pupils, knowing that he could see flashes of your pink tongue against his balls, your hand stroking him slowly and deliberately.
“You’re so good, fuck… So fucking good at that,” Yoongi panted. “Every other man in the world is jealous that they’re never going to get to experience this.”
You popped your mouth off, making him hiss with pleasure. “That’s not true. I’ll give it to Jungkookie eventually.”
“Ah, he’s lucky that I picked him.”
You raised your eyebrows, you picked him, uh huh, I was the one stalking him on Twitter, and Yoongi nudged you with his hips, eyes narrowing dangerously, put my balls in your fucking mouth, and you obeyed, switching to his right side and sucking it into your plush lips, tongue snaking out to lap at his left one, now pumping him with your dominant right hand. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly, clenching his jaw as you increased to his favorite pressure and speed.
“Fuck, yes, make me cum just like this,” he snarled, as much a plea as it was an order, rocking his hips a little so he tugged on his balls in your mouth, forcing you to suck harder and lick more roughly to keep him in place, obscene slurps adding another layer to the song that was the falling water, Yoongi’s moans, and the rapid slap-slap-slap of your hand furiously jacking off his twitching hardness. You glanced up at him and he was observing you closely, drinking in every second of your mouth, hand, and spread-open thighs as you kneeled for him, water dripping off your nipples and ass, groaning your name, tone saturated with lust.
“Ah, fuck, I love you so much, you look so fucking good like this…”
You could tell he was getting close with how shallow his breathing was becoming. Tighter, harder, so devoted to the cause that you were whimpering to add vibration to the multiple sensations, drunk on the taste of his skin and the scent of his pre-cum right next to your head, needing it, wanting it, right now, your eyes telling him, please Yoongi, cum for me, want you to cum for me so bad, and he bit his lip, tense growl contained in his throat that morphed into a drawn-out wail.
“Fuck, now, fuck!”
You abruptly pulled off his balls and Yoongi gasped, startled and confused as you quickly repositioned yourself so he shot thick strings onto your mouth, painting your red swollen lips with drizzles of white, up your cheek and onto your nose, dark eyes wide as he witnessed his indecent mark on you. Like something out of a literal porno, your lips coated with glossy lines of his semen. You looked up at him, still holding his cock, sinfully triumphant.
Your devious smirk covered in cum.
“You wicked, dirty woman,” Yoongi breathed in amazement.
His hand was travelling down so you removed yours, already guessing what was coming next. You placed your hands on your thighs, sinking into the softness as Yoongi groaned, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping himself slowly to the image of your cum-covered puffy lips, red and white, upper body tilted back so your hard nipples pointed upwards towards him, squeezing your breasts together with your arms while your hands kept your thighs spread, wet pussy exposed to him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, so hard you could see the flashes of veins standing out through his fingers. “You’re too much, too sexy, come closer so I can use that mouth.”
You scooted nearer and Yoongi pushed his cock into your lips, moaning as he watched his orgasm smear down his length and disappear with each centimeter his cock into your tight, hot mouth, your eyes taking in the jerks of his shoulders and slack jaw, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. He was so turned on that you knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted, but there was no stopping him now, already shallowly thrusting. You knew how to make him pause though, tightly tensing your throat muscles around the tip. Yoongi threw his head back, your name a desperate whine.
“Please, shit, I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck…”
Slowly Yoongi’s head rolled back and you took the chance to slide your tongue out, hands coming up to cup his balls, licking them in playful figure-eights with his entire length crammed down your throat, barely able to breathe.
You didn’t care.
Yoongi was in literal heaven.
Swearing, gasping, moaning, enjoying it for a good twenty seconds before fitting his right hand behind your head, tangled in your wet hair.
“Hold me,” he gritted out. “Hold me so I can fuck your face.”
You backed up a little to take a deep lungful of air, placing your hands on his hips. There was so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that you didn’t even notice that your knees were screaming in pain, completely focused on getting your throat ready for Yoongi’s abuse.
Your eyes flickered up to him, giving him the signal.
Yoongi grinned and began to thrust into your mouth. You adjusted your neck a little and Yoongi hissed, the throbbing head of his cock now rubbing against the roof of your mouth with every slide down your throat, rolling his hips into your face. You could tell he wanted to keep it slow, but his body craved the speed and he finally gave in, fucking your face mercilessly, fast and rough, nearly choking you but not quite, and that was the best part, Yoongi always knowing the edge, always knowing how much you could take, chuckling darkly as your moaned around his cock, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.
“It’s okay, do it,” Yoongi nudged, devilish edge to his voice. “Do it. No one is going to look there.”
Eye contact.
You sure?
He ticked a brow.
How many people were going to look at his ass? Eh, he was right.
You sank your nails into his hips and dragged them down, creating red scratches around his crotch.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped with your name, urging you for more, you clawing at his ass as he forced himself between your tight lips, marking him up, praying no one was going to ask why his ass looked like a cat’s scratching post, but it was doomed, your cries vibrating his cock, Yoongi losing control, lustful shudder as his cock jolted in your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed greedily, puffing breath around his thick length, sucking a little so you could feel every quiver, his taste strong and salty, so delicious that your pussy pulsated with satisfaction even through it wasn’t being stimulated.
You felt Yoongi caress your wet hair, soft praises floating down to your ears. You licked him delicately, ghosting your tongue around and around the head. He shivered, exhaling hard.
“Such a good girl, taking me so well…”
You felt his cock soften. You did what any sensible human would do and took him all the way in your mouth to bounce his balls with your tongue.
Yoongi chuckled.
“You’re crazy.”
You gave him your gurgled response with his dick still down your throat.
“You’re right, I do love it.” He tapped your cheek. “But the water’s getting cold, so let’s finish this shower and get into bed.”
-
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?”
“What happened to my ripped panties?”
“From last time? Don’t know. Jungkook had them in his pocket.”
You frowned, working product through your wet hair. “I hope he threw them away safely.”
Yoongi looked thoughtful. “Ah, is that what he snuck over to Jimin’s room for?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “It would be a good cover.”
You gawked at him.
Yoongi didn’t elaborate, going back to daintily and dutifully applying his skincare.
-
Get into bed.
This wasn’t exactly what you thought Yoongi meant, but you weren’t mad at it.
“Fuck, that’s so insanely hot…”
You were kneeling on the bed, chin on the pillows, knees spread, hands on your ass cheeks to spread your pussy open so your boyfriend Min Yoongi could watch you flex your wet opening.
At least he gave you time to blow-dry your hair before ordering you around.
For the moment, you were staring at the headboard, keenly concentrating on the exact precision and force needed to open and close with varying degrees. Most of the time, there was no need to be this focused, but Yoongi had asked for a show, so you were going to give him one. You could hear him slowly stroking himself, panting with exertion and awe. The bed sank a little as his weight was added, coming up behind you. Anticipation zipped through your veins, heartbeat spiking.
“A-ah!”
You felt a cold, fine spray on your ass and back. The fuck? Then the scent hit you, sudden citrus mixed with a verdant musk and the base of pine wood. On your skin, it immediately morphed, turning warmer, almost smokier, different than how it smelled on Yoongi. You twisted your head around, giving Yoongi’s smirking face a startled look.
“Did you just spray me with your cologne?”
He tucked his tongue between his neat white teeth. “No.” Which obviously meant yes.
You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might figure it out.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow underneath his fluffy black bangs. “I’m sure many people buy and wear my cologne, including women. Can’t keep anything a secret these days.”
There was a twinge of arrogance and wistfulness in his deep voice, but before you could break it down and ask, what about me, Yoongi leaned in and shoved his tongue into your pussy.
“F-fuck, Yoongi!”
His satisfied groan trembled through your nerves, igniting arousal and causing you to clench around his tongue involuntarily. He didn’t have to say it, both of you already thinking it, keep going, but now you were gasping, getting wetter and wetter with the addition of Yoongi’s tongue lazily sliding up and down as your muscles contracted and relaxed, letting him feel your skill and power, his moans vibrating through you from your core. It was already slick and getting slicker, Yoongi’s tongue gracefully sliding through your folds, thrusting into your hole, your juices like honey seeping onto his greedy mouth, so fucking good you didn’t need to control it anymore, it was just happening, and it took everything in you not to shove your ass into his face even though you wanted to, because you didn’t want to make any sudden movements and accidentally hurt him when he had already worked so hard today.
Yoongi chuckled.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, knowing he could see the strain in your arms and the tremble of your hips trying to keep your position as he sucked on your clit.
He removed his mouth and you grumbled in disappointment, cutting yourself off when you heard the distinct rip of a foil packet.
“No, fuck you.”
Yoongi said it as if he was telling someone the time and not about to forcefully plunge his dick right into where his mouth was a second ago.
“Ah, fuck yes, Yoongi…”
He sank right in, stretching you out deliciously, sighing as your wet walls molded around his cock, familiar and wonderful. You finally had the chance to remove your hands from your ass so you could hold yourself up, relieving some of the pressure on your poor knees.
“I’m choosing to ignore your disrespect,” Yoongi purred, placing his hands on your hips and bottoming out, his balls smacking your engorged clit roughly, earning a low hiss from your throat. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, breathing hard as your body adjusted. He was asking you how you wanted it. You clicked your tongue and turned your head back, seeing him watching you closely under his black hair shadowing his dark brown eyes.
“What a nice guy,” you remarked in a cool, defiant tone, borderline bored.
Come on, Yoongi, mess me up.
His lips curved into that devious, open-mouthed smirk you loved so much.
“Mhm.”
He slid out and slapped his crotch into your ass, hard.
“Yes, Yoongi, fuck!”
Your nails sank into your palms and you shoved your fists into the sheets, locking your upper body so you could push back into his rough thrusts, pleased grin on your lips, his perfect cock filling you over and over again, core tensed tight to feel all of him, the thick head forcing its way deep inside slick velvet, the rock-hard length twitching against each ridge, his balls bouncing against your inflamed clit, so full, so good, so intense that it almost hurt.
It wasn’t enough.
Panting hard, chest shuddering, you reached up and planted a hand flat against the headboard and clenched your jaw, bucking back into Yoongi’s crotch. His voice was mind-numbingly deep, full of desire and danger.
“Harder it is, my love.”
You smirked, then gasped as you felt the hot sting of Yoongi’s palm on your ass, the sound reverting against the apartment walls. He didn’t stop, fucking you hard into the bed and slapping your ass as you kept up with his pace, doing half the work for him so he could focus on each sharp spank to make your ass bounce on his cock, the bed screaming for you two to stop, but neither of you noticed, completely focused on chasing wild, feral pleasure, Yoongi growling your name and you moaning at his carnal tone, soaking his skin with thick, sweet-smelling juices, pussy violently massaging his length.
“That’s it,” Yoongi hissed, breathing rapid and shallow, ceasing his slapping of your red ass to seize your hips and fuck you even harder, digging his nails into your skin and marking you with his lust. “Feels so good fucking this perfect body just the way I like.”
Fuck, his voice, taking your heart and setting your world into lustful wildfire, no one like him, nothing like this, making you lose your mind and fuck back against him harder, the roller coaster climbing higher and higher and higher, Yoongi cursing under his breath, and you were so far gone that you almost didn’t pick up his words.
“Shit, Jungkookie would have loved watching you get wrecked by me.”
A low moan ripped from your throat, the thought of Jungkook’s needy voice and expression seeing you get pounded by Yoongi’s full strength, being told to watch and probably not being able to help touching himself, fuck, you wanted it, wanted Jungkook so bad at that very moment, wanted to show him how ruined you were, knowing he would love it, crave it, desire it, fuck, it was too much and you came hard, seeing stars, planets, fuck it, the whole fucking galaxy, fingernails curling into the headboard and whining at the sensitivity, body rolling onto Yoongi’s cock and squeezing it powerfully. Yoongi gasped out your name, grip tightening as he spilled into the condom, his length pulsating and twitching into your walls. You thought that was it, but Yoongi’s fingers snaked down between your legs.
“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck!”
He roughly rubbed your aching clit with two fingers, forcing you to cum again around his cock, moaning loudly with every convulsion of your overstimulated pussy, viscous juices clinging to the insides of your joined thighs, completely defeating the purpose of the fucking shower, but neither of you seemed to remember that, Yoongi too busy using his last ounce of strength to push you to your limit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and vibrating his fingertips against it, your eyes rolling back and spine clattering as another orgasm blasted through you, up your torso and straight to your head, numbing pleasure overtaking everything, arm going slack and forgetting to hold yourself up, hand slipping on the headboard, fatigue finally having its way.
Yoongi was quick to slide his hand up your belly and keep you up, wiry strength of his right arm balancing between your breasts to prevent you from falling into the bed.
“Holy f-fuck…”
The words sounded far away even though they were yours, the resounding beat in your ears being your pulse trying to catch up, nerves tingling all over, acutely aware of the tiny flinches gliding across your skin, aftershocks of a particularly explosive orgasm. Your pussy was still throbbing around Yoongi’s spent cock, locking him in your embrace. You planted your hands onto the bed and lifted yourself up rather shakily, taking the burden off Yoongi’s arm.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked, caressing the underside of your breast lightly.
You had the energy to raise one hand and give him a thumbs-up.
He rapped your ribcage. “Stop that.”
You chuckled, finding your voice a bit hoarse. “Why? You always do it in pictures.”
You heard Yoongi mumble disapprovingly behind you. “Is that why you do that? To make fun of me when I take photos?”
“Almost eight years of being an idol and you still don’t know what to do with your hands in pictures,” you teased.
He pinched your nipples roughly and you yelped.
“I know what to do with my hands around you,” Yoongi growled, rubbing them between his fingertips, your moans radiating off his walls. “And that’s what matters.”
-
interlude 20210419 drabble — “This is not allowed, you two.”
part vi “Shh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”
--
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508 notes · View notes
cinebration · 3 years
Text
Prophetic Fucking Visions (Alfie Solomons x Reader) [One-shot]
Prompt: “Am I not good enough?” / “I’m not good enough.”
For @writeroutoftime​! I had so much fun writing this! I was nervous, because I love Alfie so much and felt I couldn’t write him, but here we are. I hope you like it!
Warnings: blood and guts, seagull death
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Gif Source: cillianmurphyss
You first met Alfie on the shore, though you were in the sand and he was above you on the bluff. A gunshot exploded above your head.
Curses spewed out of you as you ducked, your heart pounding in your chest. A seagull went down in a puff of feathers, blood splattering onto your hair.
You swore loudly.
Alfie’s grizzled face peered over the bluff, eyes squinting down at you. “Fuck me, that’s a woman.”
Shading your eyes against the sun, you glared up at him. “What gave it away?”
“Not your fuckin’ sailor’s mouth,” he boomed at you.
If only I had a sailor’s fist, I’d knock you down, you thought.
“Sorry, love, didn’t mean for all that shit on ya. Come on up and get yourself cleaned up.”
You hesitated. You didn’t know him, and he still had the pistol in his hand. “I’ll manage,” you called up.
“Fuck me, you want me to throw down a rag instead?”
It was better than walking back into town with seagull oozing down your face. “If you please.”
“Awright,” Alfie croaked, disappearing.
After five minutes of waiting, the sun starting to beat down on you, you decided the rag wasn’t worth waiting for. You resumed your walk across the beach.
“Woman!”
You stopped in your tracks and turned toward the voice. Alfie lumbered across the sand toward you, a small towel clutched in one broad hand. You stared at him. The man seemed to be a bear, shoulders slightly hunched as he made his way to you.
The horrid scar on the left side of his face and the milky blue eye drew your attention last. The other eye searched your face as he at last stopped before you and extended the cloth.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, taking it from him and roughing it over your hair.
“Not seen you around these parts, Sailor Mouth.”
You arched your eyebrows. “Sailor Mouth?”
“Got nothin’ else to call you ’til you give me your name.”
“And what would I call you?”
“The Wandering Jew.”
Your eyebrows arched higher, but you kept quiet. Raking the towel over your hair and ears one last time, you asked, “Did I get it all?”
Lips pressing together, he surveyed your head. Taking the towel from your hand, he swiped it along your forehead and then down the back of your neck, wiping away the last of the gunk. He grunted his approval.
“Thank you,” you repeated.
“For getting seagull guts all over you? That’s bad luck, that is.”
A rueful chuckle slipped past your lips. “Call me Bad Luck Sailor Mouth.”
Alfie’s good eye glimmered.
~~
“I do the odd thing here and there. Nothing too respectable,” you said with a laugh.
Alfie walked alongside you on the beach. You had chanced upon him a week after the seagull incident. He had struck up a friendly, albeit strange conversation with you before you had been forced to return back to town.
This was the fourth such meeting. It seemed he had been waiting for you this time. You only walked the beach once a week, not always on the same day, so he must have waited each day to see if you’d walk by.
“I used to make bread,” he said. “It isn’t too respectable neither.”
“Well, I’m sure real bakers would abhor liquid bread.”
He looked at you sharply.
“Your reputation precedes you,” you informed him. “It seems you’re a god down in Camden Town.”
He grunted. “I was resurrected.”
“And I was swallowed into the whale’s belly.”
He laughed. “That where you got your sailor’s mouth, is it?”
“More like my bad luck.”
He looked at you with that unblinking stare of his. It disconcerted you less and less the more you saw it. He seemed to be fixing it on you more frequently, though you couldn’t understand why. You felt scrutinized, a not altogether unpleasant feeling from him.
“You eat?” he asked.
“What, whales? That’s not how I got out of that mess.”
His eyes gleamed wickedly in the setting sun. “Dinner.”
“Sure, if you have whale to spare.”
“No whale, I fuckin’ hate fish.”
“I suppose that’s alright. It’d just taste like bad luck.”
Alfie lumbered off in the direction of his home. You managed to keep pace with him, his stride long but unhurried. A light breeze blew off the sea, tickling your cheeks with sea spray even at a distance. Ominous clouds gathered on the horizon, the distant breakers foaming white as the wind whipped them into a frenzy.
Alfie refused to let you help in the kitchen. You followed him into it anyway, watched him work. He had put a chicken in his oven earlier. You gathered he had hoped to have you over for dinner—had probably prepared a special meal every day until you arrived.
“On occasion,” he informed you, “I did make real bread.” He set a basket full of it before you.
You plucked off a small roll and began to eat it as you waited for him to finish roasting some vegetables. “A chicken, huh?”
“The seagull I shot didn’t keep. It was a stringy bastard.”
You laughed, the sound filling the space over the sizzle of the stove.
You enjoyed every bite of dinner. Alfie watched you with interest as you ate your fill.
“What’s a woman like you doin’ here in Margate? Why aren’t you in London or someplace?”
“Too big and noisy.” You shrugged. “Nobody gets seagull in my hair or shoots at boats for fun. I guess they only do that to people.”
“Ah, well, I’ve done that. Shot people.”
You lifted your head to see him staring at you. “For business or…?”
He leaned back in his chair, appraising you. “A bit of both.”
You nodded and resumed eating. Your inquiries about him after your first meeting had told you that much about him.
Dessert was succulent fruit. Alfie had fallen into silence, not quite brooding but definitely pensive. He directed you into the living room, the open balcony doors overlooking the ocean. The storm approached, a mild rain beginning to fall.
It reminded you of the rainy days of your childhood. Your mother would stoke the hearth fire and spin yarns to while away the hours.
The weather and Alfie’s unusually subdued demeanor pulled you down into a somber mood.
“My mother told me a story once,” you murmured, “one I’ve never forgotten. It goes like this. A young man meets a beautiful woman—the woman of his dreams, he thinks—who always treats him well but never responds to his advances. He watches her from afar, watching as other men try to woo her. She treats them coldly. He thinks to himself, ‘She must love me. She treats me better than them.’ But try as he might, with flowers and sweets and pretty words, he can’t get her to acknowledge her feelings.
“So one day, he asks, desperate, ‘Am I not good enough?’ And she says, ‘I’m not good enough. I’d make a poor wife. I’ll never be the woman in your dreams.’ He protests, but she tells him, ‘I have a temper, and I speak my mind. I wake ill-humored and have days where it feels like the whole sky is gray and nothing can lift it. My smile is fake, and I hate this place.’
“He realizes with a broken heart that she is not the woman he believed her to be, and he leaves her.”
Silence descended on you both.
“I hate that story,” you hissed quietly. “It doesn’t tell you that he drinks too much and stays out late, that he would make an equally poor husband. He isn’t the man of her dreams either. Neither is enough alone, but together, they can be.”
Alfie shifted in his seat. The creak of his chair drew your attention. A deep furrow scored his brow. “Dreams, yeah?” The tension in his voice sent a shiver through you.
“Yeah,” you echoed.
“I’ve been having these dreams lately, see. They’ve got this woman in it, yeah, but I can’t see her face. She could be anyone. In these dreams, she asks me a question, right? And I know in that moment she will be my death.” He looked at you, unblinking. “You’ve got a question for me, yeah?”
You met his gaze. It was the question you hadn’t asked when he had introduced himself. “What did you do to condemn yourself to be the wandering Jew?”
He stilled. The waves crashed on the shore beyond the window, seagulls shrieking overhead.
“Yeah.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “That’s it.”
“Any woman could’ve asked that.”
“They would’ve asked, ‘Why do you call yourself that? What’s it mean?’ But you know what it means, so you asked the right question.”
“How will I be your death, then?”
“Fuck if I know.”
Thunder pealed, shaking the windows.
“Should I leave?”
“Did I say that? I came to Margate to fucking die, yeah? I’d rather someone love me to death than this fucking cancer.”
You swallowed thickly. “I’m not the woman of your dreams.”
“You’re right,” he growled. “I don’t have dreams. I have prophetic fucking visions. So are ya gonna fuckin’ kiss me or wot, Sailor Mouth?”
“You bet your fucking ass I am.”
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kpopxx · 3 years
Text
Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems
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Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader
4579 words
Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic​, @nsfwtwicecatcher​, @nsfwflint​, and @ggidolsmuts​ in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work. 
One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.
As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!
***
“Coming up on the target now.” 
“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.
“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.
You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.
“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.
“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.
You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.
“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.
“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”
“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you. 
As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.
A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…
You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out. 
Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.
“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”
“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”
“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa. 
“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”
You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.
You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.
It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.
You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up. 
Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.
You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.
As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.
“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments. 
“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”
“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”
Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.
“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.
“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.
“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”
Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl. 
Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.
“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.
You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it. 
Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.
You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.
Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.
“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.
“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”
“Shut up and suck my cock.”
Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.
For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.
“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?
“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”
“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.
“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”
“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was. 
You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.
Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.
“I don’t have all night.”
More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is. 
“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.
You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.
With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.
As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.
You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.
“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.
Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.
You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.
Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.
Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.
“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.
Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.
You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.
“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”
“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”
Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.
“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”
Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.
Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.
Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.
“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”
“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.
“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.
“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.
After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.
“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”
You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night. 
After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.
“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.
“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”
“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”
There was no command in the world easier to follow.
Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.
“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”
“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”
A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.
And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.
“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”
Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.
“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.
“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.
“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.
“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”
“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”
“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”
***
A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.
You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear. 
“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”
“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”
“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”
“You did WHAT?!”
442 notes · View notes
fvrxdrm · 3 years
Note
Hey do you still do requests for Leon Kennedy Re2? I was gonna ask about an NSFW but a little rendezvous to a hotel or something, thank you for reading this
Resting? What the Fuck is That??? (Leon Kennedy x Reader)
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Pairing: RE2make!Leon x F!reader
Warning(s): NSFW
+++++++++++++++++
      “Y/N!”
      A leather-gloved hand clasped onto your wrist as Leon pulled you into the darkened lobby of a hotel you both agreed to meet up at after getting separated. The force he inserted made you stumble a bit but thank God it wasn’t enough to make you fall onto the ground that was painted with blood and grime or else... Yikes!
      The young man in front of you slammed the door shut with so much intensity that you were sure all of the undead that chased you down flew across the country before pulling a bookshelf to use it as a barricade while you rest up for a little while.
      “Man, that was close!” You exclaimed. Your heart was pounding so much and your lungs were burning and begging for air with all the running you’ve done that your upper body didn’t have a choice but to bend down and let your knees support your arms.
      “Yeah. Are you okay, though?” Leon asked as he took a few steps towards you and caressed your back with the hand that wasn’t holding Matilda. You held one of your own ones up as a signal for him to let you take a breather before doing anything else and replied to his question.
      “Yeah, just…just give me a second.”
      “It’s okay. That room right there is clear. We can rest up in there for a bit.”
      “You sure we’ll only rest in there?” You tilted your head towards his direction with a teasing smirk playing on your lips. You knew he was vanilla and you’d seen him blush a few times that night with all the cheesy and filthy lines you were bombarding him while finding a way to get out of the city and you enjoyed seeing him get all flustered so you decided to continue your mission of getting him all mushy and soft. What you didn’t expect though is for him to be prepared with a reply of his own.
      “I don’t know. We can do some other stuff if you want.” Leon said, sending a flirty wink towards you. His face read ‘ego’ as he saw how red your face had become, mentally patting himself on the shoulder as he finally gained a point after hours and hours of trying to come up with something to respond back with. “Come on. There’s a bed waiting for us in there.” And with that, he strutted towards the room he was talking about earlier, confidence blossoming all over him as your widened eyes stayed glued to the man who you unconsciously might’ve taught too much that night.
*****
      “Ugh! Finally, a bed.” You plopped down on the soft mattress of the king-sized bed that almost occupied the entire room and ended up looking like a starfish, the popcorn ceiling above you weirdly gaining your attention.
      “Scoot over. You’re not the only one needing some rest,” Leon said as he nudged your foot that was dangling over the edge of the furniture. You turned your head towards him, your eyes narrowing in a sly manner and your lips curling into a lopsided grin.
      “And if I say no?”
      “Then, suit yourself.” Leon walked over to where your legs were spread, donning an impish look of his own, before throwing himself on top of you, the sudden change of weight making you yelp and groan.
      “Ugh! Fuck!”
      “You asked for it,” he remarked, his voice sounding muffled as he let his face rest on your neck. It was getting hard to breathe the more Leon spent every second just laying on top of you and so, you tried your very best to push him off of you before you ran out of oxygen and die because of him.
      “Get off me, you psycho!” You grunted, still struggling to shove him away but Leon stood his ground and moved just a tad bit to get more comfy just laying on your stomach. “Bitch, if you don’t skidaddle-“
      “Okay, okay, I’ll get off. Geez.” Much to your relief, he finally got off of you and fell onto the right side of the bed, his hands lazily settling down on his vest-covered abdomen, while you tried to catch your breath for the umpteenth time that night.
      “Jesus… You almost killed me,” you breathed out as your palm placed itself on your chest where you could feel your own heartbeat pummeling so hard that you thought it was going to break through your ribs.
      “Well, I told you to scoot over.”
      “It was a joke, asshole.”
      “And?” Leon, who was enjoying himself a bit too much, looked over at you with the exact same smile he gave you earlier before torturing you with his lean muscles. You stared back at him, your eyelids getting closer to closing as you silently accepted his own staring contest before you eventually scoffed and withdrew your gaze away from him.
      “You’re the worst.” Your body flipped over to face the direction of the brown wooden door you both previously entered and tried to get some sleep, battling with the paranoia that had been trying to take over your system since the outbreak of some sort of virus occurred. But alas, you failed to defeat that inner demon of yours.
      “Can’t sleep?” Leon spoke after a few minutes of awkward silence. He mindlessly drew invisible shapes and patterns in the air out of boredom, turning the ceiling into a canvas filled with nothing but the imaginations of the boy. You were quiet for a minute, contemplating whether or not you were just going to ignore the rookie beside you and attempt on another round of ‘let’s-fuck-around-with-paranoia-and-fear-because-that’s-totally-healthy-and-normal’.
      Leon noticed your lack of response and looked over to your direction to see your form trembling in fear and trauma and this rang an emergency alarm inside of him.
      “Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong? Is it something that I said? Did I injure you?” He softly asked, his hand reaching over to your arm and comforting you in one of the ways he could. You finally turned around and faced him, baring your tears and vulnerability to the man who just saved you from getting bitten by a number of cannibalistic creatures…again. “Hey, you can talk to me, you know. And if this is about what I did earlier, I’m-“
      “No, I just…what if we don’t make it out of here? I mean, you saw what happened earlier. One of them could get us at any moment and-“
      “Hey, hey, we will make it out of here, alive, alright? We’ve gone this far tonight. What’s stopping us now?”
      “Leon-“
      “No, alright? We’re gonna make it through. As long as we stick together we’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?” He rested his leather-covered palm on your cheek, tenderly stroking your skin as his crystal blue eyes stared directly into your E/C ones.
      “I do, Leon, I really do. But…I’m the one I don’t trust…and I’m scared.” Recollections of what happened that past week since the upsurge happened flooded your brain; from when you were bitten to when Umbrella found intel on you and started chasing you down town. You were stuck hiding inside an abandoned apartment that had zombies lurking from one corner to another and it was good thing you were smart enough to plan tactics to sneak up on them without getting the attention of the undead while moving around to find stuff that could be useful to your survival.
      “Y/N, I’m just as scared as you are but we have to fight.”
      “Leon, you don’t understand.” Your eyes dripped with more tears, unmasking the façade you’d varnished yourself with as soon as the virus hit and when Leon saw this, he pulled against his chest and stroked your hair to make you feel more at ease. And it certainly did.
      Minutes had passed just calming down to the warmth your human duvet and shield had given off and your breathing had become a bit shallow than before. However, while Leon was doing his best to comfort you, your mind went towards the direction of ‘am-I-going-to-tell-Leon-the-truth-or-not’. If you told him the truth, he would either not believe you and kill you or leave you or believe you and maybe even help get you off the radar atleast until you escape the city and after a good amount of thinking time, you decided to tell him the truth because why not? He’s going to find out either way, anyway. And so, that you did.
      “Leon, I have to tell you something.” You pulled away from his grasp and stared right into his eyes where you could see the exhaustion and pain hiding beneath the not-so-convincing mask of courage and gentleness.
      “What is it?”
      “I…I um…”
      “Hey, it’s okay not tell me, alright? Maybe what’s bothering you is too personal.” Leon rubbed the exposed skin of your arm to assure you and you almost didn’t want to tell him because of how badly you wanted to stay right in his arms and enjoy the warmth he was blessing you with and just sleep right there but you had to. You didn’t want to lose his trust and feel like you set him up when he finds out later since the chance of that happening is higher if you didn’t tell him earlier.
      “Leon, I…I”
      “Y/N, I told you, you can-“
      “I’m bit”
      There, you said it. Now all you have to do is wait for Leon’s reaction while you tremble like a cat or something.
      He went silent for a few seconds, eyebrows crumpled together until words finally formed in his mouth. “What? When? And how are not turned yet?” His eyes roamed your body to look for any vital signs that you were bit and was turning into one of those…things…that were outside but couldn’t find any so he assumed that you were telling a sick and stupid joke.
      “I was bitten the day the outbreak started and…I don’t think I’m going to turn into one of them…ever.” Leon looked straight into your worrisome eyes again, bewilderment written all over him for the millionth time that night.
      “What? How? You saw what happened out there, I saw what happened out there, so how are you bitten and not turning? And also, I’m not seeing a single bite mark on you.” You took in a huge amount of air before releasing them to blend in with the cold and turned your left forearm upward so you could show Leon the damage you did five days after you almost became zombie chow. He took a closer look, getting as much visual details as possible to prove or deny that what you had was a bite mark. But as he further inspected the injury, he saw that it was not a bite mark but was actually a burn of some sort. “Y/N, what the fuck? This is a burn not a bite mark.”
“Yeah, I did that. Five days after I was bitten, I decided it would be a great idea to cover the bite by burning it.” You chuckled. “Stupid, I know.”
      “If you’re immune, then, why are you scared?”
       “Umbrella. I-it’s a pharmaceutical company that claimed responsible for the attack, I believe. And now, they’re after me, probably to make more of that trench coat and fedora bitch or something.” And with that, silence took over you again, giving Leon enough time to process the information he just got from you and scheme a plan for you two to get out of the city without running into any workers from said pharmaceutical company. But when you noticed how he was stressing himself out for you, you took his hand in yours and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead to snap him out of his trance. It was sweet how he cared about you so much, but you didn’t want him to forget about himself. And besides, you could take care of yourself. You would always have each other’s back, especially in a situation like this.
      “Somebody’s after me. I don’t know what they want but…I’ve been hiding from them these past few days.” At that point, Leon had become more concerned for your safety than before, making a mental note to not separate with you ever again.
"Who?"
      “Leon, you don’t have to think too much, okay? All I’m asking you to do is to never leave my side and I will never leave yours. We’re a team, remember?” The said man lifted his gaze from your feet and let his own eyes linger on your face for a minute until he suddenly felt the urge to touch your forehead with his and chuckled.
      “Funny how you’re the one telling me stuff like that now.”
      “Well, we need each other’s reassurance, don’t we?”
      “Yeah, we do.” Small smiles were drawn on both of your lips, taking in the beauty of the light you both found while finding ways to dodge the undead and get out of the city alive. The presence you provided was enough to contribute to the solace you were both begging the heavens above for since the two of you got involved into the mayhem unwillingly and you treasured that every step of the way, promising to never leave and forget about each other once you had escaped the ghost of a town called Raccoon City and none of you were planning on breaking that no matter how easy or hard it was. You saw each other as gifts and you thanked the other for giving them to you. Words may not be enough but actions are so you two decided to thank the other by showing the desire and feelings you had caught along the way.
      “Please…kiss me, Leon,” you whispered, the warmness in your breath tickling against his lips, therefore sending more jolts of lust and tingles down to his crotch.
      “Wouldn’t ever object to that.” And with that, Leon pressed his lips against yours.
      The kiss was slow and uncertain at first, testing the waters to see if the other would pull back and regret the decision they had made. But once a few minutes had passed and nobody was pulling back, your hands grabbed onto each other’s body and pulled to bring yourselves closer to the point where you were certain that you could feel even the smallest details that formed you two before Leon made himself comfortable on top of you without breaking the fiery hot kiss.
      You eventually felt the need to take in some air and so you pulled away and watched as Leon removed every single article of his police uniform, only straddling you with his boxers that were barely making his hardened length unseen by you.
      “Please, tell me you want this, too,” Leon pleaded, his palms resting on your sides.
      “I want you, Leon…so badly.” And that was enough for Leon to take all of your clothes except for your panties that were surely ruined by your own arousal and pressing his mouth back onto yours, exploring your slick cavern with his tongue and melding your saliva with his. Your hands work their way around his body, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect physique while his ventured over yours, exploring as much region of your body as he could.
      The way his lips painted your body felt so surreal but at the same time…natural. It was like he was writing a beautiful poem with your skin as his paper, an unspoken story worthy to be told. Who would’ve thought that such a wonderful tale could be made inside the horrors of your future past?
      Usually, when people read and write stories like these, all they could focus on were the fear and trauma that each character had endured throughout the book. It was very rare for us to focus on the bond and comfort that they had gained and most of them were poorly written and delivered. But Leon, he knew what he was telling. He was certain about his invisibly/visibly written confession to you and that showed on the way his gentle touches were affecting you.
      He held his length in his hand, slowly stroking to spread the pre-cum that dripped from his slit before entering inside your heat carefully, making sure not to let his own excitement take over him and end up hurting you, and moans were immediately released from your mouths.
      Leon took his time and let you adjust to his surprisingly huge size before slowly mimicking a backward and forward motion and he abruptly pressed his lips on yours to muffle both of your sounds to avoid attracting any unwanted guests.
      “Leon,” you whimpered as you took in the pleasure the man on top of you was giving you.
      “Fuck!” His movements started pick its pace, the urge to scream becoming a hard task to do as Leon repeatedly stroked the root of your clit and he was struggling himself at how tight and wet you were. You for sure knew that a puddle of your nectar was pooling on the mattress and the thought of someone who thought it was a great idea to come back here to investigate shit amused you so much that you would’ve laughed if Leon hadn’t rammed himself inside of you as his orgasm took control of his body, causing you to come closer to your peak. And with one last thrust, he released his seed inside of you while your warmth coated his cock, the delicious sensation causing you to arched your back and Leon to squeeze his eyes shut.
     Fuck, that was good!
     “Shit! I thought I was gonna die right there,” you panted. “I thought Officer Leon Kennedy was vanilla.”
      “Well, to be fair, with a body like yours? Who wouldn’t lose their innocence,” he slyly remarked, a snarky wink perfectly ending his cheesy sentence.
      “Sure, Leon. Come here.” You reached your arms up to wrapped them around his body that was coated with perspiration before pecking his lips once he had leaned down to your level.
      “Well, shall we get a move on?”
      “Lead the way, super cop.”
+++++++++++++++++
I did not intend this to be this long and I wrote this, like, in three days bc my laziness is really tempting XD. Hope you enjoyed this though.
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es-kay-zee · 3 years
Text
Fire Alarm pt 2 | Kim Seungmin x Reader
Warnings: Soft Dom!Seungmin, female reader, choking, sir kink, unprotected sex, swearing, slight overstimulation
Word count: 3.5k
__________________________
Finding his bed empty of you was not what Seungmin was expecting when he woke up the next morning. He wasn’t sure just what time you left, but he knew that more than just his bed felt empty without you there. His heart also felt hollow.
Seungmin’s internal emptiness worsened over the next few weeks as you did everything you could to avoid him. It had become a very rare occurrence for you to see him on your way to your room, but when it did happen, you would speed up, ignoring him as you passed. He would try calling out to you, wanting to question why you were being so distant. It wasn’t like you guys were especially close before you had sex with each other, but that didn’t mean your cold actions didn’t hurt Seungmin.
Most nights he lay in bed, wondering what happened. Wondering if there was something he said, or something he did during the course of that night that made you hate him before he would finally drift off into a restless sleep. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since you slept next to him.
On the other hand, you lay in bed each night wondering why you were being such a coward. Why you didn’t have the courage to walk up to Seungmin and tell him how you feel. You already had a small crush on him before, but that night really amplified your feelings. There was something about the way he smiled at you after the mind-blowing sex, something about the way he offered for you to stay, about the way he hugged you into his body in his sleep.
A part of you wishes that you’d stayed that morning. That you hadn’t snuck out at 5am. His arms around you made it more difficult for you to leave, so why did you?
You were scared.
Every single one of your past relationships, your past crushes, had all ended badly; had ended with you getting hurt. You didn’t want that to happen with Seungmin. So, you left. And decided that you would never speak to him again in the desperate hope that this attraction towards him would vanish. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. If anything, you were just left feeling hollow. Like something was missing.
You’d only really spoken to him a handful of times and slept with him the once, so why did you feel so lost without him? Why did you feel so empty?
God, you felt pathetic. Missing a boy that you knew very little about, other than that he makes your heart skip a few beats when you make eye contact with him. But there’s no way he feels the same towards you, right?
Still, no matter how much you missed him, no matter how much you wanted to talk to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to. You refused to have your heart broken by him telling you that he didn’t feel the same things towards you.
Seungmin had been getting restless these last few days. Wanting nothing more than to talk to you. It was really getting to him, to the point where he’d even skipped a couple classes in the hopes that he’d manage to speak to you. It wasn’t like he could focus during class anyway.
He knew it wasn’t healthy, missing you this much. Especially considering he didn’t know much about you. But what he did know from the few times he had talked to you in the past, was that you absolutely adore your family, and he knew that you lit up like the sun when talking about your passion for photography. But it was like there was something about you that drew him in, that made it so hard for him to be away from you.
That’s why he made a deal with himself; the next time he saw you, he’d make you stop and listen to him. Not in a way that would stop you from getting away if you truly wanted to, but every other time he’d tried it was mostly just him calling out your name to get your attention. This time he would try harder.
So, when he saw you walking towards your room one evening a few days later, he approached you.
“Y/n, wait up,” he says, getting closer to you.
You can hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears as he nears, nerves coursing through your veins. Speeding up your already hurried steps, you try to get away from him. But it doesn’t work. He catches up and, before you can even process how close he is, one of his hands reaches out to gently grab your arm.
He pulls you to a stop, but not turning you to face him. Not yet. You take a few deep breaths, a feeble attempt to calm yourself.
“Y/n, please talk to me.” Seungmin’s voice makes you flinch, your entire body on edge. You look up from the ground, seeing your room’s door not too far ahead of you. It wouldn’t take much effort to escape Seungmin’s soft grip and quickly reach the confines of your bedroom. But there’s a part of you that stops you, the part that yearns for Seungmin, the part that wanted to stay in his arms the morning you left. The part that wants to be in his arms all the time.
You take another deep breath, readying yourself to face him before you turn around.
“Okay,” you reply, voice quiet as your eyes lock with his. You can tell that he definitely wasn’t expecting to get this far, that he was entirely prepared for you to just walk away and continue to ignore him for the rest of your lives. But he’s pleasantly surprised at your response.
“Do you wanna come to my room to chat? Or we could go to your room, if that’s more comfortable for you,” he offers, releasing your arm and instead scratching the back of his neck.
“Uh, yeah, sure. We can go to my room,” you say, starting to lead the way to your room. Seungmin follows behind you quietly, the silence between you both somewhere between neutral and uncomfortable. It was impossible to ignore the tension between the two of you, and it only worsened when finally reaching and entering you room.
There was something so intimate about letting Seungmin into your bedroom. Letting him see something so personal, as if your bedroom were a gateway for him to see into the innermost workings of your soul. The figurines of your favourite anime characters, the various novels lining your small bookshelf, your various cameras lined up along your desk, every small detail that gives Seungmin a closer glimpse at the person you are, what makes you your own person. The posters on your walls, the small decorating details everywhere, they all make him fall for you even more.
Once the door is closed, the both of you take a seat on the bed. You rest your hands in your lap, twirling them around slowly in anticipation of the coming conversation. The silences between you both continues, neither of you wanting to be the one to break it.
“So…” you begin, the deafening quiet beginning to suffocate you. “What do you wanna talk about?”
You cringe at your own question, both you and Seungmin knowing full-well what the conversation will be about.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, getting right to the point.
“I haven’t.” It’s a lie and you both know it, and if he wasn’t already aware of the blatant untruth, then he would have been able to guess by the small crack in your voice.
“Please don’t lie to me, y/n. I just want to know why.”
“Seungmin, I-”
“Did I do something wrong?” he cuts you off, unable to hold back his burning question, and for the first time since entering your room, you look him in the eyes. And the look on his face hurts. His eyes are watery, on the verge of releasing the backed-up tears, and his lips are pulled into a small pout. He looks like it’s taking everything in him to not cry in front of you.
Instinctively, your hands reach out to grab his, your thumbs soothingly rubbing the backs of his hands.
“Hey, no, of course you didn’t do anything wrong, Seungmin,” you say, wanting nothing less than for him to cry.
Your hands on his surprises him, but he’s more focused on you saying his name. He’s caught up on the way it rolls so naturally off your tongue, absolutely in love with the sound.
“Then please tell me why you’re avoiding me. I really like you and I don’t want to lose you just because we slept together.”
His words leave you in shock. ‘I really like you’. Did you hear that right? He likes you?
Seungmin pauses, shocked that he said that aloud. How could he let it slip that he liked you? Now he’s just made a fool of himself.
“Y-you like me?”
Your voice is no higher than a whisper, not entirely sure that you heard him correctly.
“No- Wait- That’s not-, I-” he stutters, struggling to find a way to back-track.
“So, you don’t like me?” you cut him off again, the disappointment clear in the way your shoulders slouch slightly and pull away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort.
“What? No. That’s not what I mean. I do like you; I just didn’t mean to say it. I know you don’t feel the same way…” His voice trails off near the end, growing quieter and quieter with each word spoken.
He raises his head, his eyes meeting yours, and he looks ready to cry again.
A small giggle escapes your lips at the absurdity of the situation, finding it a bit funny that you both were under the impression that feelings weren’t mutual. Seungmin, however, misreads your laughter, instead believing that you were cruel enough to laugh at him for liking you.
“You don’t have to be so mean,” he says, and his words have your laughter dying down.
“No, no, no, no, no I’m not being mean, not at all.” The last few giggles leave you ask you speak.
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because I just find it so funny that we both like each other but neither of us were saying anything. I feel ridiculous for avoiding you.”
You watch Seungmin’s reaction as your words sink in, him slowly realising you’ve just admitted that you like him back.
“Wait, you like me?” he asks, repeating your earlier question back to you, wanting clarification before continuing anything.  
“I do,” you nod, and Seungmin brings one of his hands to cup your cheek.
Your skin burns under his touch, the contact has your heart racing even faster than it already was. You watch Seungmin swallow, his eyes switching back and forth between your own and your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
“Please do.”
And with that, his lips were pressing against yours. The kiss is sweeter than anything you’ve ever experienced, Seungmin trying his best to put all of his feelings forward, wanting you to feel how much he likes you. And you do. You can feel his emotions in the way his lips move slowly with yours, the way his hands cup your cheeks.
He pulls back after a while, leaning his forehead against yours.
“So, you’re telling me that I could have been kissing you sooner if I’d confessed that night?”
“Or if I didn’t avoid you like the plague,” you reply, giggling softly when he places a small kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Well then, I guess we have to make up for the lost time?” he whispers, eyes looking into yours. His question sounded innocent enough, but you could tell the underlying meaning. You move to straddle his lap, resting your hands on the back of his neck while his own hands move to your hips.
“I guess we do,” you reply.
You press your lips back to his in a deeper kiss than the last one, your fingers lacing through his hair and tugging slightly. He groans at the pull, his own hands beginning to roam along your sides, occasionally gripping your shirt in his fists.
The kiss deepens even further, and your hips uncontrollably begin to grind down against Seungmin’s. You both moan at the friction, and you can feel him grow hard under you. His fingers start to toy with the hem of your shirt, itching to remove the obstructing cloth.
You pulled back from him, lifting your shirt up and off by yourself before diving back into the kiss. His hands immediately resume exploring your skin, fingertips dancing along the skin of your back and sides. His touch leaves goosebumps in their wake and you almost find yourself already begging for more.
His hands find rest upon the clasp of your bra, once again wanting the clothing gone. He pauses the kiss, looking you in the eye to ask your permission.
“Can I?”
“Yes, sir.”
Your use of his desired nickname ignites something in him, and you quickly find yourself laying on your back upon your bed, bra removed and tossed to the other side of your room. His lips attach to the soft expanse of your throat, sucking dark hickies into the flesh. One of his hands massages your breast – while the other holds his weight – and his thumbs traces over your sensitive nipple, eliciting breathy moans from you. His lips move downwards, briefly tugging on your other bud before continuing lower. His kisses trail down your stomach until he reaches the top of your jeans. He pauses, looking at you for permission and he unbuttons them once he receives the affirmation, tugging the clothing down and off of you.
He groans at the sight in front of him; you, laying naked bar your underwear. His fingers immediately begin to run up and down your covered pussy, and you moan at the contact. Fuck, you’d missed this. You’d only experienced him once, but that didn’t mean you weren’t craving his touch the entire time you’d been avoiding him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Seungmin says, feeling your slick through your soaked underwear.
“O-only for you,” you reply as he removes your underwear as well, Seungmin now having an unobstructed view of your dripping folds.
You flinch slightly when his breath hits your core, and he has little hesitation in running his tongue up your entrance. Your hands shoot down, quickly tangling themselves in his soft hair as a way to ground yourself. At the sound of your quiet whines, Seungmin begins to truly dive in, sucking and nibbling at your clit.
Your hips buck upwards, trying to gain even more friction, but Seungmin is having none of that. One of his arms lays across your waist, pinning your hips down against the bed.
"Stay still." You immediately stop trying to move your hips, instead staying still while Seungmin continues to pleasure you.
He brings his free hand to your core, fingers prodding at your entrance before sliding a couple in and your back arches at the intrusion.
His fingers thrust in and out, biceps flexing with each move. Digits curling every now and then, pressing against the spot that has your knot tightening. His lips continue their assault against your clit, teeth gently grazing against the bud.
"S-Seungmin, I'm g-gonna-" you warn, but he's already well aware of how close you are, so he sucks extra harshly at your bundle of nerves to push you over the edge.
Your entire body shakes as you cum, legs twitching on either side of Seungmin's head and a loud moan tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers continue moving inside you, riding out your high, only pulling away once you come down.
He moves back up your body, colliding his lips with yours once again and letting you taste yourself. Seungmin moves away from you again, removing his clothes and settling back into his position above you.
He takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head up and down your slit. You whine, your impatience getting the better of you as you buck your hips up in an attempt to get him to enter you.
"Stop moving," he orders, hands moving to your hips, his grip tight enough to bruise.
Your submissiveness shows itself when you do as he says, stilling your movements immediately.
Please, sir," you beg, wanting little more than to have him deep inside you already.
Seungmin looks down at you, his eyes taking in your fucked out expression. He slowly begins pushing into you, and your breath hitches at the stretch. It's only when he's fully bottomed out that you try to calm your breathing again.
“Holy shit, I f-forgot how tight you are,” he says breathily, attempting to catch his own breath.
He remains still inside you, struggling to maintain his composure. But when you clench your walls around him in an attempt to get him to move, all sense of self-control is thrown out the window. His thrusts are swift and forceful, already bringing you towards the precipice of pleasure. Your panting is loud, throat dry at the constant flow of air. The knot in your stomach is coiling tight once more, but there’s still something missing.
“Please,” you say, barely able to speak through the dryness of your throat.
“Please what?” Seungmin asks, not entirely sure what you’re asking for.
“Please choke me.”
“Oh? Did my precious baby like getting choked last time?” He’s just teasing you now, but he still brings one of his hand to your throat, fingers wrapping around gently, applying only a little pressure. “Like this?”
You shake your head ‘no’ as much as you can, desperate for more.
“Harder.”
His grip on your throat tightens, much harsher than before. And it’s perfect; the way you can still breathe, but only just enough. Seungmin’s pace doesn’t slow, and you revel in the hushed moans that he can’t hold back, happy to know you’re the one making him feel so good. His free hand moves to your chest again, pinching one of your perked nipples, twisting and rolling the bud between his fingers. His skilled touch was giving you a new-found appreciation for his hands.
The knot tightens impossible tighter, threatening to snap at any moment, and Seungmin can tell. The was you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, the way your legs shake, and the whimpers that leave your delicate lips.
“Can I- C-can- please,” you babble, struggling to get your words out, but luckily, Seungmin could tell what you’re trying to ask. He leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you relentlessly.
“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”
His words are all you need to unravel, your back arching as you cum all over his cock. His hand leaves your chest, instead clamping over your mouth to silence your loud moans, him not sure if you wanted those in the neighbouring bedrooms to hear you. He doesn’t slow his thrusts, riding out your high and chasing his own pleasure. You whine as the overstimulation begins to set in once you’ve recovered from your second orgasm. The whines turn to whimpers as it slowly becomes too much, and he pulls his hand away from your throat.
“Almost there, y/n. You’re doing so well for me, yeah? So, so well,” he says, his hips beginning to stutter as he nears his own end. And it only takes a couple more thrusts for Seungmin to finish, painting your walls white. He slowly pulls out, checking you over to make sure you’re okay. He loves how you look right now, chest still heaving, throat and collarbones littered with dark hickies, cheeks flushed. You look beautiful. Seungmin can’t help the way his heart swells at the sight, absolutely adoring how you look.
He lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest and running his finger slowly through your hair. Even though he only got to do it once before, he truly missed holding you.
“So,” he begins, a smile on his face. “Does this mean you’ll go on an actual date with me?”
You look up at him, eyes sparkling with a joy that can’t be contained. “Of course it does.”
Seungmin can’t hide it as his smile grows impossibly wide, feeling so happy at the confirmation that he finally gets to go out with you. He hugs you tight as he peppers your face with kisses.
“How about, tomorrow night? We can put together a picnic and go cloud watching or something. We could chat for a while, get to know each other better. Fall in love.”
“That sounds perfect,” you giggle at his last statement, enjoying how happy he is.
You’re not sure if you and Seungmin are gonna end up in love, but who know. You could. For the moment, at least, you like each other. And whether or not this ends up with you both in love doesn’t matter. That’s for future thought. Right now, all that matters is that you finally have each other.
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y0itsbri · 3 years
Text
gallavich week 2021 - day 2 - fantasy au w/ inspo from this wonderful prompt list by @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings
You're Not Getting Cold Fins Now, Are Ya?
word count: 6.3k
(click on art for better quality)
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Mickey truly enjoyed being a fisherman. He liked the solitude that came with the job -- no one on his ass trying to tell him what to do or that what he's doing was wrong when it definitely wasn't. He was always a resourceful little bastard, and his confidence at sea was not unwarranted. He knew how to do shit, and how to do shit right -- crewmates be damned. Nothing but him and the water, just the way he liked it.
He often sold his fish at the market in the small coastal town where he and his sister, Mandy, reside. Her charisma luring customers to their stand, promising the best of the best -- and it wasn't even a lie anymore. Lately, Mickey's produce was the freshest and somehow the most beautiful, catching somewhat exotic fish with vibrant colors that none of the other fishermen were able to attract. Mandy had once trapped him in the corner, demanding answers to questions like how on earth he alone could come up with all this? She thought he was secretly a pirate, raiding other ships, stealing their best, and dumping the rest -- you can't fucking afford to go to jail again, dumbass! Time after time, he reassured her that it was just dumb fucking luck until she caved and let him go, not withholding a dubious glare. Despite what he told her, and even told himself, he was a bit suspicious. He was not a lucky man.
With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.
With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.
Mickey sat himself in the sand, reveling in the feeling of being on land again. As often as he flipped between land and sea, the difference never failed to startle him. He dragged his hands through the sand, feeling like some fancy exfoliator Mandy was always trying to get him to use. He was adamantly watching the colorful rocks bead through his fingertips. A larger stone caught in his palm. He held it up to the sun where it was peeking out from behind the clouds. At first glance, it looked like any other stone -- kind of a boring sea foam color, but in the sun, it sparkled like green embers. He rested the stone atop his knee and turned his attention to a bird squawking from the rocks. Noisy fucker. He furrowed his eyebrows wondering what could have happened for the bird to cause such a fuss. Stuck in his tangle of thoughts and oblivious to the world, a wave swept over him -- even above his overalls.
Mickey leapt up in surprise, "Motherfuck-!" In all his joust movements, he managed his lose the stone... and his dignity. He didn't have a spare change of clothes on his boat because it was supposed to be a short trip. He didn't plan on falling asleep and ending up on an island god-knows-where. So there he sat, pouting, in just his boxers and hat while he let the remainder of his clothes air dry with what little sun there was. He could've sworn he heard someone laughing at him -- giggling, even. He glared towards the squawking bird before determining it was his own paranoia. Mandy had him do all that therapy shit awhile back, so he knows how he can get sometimes and how it's a 'trauma response' or some bullshit that actually made a hell of a lot of sense now that he thought about it.
He pulled out an orange from the front pocket of his overalls, still half damp in the sand. He nibbled on it, tossing his peels as far into the tide as he could, watching it float... float... disappear. Whatever creature was down there must really fuckin' like oranges. It was quick, but exciting none-the-less. Mickey no longer felt sluggish like his impromptu nap that landed him on this island might have suggested. He felt alive.
The sun placement told him that it was time to head back if he had any chance of making it back to the coast before sundown. Fuck! His fish! He picked up his clothes and half-jogged half-stumbled back to his boat, expecting the fish he had caught earlier in the day to have gotten tainted by now. He shoved his legs into his mostly-dry overalls and waded out to his boat. To his surprise, the fish looked good -- almost better than when he caught them.
Now Mickey may not be the most observant, but even he knew something was a little suspicious (something a little fishy is going on here🤔). If he didn't know then, he definitely knew when he turned to see the green ember stone -- his stone -- resting on top of his ice box. The fuck? He picked up the stone, smoothing over it's edges with his thumb, leaving a sparkling trail where his fingers had just touched. So it wasn't just from the sunlight, interesting. He secured the rock inside the zipper pocket on his overalls, then double checking to make sure it was still there. Whatever force on his side might be into second chances, but he didn't want to test his new luck with third chances.
He really had to get going now. He gave the island a once over as he pulled out his map, subtly marking his new uncharted oasis. This was something else.
--
Since his initial discovery, Mickey had come back to the island several times, and all the more prepared. He kept spare clothes on him at all times now, in case the tide one again decided to have a personal vendetta against him and his overalls -- which of course it had. He also brought more beef jerky, tools, and a tent. He was determined to see more than just the coast the next time he returned.
He had told Mandy that he was going to stop at another port for the night so as not to wait up for him that evening, which wasn't unheard of. With the amount of overnight stays on his isolated island as of lately, however, Mandy thought he had a secret lover a few ports over, teasing and making kissy faces at him whenever she could. "Who is she, Mick? Oh, c'mon, I tell you about my hookups!" "Yeah, and I wish you fuckin' didn't." "Whatever, anyways, she's gotta have a name. Wait! Oh my god! He? Is it a guy? Mickey!" "Mandy, no." She could be annoying as hell when she wanted to, but she mostly knew when to stop.
As much as Mickey denied a secret lover, there was definitely a secret something, but he couldn't place his finger on exactly what it was. He knew there was like the red-ish, orange-ish glow that flickered beneath the surface of the water. And he knew there was feelings. Which sounded weird as hell -- even to himself. He should have just played along with Mandy's hookup in another port theory. Hell, he should find a hookup in another port. That would be a lot simpler than whatever this was. But he just couldn't get himself to stay away from this mystical island. His fish business was doing better than ever, so he had no real excuse to stay away.
He had managed to map out the geography and topography of the island after a few visits -- Mickey knew his shit. No one lived on this island. It looked like no one has ever lived on this island. It was a small, and it was beautiful, but he still couldn't find the source of whatever force drew him here -- at least when he was actively searching for it. He continued throwing his orange peels in the ocean to be devoured by his... friend? He tried to throw his apple cores in, but his creature was apparently not a fan. He didn't blame them, to be honest.
He began to talk to himself and even sing to himself more and more on the island. He thought he may have heard the laughter again, and even some off-key humming or whistles along to his tunes. Mickey didn't even care if it was the paranoia or if he was having some odd hallucination at this point. He just felt entirely too good.
--
Which is why he didn't see it coming. If he hadn't been so distracted by this siren-like callings, he would have noticed the storm coming. He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, damnit. He knew his shit! Which is why he knew that he could secure the boat as best as humanly possible, and it still wouldn't survive the storm surge unscathed. He hoped that whatever force looking out for him would look out for his boat. He said a quick prayer -- and he wasn't religious by any means -- as he double checked to make sure he had his 'lucky' stone, his backpack, and his map, then hiked inland where he knew there was a cave for shelter.
He had escaped the start of the downpour, but only barely. The dark clouds loomed overhead, chasing out any hopes of a light, easy rain. Mickey huddled against the inner wall of the cave, nibbling at one of his jerky strips, and cursing the lack of cell phone signal on this fucking island that doesn't even fucking exist according to any map he's ever fucking seen. To say he was having a bad day was an understatement. He couldn't do much but wait, and he quickly fell asleep to the pitter patter of the water dripping outside the cave.
He awoke to a sharp burning on his chest. The fuck?! His so-called 'lucky' stone was hot. And glowing. And so was most of the other rocks in the cave. Now this was definitely something. The stones obviously did not want him to stay still as they grew hotter and glowed brighter, but this time alternating and lighting up a path down a miniscule stream he hadn't noticed before. The storm had long stopped, and he hoped these bewitched stones would at least lead him to the shore so he can check on whatever remains of his boat.
Mickey followed the path to the shore, luckily, but more towards the rocks that he noticed on his first visit. He hardly saw the rocks now as he was drawn to a heap of familiar orange-ish red-ish laid up on shore. He fully expected it to disappear again so he refused to even blink, inching closer. It was alive -- for sure -- that was good, but it was battered from the storm. It looked scaley... but also had hair? It grunted and rolled over. Yup. That was a man. But also a fish.
Mickey thought his hallucination were playing entirely too many games on him now but he physically could not bring himself to turn away, as much as he swore he wanted to. He wanted out. He was insane. That was the only explanation, because obviously mermaids weren't real. He was sleeping, he had to be. He would wake up in his bed next door to Mandy's and all of this would go away. Hell, maybe the whole island was in his dreams. Maybe he was trapped in a very realistic coma. He looked around for something to wake him the fuck up when he heard the creature groan again.
Fuuuuuck, now Mickey was involved. The tide had pulled back far enough that left the creature stranded on the land. The stone grew hotter yet against his chest. "Alright, alright, I fuckin' got it, thank you," he grumbled. The creature turned it's startled head towards his. They locked eyes -- green embers. Of course.
"It's you, isn't it? All this time?" Mickey asked as the creature weakly tried to hide his face. Mickey didn't know why. It was a beautiful face, somehow covered in freckles that sparkled.
"Nah, man, it's cool, right? We've been having fun, eating oranges and shit?"
The creature unburied its head and quietly whistled one of Mickey's favorite songs, earning a chuckle out of Mickey as he awkwardly lifted the half-man half-fish in some semblance of a firefighter carry. Mickey expected the creature to be slick and cold, but he was soft and warm. Odd, but not unpleasant. They were almost to the water now.
"Yeah, Rain on Me by Ariana Grande and Lady Gaga. Fuckin' banger. Don't tell my fuckin' sister about this. She'd never let me live this down."
The red-headed creature tilted its head in confusion.
"Lady Gaga? Ya know, Mother Monster?"
He seemed to startle at the word 'monster' as he wiggled, escaping Mickey's grip into the water, disappearing into the dark sea. Frowning, in a last attempt at communication.
Mickey wasn't having it. Nah. The creature had been luring him for weeks. Hanging out with him for weeks. Even called out to him with some fuckin' moon stone type things. And now it wanted to disappear? He didn't fucking get it. He kept talking to himself as he paced along the shore.
"You're not getting cold fins now, are you?" Mickey teased, "Wait, fuck, is that offensive? Fuck, I'm sorry, please just come back."
He was acting fucking pathetic. He buried his face in his hands. Fuck. His brain was fucked. His life was fucked. His boat was fucked. His boat.
Mickey nearly tripped as he stumbled back to his boat. Or more like where he docked his boat. All that remained was his anchor. The rest had been mangled and scattered along the shore. He could probably get it fixed eventually since he had the little foresight to keep his tools safe in his backpack. But until then, he was stuck on an island, that apparently didn't exist, with a companion, who apparently didn't want to be perceived, and a dwindling supply of beef jerky. Great.
--
It had been a depressing night. Without Mandy's overenthusiastic presence or his new friend's feel-good aura, Mickey was especially pessimistic. He hardly got any sleep, his brain racking all the ways he could possibly fix his boat. Mickey Milkovich knew his shit, but he was beginning to feel a little doomed. He took out his 'unlucky' stone from it's secure pocket, fidgeting with it like he does when he's nervous. The thing was cold (one could say it was stone cold😎).
Feeling hopeless, he stormed back to the shore, tossing his last orange into the water, intent on yelling at the water until he died a peaceful death.
"C'mon, man," his voice came out sounding more like pleading than yelling, but what can you do? "I don't give a fuck if you're a man or a fish. I need you to help me fix my fucking boat! You got me into this mess, you get me out of it!"
He collapsed in the moonlight. He was absolutely not on the verge of crying. He was focusing on his breathing so intently that he barely heard his voice.
Holy fuck, though. He finally got why the legends always referred to mermaids as sirens. He would follow this voice anywhere. It was as disturbing as it was comforting.
Mickey was knocked out of his trance as his previously-tossed orange rolled to a stop at his feet.
"I said, I'm sorry." The siren's red hair poked out of the ocean several feet in front of him. Mickey continued to stare. How the fuck did this motherfucker's freckles glow brighter than the stars in the sky above them?
"I never meant to cause you harm. Swear. I even brought you the best fish I could find. My family lectured me about cannibalism or some shit, but I just wanted any excuse to see you again."
Mickey stared in awe. The creature's voice ringing through his ears prettier than any choir he had ever heard. He had got to get himself together. He was supposed to be mad. Right!
"What about my fuckin' boat? You realize I actually have to leave this place eventually, right, Red?" Maybe Mickey was being a bit harsh considering he was basically in the middle of some magical doomsday. But he was still ridiculously frustrated at his current situation.
"Hmm," the creature considered, "my name is Ian." Ian. Ian. Ian. The name chimed through his head. "And I was thinking about your boat. I tried to save it before it was too late, but I ended up too close to the shore, and the tide was ridiculous, and hence I got stranded and we got off to the wrong... fin." Ian gave Mickey a dumbass smirk, clearly proud of himself.
Okay, it did ease the tension, Mickey would give him that. Mickey was silent for a bit too long again.
"And what is your name?" Ian mused, "I've got to stop calling you That-One-Hot-Fisherman in my head."
Mickey nearly choked, and tried to cover it up by rubbing his hand against his lips, "Mikhailo." He had no idea why he was compelled to share his real name. He hadn't used that name in years -- only liking it from the sound of his mother's mouth. He corrected himself, "Well, it's Mickey. That's what I go by."
"Okay, well, Mickey Mikhailo, shall we get started on rebuilding your boat now or do you want to wait until morning?" Ian looked both devious and sincere. It was maddeningly confusing.
If Mickey swooned at the way a fucking fish said his name, that was nobody's business. But he couldn't deny he was exhausted. His stone was warm against his chest, comfortingly so, not hot like before. He managed to mumbled out a "in the morning" before falling into the peaceful sleep he had been so desperately craving.
--
Mickey awoke to sunshine in his face and a bird pecking at his thigh -- the pocket where his final jerky stick remained.
"Fuck off you fucking fuck!" He shooed haphazardly while rubbing fucking literal sand out of his eyes. God, what a nightmare.
"I see someone's not a morning person," teased an orange blob from the water. Mickey rubbed his eyes again. Right. Ian.
"Fuck off, fish genius over there."
"That's not any way to treat your only chance of getting off the island anytime soon," Ian pouted.
Fish genius had a point.
"Sorry," Mickey grumbled. He was never one for apologies, but man did he need to stay on this creature's good side. But, he was all good sides as far as Mickey was concerned. In the daylight, he could see how Ian's orange hair curled into little rings when it air dried. It looked real fuckin' soft. He couldn't remember if he had the chance to touch it yesterday on their fucking rescue mission. He needed to distract himself before he said something he regretted. He was not about to be flirting with a fish. He wasn't!
"Ya got any more oranges you can toss my way? Fuckin' starving."
Ian pointed at the one sandy orange a few feet from where Mickey had slept, "Just yours that you tried to hit me with, thank you very much."
"You like the peels, though." Mickey said as he tossed a piece into the ocean, floating several yards away from where Ian's head bobbed out of the water.
That took Ian aback, "Damn, I thought I was slicker than that."
"Not that slick, man."
"Hmm." Ian briefly considered before speeding over to the peel and devouring it quickly, "I can get you some sea food -- as your people say."
"Ain't that basically illegal for you, Red? Ain't you technically sea food?" Mickey musing, tossing another piece of his orange peel into the water.
Ian rolled his eyes. "I-an." He sounded it out slowly. "But I mean, circle of life and all that." He chased the orange peel, twisting it in his fingertips, awaiting Mickey's response.
"Nah, it's cool, don't worry about it, I-an. I don't really want any part in your whole fucked up moral dilemma situation. Got enough of those myself."
Mickey avoided Ian's attempt at eye contact, and Ian didn't push the conversation any further. He seemed tentative again. Mickey didn't want to lose him again.
"So... boat stuff?" Mickey huffed as he stood up, turning to his mangled beauty.
"Yeah," Ian did that dumbass smirk again that had Mickey fucking blushing, "Boat stuff."
--
Ian explained that he had spent most of the night gathering the parts that he could find in the water, and even some special mud and sea weed looking things that he promised would hold it together if Mickey's tools couldn't. Mickey took offense to the lack of faith Ian had in his skills, but he eventually agreed that it was at least somewhat warranted given their current predicament.
Mickey spent the morning gathering boat parts from land, and by midday, he felt hopeful. It was a 'finding treasure in the trash' kind of moment, but it was enough for now.
Ian and Mickey had fell into idle conversations as Mickey worked to restore his boat and Ian gazed onward, bobbing in the waves.
"So, you have a sister named Mandy?" Ian asked after a slice of silent had washed over them.
"What, are you a psychic, too?" Mickey laughed nervously under his breath.
Ian rolled his eyes like that was the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "No, smartass, I'm a good listener." He paused. "You talk about her a lot."
"Wasn't sure if you were real or if I was crazy." Was all Mickey managed to respond. Ian was really more of the conversation carrier and neither of them seemed to mind.
"Do you have any other family or friends?" Ian wondered, this time genuinely curious.
"Considering I'm talking to you right now, what do you think?"
Ian silently stared at Mickey until his watch became uncomfortable and Mickey felt the urge to continue.
"Mandy's the only one that sticks around. She actually cares about me -- fixes me dinner, drags me out to meet her friends, even makes sure I get enough sleep -- she's fuckin' crazy."
"It sounds like she loves you."
"Yeah. Dunno why."
"You're a good person, Mickey."
Mickey flashed Ian his knuckles reading 'FUCK U-UP' in faded black ink. "Yeah, I'm a real stand-up guy."
"No, I mean it." And Ian just looked so genuine that all Mickey could do was believe it for once in his goddamn life. All it took was for a fish to tell him. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.
"What's your social circle look like? Couple of dolphins, maybe a crab?"
"Maybe," Ian confessed. Shit, maybe this was some real life Little Mermaid. "But I also have five siblings."
"Y'all all got bright-ass fins? Or is that just you?" Mickey still couldn't believe this was his reality right now, but shit, might as well hear about all of Ariel's siblings.
"My little sister, Debbie, she's orange like me. My mom had a theory that our colors are reflective of like our auras or something. She was always hanging around this old-as-balls sea turtle spouting off whatever nonsense he remembered. Some of it makes sense, though. My oldest sister, Fiona, is purple. Then there's my brothers -- Lip is blue, Carl is green, and Liam is yellow."
"Mandy has black hair like me. But she has a nose piercing, and I ain't getting one of those anytime soon."
Ian smiled that Mickey was even trying to draw some sort of semblance between their drastically different worlds. But it felt so natural, Mickey couldn't help it.
Mickey felt his lucky stone grow warm, again. Ian wasn't in any trouble, though. He was literally right fuckin' here. And he was happy. Mickey was happy, too.
--
By nightfall, they had called it quits. Mickey had ended up using some of Ian's 'special' tools, earning a fair amount of teasing from Ian himself. Whatever. The red-head had been protecting him so far. He trusted him -- even if that thought was terrifying. The mud would dry in the moonlight, and Ian assured Mickey that he would be set by morning.
Mickey was fucking hungry after a long day's work. It was high tide and Ian had something different in mind.
"Now that we're talking," Ian started. "I've been wanting to show you this."
Mickey waited for further instructions.
"Follow the stones, I'll meet you there, promise."
Mickey trusted the fucker despite his innate inability to trust anyone else, so he followed the stones into the thick of the forest. He knew the island. He had mapped the thing. He didn't know what Ian could possibly want to show him that he hadn't already seen.
The path stopped glowing near the bottom of a cliff. He knew about the cliff. But what he didn't know was that the cliff was a waterfall.
"Woah."
"Pretty cool, huh? Only happens with lots of rain."
Ian had prepared them a fish dinner set on another rocky edge, like the one on the other side of the island.
"Ian. You're a fish. This ain't right."
"First of all, I'm a mammal. Second, it's fine. They tell me when they're ready to die so I have a clear conscious as far as I'm concerned."
"Dude. I knew this was fucked up, but that is fucked up."
"Dude," Ian mocked him, "We're in the middle of the fucking ocean. Do you have any better ideas, or are you just gonna be all pissy? Least you can do is eat with me."
Mickey's jerky supply was officially gone. Fish genius had another point.
Mickey wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Ian's dinner was even better than Mandy's were.
--
Morning came and Mickey found himself not wanting to leave. Of course, he knew he had to, so he would.
"So, Red, I guess this is goodbye?"
"Only for now. You'll be back." Ian winked. Mickey knew he would.
"This is stupid, but like, you can't go back with me? Like, we make a pretty good team."
Mickey was visibly uncomfortable at his moment of vulnerability, and Ian took pity on him with a gentle smile. "Unless I want to get hunted, I'm better off here. It's safer."
"Right, right." That made sense. Mickey didn't even want to think about the possibility of Ian getting hurt. There had been rumors about mermaids in the area, but he had always assumed them to be tall tales. He knew enough of the fishermen were heavy drinkers and supposed that played a factor in their truth-telling.
"My mother is on land now, but she wouldn't choose to help me. Learned that the hard way."
Mickey frowned. He knew what it was like to have a parent that would trade you for literally anything else. But he was more curious about another part of Ian's story.
"What do you mean your mom is on land? Like she was captured or something?"
"No, nothing like that. More like she's got two legs that she uses to chase whatever thrilling experience she can. Another one of her wacky theories was that her 'true love's kiss' gave her the ability to shapeshift between her land and water forms whenever she wanted."
"Huh."
"All my siblings think she's crazy. The idea was tempting enough for awhile, though. Fiona had gotten real close to this sailor named Steve. He promised her the world and she believed him. But their bond wasn't enough to shift. Fiona was sure he was her soulmate. He still comes around sometimes. And then there's Debbie, who almost got killed trying to woo some girl at the port. I think my mother is just a hopeless romantic. But hope can be dangerous sometimes."
Mickey listened on to this story that sounded more like a children's bedtime story -- all this princess nonsense about a true love's kiss made him think that maybe this red-head was Ariel. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the worried look in Ian's eyes.
"Well whatever it is, she sounds pretty lucky."
Ian smiled softly, sadly. "Yeah."
"Hey," Mickey said gently. "I'll see you around, okay?"
"Okay."
And with that, Mickey sailed his patchwork boat back to whatever wrath Mandy was about to unleash on him.
--
The door creaked as Mickey made his way into the apartment he shares with his sister. He was nearly tackled on sight.
"Mickey, what the fuck!" Mandy punched his shoulder before crushing him into another hug. "I was so worried about you, you little shit!" "Ow! Jesus, I'm alive. Would you calm your tits?!"
Mandy gave him one more punch for good measure, "Where the fuck have you been? Three days, Mikhailo Aleksandr, three days! Tell me you didn't get that bitch up at the other port pregnant. I'm not taking in anymore rug rats."
"Bad storm. Boat wreck. And ya know what," Mickey threw his hands into the air, "I wish I would have got someone pregnant. Instead, I was stranded at sea, so maybe be a little bit nicer to me?"
"Fuck." She slumped a bit, "How did you manage to get back? Did you call one of your pirate buddies?"
"Jesus Christ, Mandy. I'm not a pirate -- even though they are dope as fuck, by the way. I just so happen to have a few brain cells -- something you don't know anything about."
Mandy rolled her eyes, "Competent enough to sail straight into a storm, huh?
Mickey flipped her off, "Good to be home, sis."
Mandy smiled, "C'mon, I'll make you some real food. I'm sick just thinking about you surviving off fuckin' jerky for half a week."
-- Mickey picked up a couple shifts at Mandy's bar the next week and a half to make up for three days of lost produce and another week for the time it took to properly fix his boat. He trusted Ian's magic mud well enough, but he didn't want to push his luck.
He wore short sleeve button-ups when he was bartending. He didn't have the comfortable luxury of built in inner pockets like with his fishing overalls, so he sewed his own. He couldn't stand the idea of not having his lucky stone close to his heart.
One night while he was slinging drinks, he mind at sea, he felt the stone grow hot and hotter. Fuck! It nearly burned his skin. He took it out from its pocket tossing it back and forth between his hands. It was glowing again. He felt nauseous. This had to mean Ian was in danger, right? Like last time in the cave? He wasn't on the island. He didn't have some magic pathway leading him exactly where he needed to go. What if he didn't get there in time?
He must have looked as insane as he felt because he felt a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Mick, take a fifteen."
"Got it." Mickey headed out back. Mandy would assume he was just having a smoke. But he ran. He hoped to hell that he was on the right track. The stone glowed brighter so he took that as a good sign.
He was out of breath as he rounded the corner and ended up at the docks. The stone's glow died down and it grew cold. Something was very wrong. What the fuck?
"Ian!" He probably looked like a psychopath screaming at the sea. Maybe he wasn't far from it.
This was the dock his boat was usually parked at. He was on his way to his old spot. Maybe--
A flash of red caught his eye in the dark water. No fish that red was ever this close to shore. His stomach crumbled. Oh my God, Ian.
Mickey dropped to ground, trying to get a better look at what was wrong. Wrapped in fishing nets was Ian, his skin a sickly shade of blue that wasn't from the moonlight.
Mickey made quick work of the fishing net with his pocket knife, careful not to cut Ian's slightly cold body. Was he too late? He couldn't be too late. He was here now. Everything would be fine.
Tapping into the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Mickey heaved Ian's large body onto the dock planks. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing at least.
"Ian. Ian, look at me. You're safe now, okay?" Mickey turned around, making sure he was alone. Luckily, no one was out at the water this time of night. Mickey pulled Ian's head into his lap and brushed his fingers through Ian's hair. Fuckin' finally. It was soft. So soft. "Hey, Red, wanna hook me up with whatever conditioner you got under the sea?" He laughed at himself to keep from crying.
Ian murmured something, lips barely parting.
Mickey stopped his caresses, "What was that, Mumbles?"
"Said you're a dumbass." Ian repeated. It was quiet, but his sass rang through. He was alive alright.
"I know." Mickey smiled for real this time. He placed a gentle kiss on Ian's forehead near his hairline. Ian's eyes fluttered open as they held each others' gaze.
They were distracted when Mickey's stone glowed bright again. Probably brighter than it has ever been before. The color shifted from it's usual green ember to resemble more of an icy blue. The boys watched as it began to shake on the ground -- where Mickey had dropped it when he spotted Ian's body. The stone continued to vibrate violently until it burst. Green and blue specks of light joining the stars in the sky above them. Mickey was so entranced by the light that he didn't notice when something else began to shift.
Ian's shimmering red-orange tail was replaced by two, long, freckled legs. Ian's eyes grew wide as he hit Mickey's arm.
"The fuck you hitting me for -- holy shit."
"Maybe my mom wasn't crazy."
"Maybe not." Mickey traced Ian's new legs with his fingertips. "How do you feel? Pretty big change, champ."
"It feels right... which is weird." Ian concluded after a moment, wiggling his toes.
"You're weird, so it makes sense." Mickey nodded, like it was obvious.
Ian rolled his eyes, "Shut up."
Mickey cocked his head as his lips upturned into a smirk, "Make me."
Mickey had expected Ian to still be chilled from the water, but he wasn't. He was warm and soft. So there they stayed, tightly wrapped in each others' arms under the dancing green-blue stars and the sound of gentle waves knocking into boats.
--
It was safe to say that Mickey had entirely forgot about returning to his shift at the bar that night. They had decided to sneak Ian into Mickey's room before the fishermen got their early start on the day ay the docks. It was still dark when they slowly opened his apartment's front door, knocking into each other and trying not to laugh at their bizarre situation.
Mandy flicked on the larger kitchen light, ready to give her brother an ear-full for leaving her alone to serve the bar creeps all night when she noticed he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a tall, gorgeous, red-headed man, who appeared to only have eyes for her brother, not even noticing her presence.
"I thought you said you didn't have any bitches?" Mandy said, hoping to burst them out of their little bubble.
Mickey mumbled a quiet fuck under his breath. And surprisingly, Ian was the first to speak up, "Uh, you must be Mandy? I'm Ian. I'm uh- just visiting town."
"Mhm, whatever you say. Mick, next time, at least tell me when you're ditching work for a booty call, yeah?" She said after an appreciative glance Ian's way, bumping Mickey's hip as she walked past them to her room down the hall.
"Oh, work. Yeah, my bad." Mickey had genuinely forgot. Something about soulmates kind of clouding his judgement.
"Pasta's on the stove -- goodnight, dumbass and company!" She called before slamming her door closed.
Ian erupted into a fistful of giggles, "So much for sneaking in, huh?"
"Whatever, do you want some pasta, or are you sticking straight to cannibalism and orange peels?" Mickey teased.
"I'll have whatever you're having, stud." Ian squeezed the back of Mickey's neck.
--
After their late night/ early morning pasta, they had curled up in Mickey's bed, facing each other in silence, their eyes saying all the words that they didn't need to say out loud. Until-
"Fuck!" Ian's abrupt comment startled Mickey, even causing a hitch in Mandy's snoring in the next room over. Softer, he continued, "Your lucky stone, Mick. It's gone." He looked sad. He wanted to fix it.
Mickey brought his hand up to Ian's cheek, brushing it softly. "I don't need it, man. I have you."
Ian covered Mickey's hand with his own, then brought their hands to his lips, kissing each of Mickey's tattooed knuckles gently, like they held the secrets of the universe. Mickey smiled.
"I am the luckiest man in the world." And he was.
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echo-of-sounds · 4 years
Text
pet surprise
Small drabbles of you surprising Aizawa, Toshi, and Gang Orca with a new pet.
I had more Halloween stuff for today but I couldn’t stop thinking about this. I have Halloween drabbles for next week though!
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Aizawa Shouta
“Hey,” you smiled as you opened the door.
Shouta grunted from the couch, focusing on the TV. You sat the carrier and bag down and went up behind him, hugging his shoulders, kissing the side of his head. He grumbled, “What do you want?”
“Don’t be mad.”
He tried to stand. You kept your arms around him, keeping him seated. He sighed, “What did you do?”
“Nothing bad… just, remember when we talked about getting a pet?”
“Yes, and we both agreed we didn’t have the extra time for one.”
“Yes… but once I saw her, I promised I’d make the time.”
“Promised whom?”
“Myself.” Through his grouching, you kissed him multiple more times. “Just stay here and don’t look. I promise you’ll love her too.”
He didn't respond, so you took that as a yes. You scurried back over to the carrier and gently picked up the already purring three-month-old kitten. She was a Siamese blue-point with only one eye. Fur covered the area where her left should be.
Grinning wide, you carried her around to Shouta. His glower immediately lifted upon seeing her. A smile could almost be seen when he quietly asked, “What’s her name?”
“Mimzy. She was in the shelter window. Once I saw her, I couldn’t leave her.” She still purred, loud and healthily, when you placed her in his outstretched hands. 
He cradled her to his chest. She stretched out her front legs, laying happily against his warm body. That brought out the smile.
Next, you brought over the bag with care products and toys. “I bought all the things we need. This especially,” you said, pulling out the simple, cute collar. It was pink with a tiny heart decoration. “You can put it on her.”
Tender fingers latched it around her neck. She yawned but didn’t fully wake, tired from playing earlier. His smile grew. His eyebrows lifted, affectionately petting her back and stroking her large ears, kissing her head.
“Are you mad?”
“Not in the least,” he muttered.
You weren’t going to say it but you hoped she’d provide some sort of comfort for him during his stressed and worry-filled days. Her soft fur, light purrs, and quiet company were definitely grounding and soothing. 
You kissed Sho’s forehead, leaning on his shoulder after, rubbing Mimzy’s cheek. She’ll undoubtedly become his new best friend soon.
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Yagi Toshinori
You cautiously entered the apartment, beyond thankful Toshinori wasn’t in the living room. Though his voice greeted you from the hallway. You hid the carrier behind the table and rushed to the hall, shielding his eyes with your hands.
He grabbed your shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a surprise.” The puppy yawned as he stirred from his nap.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Come sit.” Still covering his eyes, you led him to the couch.
“Honey, please, I don’t want any surprises.”
“Shhh.” You kissed him. At least he smiled at that. “We’ve talked about this. I’ve been looking for the perfect one and I finally found him. Trust me, you’ll love him.”
“Him?”
“Just keep your eyes closed.” You kissed him again before scampering back to the fluffy puppy. As soon as you opened the door, he excitedly scurried out of the carrier, wagging his tail so hard it wiggled his butt back and forth. He took off towards the only other person in the room.
Toshi opened his eyes and gasped at the little golden retriever. Any worries he had must have disappeared given his huge smile. It widened when he saw the All Might themed bandana. He picked up the squirming puppy and asked with a laugh, “Where did you get him?”
You sat beside him, petting the soft fur. “The family put ads online. I left work at lunch and drove an hour away to get him.”
“You found and bought him today?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want anyone else to buy him. Besides, he looks too much like you. I couldn’t pass him up.”
“What about training and food and toys? We’re not prepared for a dog.”
“We weren’t prepared,” you corrected. The puppy jumped from his hands and ran up and down the couch, stopping on his lap with a yip before running away again. “He’s already house-trained and has started learning basic commands. They gave me a few toys for him as well, and I picked up food and some other things at the pet store.”
Toshi looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was actually angry or happy or frustrated or what. The puppy licked his cheek, getting him to smile again. You took the opportunity to ask, “You’re not mad, are you?”
“I don’t think I could be if I wanted to,” he chuckled. “What’s his name?”
“Taiga. He’s a year old.” You kissed him, stroking his cheek. “I just wanted you to have a dog to help you. I know you’re not there yet, but I worry about your health and I want you to have the support of a dog.”
Lips brushed your palm, then your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. And I know I’m not there yet either but it’ll be comforting having him with me. I can already tell.” He kissed you deeply, holding your hand tightly.
Taiga bounced between you, interrupting the kiss like he wanted to be a part of it. A little drool dripped onto your leg. “I guess we should get used to that,” Toshi commented, kissing your forehead once more before picking Taiga up to cuddle and play with.
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Gang Orca
The second Kugo opened the door, you blurted his name, begging him to come over quietly. He did as you asked. He questioned faintly, pointing to the white, fluffy ball in the crook of your arm, “What are you holding?”
“A gift for you,” you smiled.
He sat beside you, stirring the balance of your body, waking the baby bunny. Her head curiously peeked out. Itty-bitty ears poked up. A tiny nose twitched. 
“You bought a bunny?” He gingerly ran the back of his finger along the top of her head. When she moved, he quickly drew his hand away.
“Yeah. Do you want to hold her?”
“No, I probably shouldn’t,” he shook his head. Despite the decline, his eyes beamed at the bunny, wishing to feel the soft fur and tiny body.
Even though you wanted a pet anyway, you primarily got her to show Kugo just how gentle of a man he truly was. So often he recoiled from kids and babies and animals, not out of disgust, but out of fear of hurting or damaging them. Yet, he’s never so much as hurt the leg of a spider on the window screen, always freeing them to the outside world. He deserved cute and cuddly things as much as everyone else.
You tilted his head towards you, bringing his nose in reach to kiss it. You softly urged, “Hold her, Kugo. You won’t hurt her. I know you won’t.”
“I’ll try for a little bit.”
The worker at the shelter helped you understand how to properly handle a bunny. You explained in a low voice, “You need to gently but firmly hold her. They feel more secure when all four of their feet are against your body. And their spines are fragile, so you need to be careful.
Deflating against the cushion, he backed down, “You should just hold her for now.”
“Kugo, look at me.” You smiled at him, trying to get him to smile back. “You’ve never hurt anyone or anything. I know you won’t hurt her. But if you’re truly not ready, then it’s okay. We’ll wait until you are.”
“I…” he hesitated, looking at his hefty hands. “I’ll try.”
You carefully maneuvered her onto him. She squirmed a little but settled down once her feet found his arm. He lifted her up to meet her eyes, supporting her back with his other hand. Her nose wiggled. He tapped his nose to hers, finally smiling.
“Do you like her?”
“She’s perfect,” he whispered, cradling her to his cheek. He hummed at the fur and feeling.
“She doesn’t have a name yet. You can choose one.”
You barely got the sentence out when he answered: “Sprinkles.”
“Sprinkles?” you repeated with a laugh.
“Yes. It’s perfect for her.”
“So, you’re not mad at me for spontaneously buying a pet?”
“Not at all.” He nestled her comfortably on his chest. You leaned on his arm, watching him pet her with a big, handsome smile. 
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ashisstrange · 3 years
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MASTERLIST
ʷᵒʳᵈˢ: ².²ᵏ
ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ: ᶜʰⁱˡᵈᵉ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵍˢ: ʰᵘʳᵗ/ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ, ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ, ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ⁱⁿˢᵉʳᵗ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ
✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥
Its late in the night, far too late for your liking. The moon is glistening in the sky with it's stars, providing a small sheen of light in your dark room, passing through the curtains. It's not unusual for Tartaglia to get home late considering his occupation, but you never got used to the worry pooling in ur gut each hour that passes without him by your side.
What if he's gotten incredibly hurt and you're not there to help? What if one day he doesn't return home? Nontheless you always prepare extra dinner and make the bed, even on nights he doesn't return. You never had the idea of coming home to loving arms and warm dinner as a kid, so it felt as if it's your duty to make sure Tartaglia never suffers that feeling.
The feeling of a stab in the chest as you enter the dark house, eerily silent. You'd always pad your way to the kitchen silently and snag a sandwich before going to bed in your room. Your living situation had never been inherently bad, but the people you lived with, the people any other person would've called their parents, seemed to make everything unbearable.
That is why when you turned 18 you moved out to Liyue harbor, and your close friend Zhongli was there every step of the way. You had run into him once during a trip at the age of 16, and you had kept contact through letters ever since.
The man, at the time, told you he was 23, but he never really seemed to age. You brushed it off, probably overthinking it. That is the same person that introduced you to Childe, it was quite a sudden occurence, but you'll be forever grateful.
You needed a place to stay and your friend told you that his friend wouldnt mind a roommate, and that he was rarely found home anyways. You took up the offer, not knowing that your roommate would be one of the fatui harbingers.
You were off to a rocky start, the man refusing to talk to you the very few times he was at the appartment. Later though, he seemed to warm up to you, ever so slowly.
You don't remember how your relationship ever came to be, it's not like you've ever explicitly put a label to it. There was just a moment where you felt as if everything changed. What you had wasn't just merely a romantic relationship, it was more than that. To provide each other comfort and love like no one else had ever done before. Unconditional love that didnt seem to falter, even during the moments where you parted ways.
You smile to yourself, remeniscing the days you barely talked, and the days you spent helping him when he was wounded. There was one particular night he just crashed into your bed in the middle of the night, even though he usually only used the couch.
He had clung to you as if you were his only lifeline, sleeping soundlessly as you laid in shock. The shock died down after a few seconds though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Not long after you fell asleep too, and since that night Tartaglia had never slept on the couch ever again.
You check th clock. 4:37 Am, way too late to be up, but it's not like you'd sleep regardless. You'd probably get an ear full from Zhongli during your scheduled lunch the next day, but that, folks, is something for future you to deal with.
Suddenly you heard the turning of keys in a lock, and a door opening and slamming shut. That can only be one person. Then you heard a crash coming from the living room, making you shoot up. You slipped on your slippers as you quickly shuffled your way across the room and out into the living room.
You flicked on the light and were met by Tartaglia, slumped against the back of the couch. His bow was discarded to the side and he was breathing heavily. Sluggishly, his eyes opened to meet yours, his gaze seemed distant, almost empty.
You snapped out of your trance, rushing to pull his arm over your shoulder. You managed to drag him across the living room, over to the bathroom, settling him down on the closed lid of the toilet. You held up your hands, as if to say 'wait here'. You didn't dare break the silence that hung over you, scared that you'd set him off or something.
He didn't seem to protest, so you left to go get the med kit from the kitchen, and a clean rag to clean off the blood splattered across his skin. Was it his? That was a question that, regardless if you could guess the answer, would be left unanswered. As always.
He met your eyes when you returned, seeking for some contact. He knew how much you hated blood. The stickyness, the sickening smell and the thought of what must have happened that involved getting covered in blood. You always helped him regardless, and he thanked you dearly for that. After a long day he simply could not do it himself.
It makes him feel helpless, but you're always right by his side to make him feel better. You wet the rag, cleaning off his calloused hands. His face too had some traces of blood, but those were easily wiped away as well.
After some emergency stitches and a bandage around his bicep you motioned for him to stand up, letting him know that the treatment was done. He was still quite weak, but not as much as before.
"Thanks," he croaked, the first words you shared in 2 days. His voice sounded devoid of any confidence. He seemed very fragile, but you didn't comment it.
"No worries," You send him a reassuring smile, helping him get up and over to the bedroom. You see him visibly relax once he's in bed, snuggling into the sheets. He immediately rolls over towards you when he feels the matress dip, wrapping his arms around your waist.
His face is buried in between your shoulder blades, and it's nearly impossible for you to turn over and look at him. He only does that when he's in a bad mood, and you stop putting in effort to try and face him.
"Bad day?" He hums, the vibrations thrumming against your back. He seems tense, but you're careful not to trigger him too much. The last thing you want is to stress him out even more, knowing he has a lot on his plate already.
After a while, when you've started nodding away assuming he fell asleep you suddenly feel movement behind you. You open your eyes as you hear a small sniffle. It's almost as if you could hear your hart shatter from beneath your ribs. He probably thought you were asleep too.
His arms had relaxed, allowing you to turn around easily. His ocean blue eyes met yours, big with surprise, even though they seemed almost grey-ish in the faint moonlight. All you could do is smile at him as you opened his arms, for him to rely on you.
And that's exactly what he did. qHe fell into your chest, sniffling and crying freely as you drew patterns on his back, your other hand running through his hair. You could almost feel his clogged nose by the way he was having trouble breathing. After a bit his sobbing eased down to mere sniffles as you handed him a handkerchief to blow out his nose.
He used to have a lot of trouble with that, relying on people. Upon meeting him he imediately sparked you as the type of person that didnt bother anyone with his personal feelings, bottling them up for only him to experience. You could see how it physically and mentally ate away at him
That's why one day you faced him, and opened your arms. He had quirked up a brow, confused at what you were insinuating. "Rely on me." You said, and he chuckled, assuming it was a joke.
When you didn't move he realised you weren't kidding. Eventually you wrapped your arms around him, the man tense in your grip. "You don't seem to want to bug anyone else with your problems, so you can rely on me instead,"
You had no idea ho much those words had meant to him, they stuck by him like gum under a shoe. It felt good, he admitted, to have someone to rely on.
"I'm so sorry," He croaks, and he sounds nearly as small as he did in the bathroom half an hour ago, his eyes red with tears. Seeing him like that made your chest clench in pain, knowing the pain the world has caused him.
"There's nothing for you to apologise for," he seems to be taken aback by your comment, maybe even... offended?
"N-no way, i'm clearly a burden to you and a waste of yo-" you shut him up by pressing a kiss to his lips, making his eyes widen.
"You have nothing to apologize for because i am here for you, willingly. I promised to help you with whatever you're going through didn't i," He nods in defeat, leaning back into you. The way he cuddles up to you almost seems domestic, forgetting the fact that he kills people for a living.
"You need to take a break sweetie, otherwise you'll just keep eating yourself up," You stroke a lock of hair out of his face that nearly seemed glued by the stickyness of his tears. He furrows his brows, creating deep creases in between them.
"You know i can't, there's way too much for me to do," He looks up at you, as if he's offended you brought it up in the first place. You press your thumb in between his brows, easing up the crease and stopping him from furrowing.
"We both know it isn't a crime to take a week off, considering you've never used your days off," He tries to butt in, but you shush him before he can start. "And before you start about 'your duties', there's enough harbingers at the fatui, it's not like they can't send Scaramouche to deal with your business for a bit,"
He frowns again, but you resume in stroking his hair. "Besides, if they don't allow you to take off, which i highly doubt, they'll have me to deal with," You smirk. His eyes crinkle up as he musters a small smile. You're not the most intimidating person on the planet, but it's the sentiment that matters.
"What would i even do in that week though," he huffs, fiddling with the back of your shirt as he seems deep in thought.
"Well i had just the idea," you chuckle as he looks at you in disbelief. His eyes are still a bleary red, but you can tell he's a lot less tense than earlier. "And that is..." He continues, his tone ever so curious.
"Say, how long has it been since you've been back home," he visibly tenses up, not meeting your eyes. You know its a sensetive topic, but it'd really do him good to go back home to see his family.
"I dont know, nearly two years," his voice is merely above a whisper, bless the fact that the room is so silent you'd be able to hear a pin drop. You adjust your position so that he's laying against you more comfortably, going back to stroking through his hair.
"Well i thought we could book it to shnezhynaiya for a week or two, spend some time with your family," He lays still against you, as if he'd break if he moved. "After all, they've only heard about me through letters," you chuckle.
You hold him a little tighter, leaning into the warmth. "Wouldn't you like that?" You say in his ear, just above a whisper. That seems to break him, the realisation dawning on him that he'd get to see his family again.  Tears run down his face once again, only this time they're not caused by distress. He nods as he buries his face back into your shoulder.
You stroke his back as you continue talking about your trip, soothing him. Later, when he's stopped crying, he talks along. He tells you about his parents, about how his mother used to be there for him through everything. About how he used to go ice fishing with his father in the winters, and proudly mention he caught a very big fish once.
He also tells you about his siblings, about how he cares for every single one of them very dearly. He also tells you about the spots he wants to visit with you he used to hang out at.
He tells you all about it, and for the first time in a while you see him smile. Really, genuinely smile. The kind of smile where his eyes crinkle up and he bares his teeth. It's an incredibly endearing sight, and u make a mental note to never forget it.
Suddenly he yawns. "You must be exhausted," you chuckle as you both adjust your positions, ready to fall asleep. He only hums as he keeps his eyes shut, pulling up his blanket. His breathing evens out as he falls asleep.
You smile as you look at his resting face, snuggling closer to him as you think; god, how did i get this lucky
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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years
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Damn, You Look Happy Now
It's angst week for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge!
The rules are three 15-minute sprints with 24 hours for light editing, which includes new writing to smooth transitions or make it feel complete. I ended up with four sprints and added around 1,000 words on this one because... I mean, feels are really hard.
The prompt I used this time around was: "It's okay, I'm used to it." And that combined in my head with Heart Shut by Alex Hall feat. Tenille Townes which I heard the day after watching the episode and I couldn't help but think of these two. 
Summary: Luka's looking forward to a quiet performance in a small local bar until Marinette walks in leading Adrien by the hand. And she looks so happy. Luka just needs to pretend it's not absolutely killing him.
Warnings: S4/E1: Truth Spoilers, non-consensual kissing, drinking
Read on Ao3 
Luka glanced out over the crowd, idly picking at his guitar. After years of touring with Jagged, it was nice to play the background music for a quiet place like this. Although he had to admit the crowd was probably larger than normal for the small local bar.
He frowned unconsciously as his fingers started to find all-too-familiar notes, and his crowd-searching became more focused, intent on finding her. And find her he did. Worming her way to the tables in front of the stage, leading a bewildered, laughing Adrien by the hand. Her melody bubbled up to him over the hum of the crowd. It had changed. When they were teenagers it had been dragged down by confusion, longing, and responsibility. His fingers tripped over the strings lightly, every playful note confirming the happiness she’d found.
Adrien took Marinette’s coat and draped it across the back of her chair before helping her into it. She rolled her eyes when he pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles and he smirked back before disappearing, presumably to order their drinks. The ease between them was obvious. He could only assume—well, admittedly he’d never asked. But in the limited contact they kept up, she’d never mentioned the new development, either.
She waved shyly at him up on the stage and he set his face in a smile and nodded back. She’d cut her hair. It was cropped close to her neck now, but she’d kept the bangs he remembered. As their eyes were linked, she reached up to worry at a pigtail that wasn’t there, asking him with her eyes if he liked it. Despite himself, his smile warmed as he nodded again. He really did. She looked so happy now, especially when Adrien returned to sit next to her and draped his arm across the back of her seat casually.
He tried—he really did—to focus on his performance, but it was honestly the worst of his life. His eyes kept drifting over to her, often catching her leaning her head close to Adrien’s to talk. Adrien subtly kept her drink full all night, until she was hiding giggles behind her hands and leaning amiably against his shoulder. Every once in a while she’d catch Luka watching her and sober instantly, straightening up to twist her fingers on the table instead, biting her lips and shooting furtive glances his way.
But Adrien would say something in her ear and make her smile again.
The end of his set was an immense relief. He planned on disappearing out back until they left. Not that he didn’t want to talk to her, he just… couldn’t. So he slipped his guitar off and set it aside before he slid quietly out the door marked ‘Employees Only.’
Instantly, he wrapped his arms around himself, regretting not grabbing his leather jacket. It was snowing, and already a thin layer was frosting the cobblestones of the alley he was standing in. There was one other person out there, on a smoke break, but they took one look at Luka and took a last puff before crushing it out and going back inside. The stale cigarette smoke hung around him and mixed with the smell of the dumpster and the crisp winter air. It didn’t help calm his twisting stomach. But he took deep breaths anyways, focusing more on the snowflakes landing on his hot skin, melting away to nothing like he desperately wished he could right now.
He heard the door beside him open and he didn’t even need to look to know she’d followed him. That haunting melody was already in his head and he took one more steadying breath, preparing to tell her he was happy for her as he turned to face her.
She was clutching her coat around her tightly, peeking up at him from behind snow-laden eyelashes. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence of the snow falling around them stretch to the point of breaking. He shook off the chill that was beginning to seep into his chest and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You look good,” he started, “happy, I mean.”
“I am,” she murmured back, but there was a strange twinge to her tone. “Um, I wanted to tell you—”
“Marinette, you don’t have to.” He cut her off before the words he didn’t want to hear passed her lips. He wasn’t expecting the childish pout that scrunched her face.
“I do, though,” she insisted, “It’s why we came here tonight, to watch you play, and so I could see you again and tell you—” She took a sharp breath in and held it, biting her lip again. It was only then that Luka noticed the glassy sheen of her eyes and her reddened cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. He counted in his head how many drinks she must’ve had over the course of the evening. Not enough to not remember, but definitely enough to not be in control.
“You’ve been drinking, Marinette,” he said gently. “You should go back inside. I’m sure Adrien’s looking for you.”
“He’ll wait.” She hiccuped and giggled. “But first I have to tell you something.”
“You can call me tomorrow when you’re sober.” He didn’t mean to be so short with her, but the image of her going home with Adrien hit him harder than he thought it would. He started to reach around her to open the door she was still standing in front of and usher her back through, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged him down to her.
As she pressed her lips against his, his body reacted first out of habit. Too many years of crazed fans forgetting he was a person and not a sex symbol. His hands peeled hers off him gently and he took a step back. Except this was Marinette and it tore at something inside him to tear himself away from her.
When he blinked back to the cold reality standing in front of him, he licked his lips unconsciously before daring to look at her again. She was mostly stunned, her eyes blown wide and her lips still slightly parted.
“Oh my God, Luka, I’m so sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay,” he managed to choke out. Not that it was, but it was what came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat to try to speak past the lump that had formed. “I’m… used to it.”
Just not from you, his mind supplied helpfully. He was still holding her wrists and for some reason his thumb moved on its own, rubbing against her delicate skin, but he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
“That... was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. God, I’m so embarrassed.” She tried to hide her face in her hands, but ended up pressing her forehead against his chest instead, muttering about being a disaster.
He only resisted the urge to fold her into his arms because he could smell Adrien’s cologne lingering in her hair. Instead he cleared his throat again.
“Marinette, does Adrien know you’re out here with me?”
She looked up at him and scrunched up her face again, in confusion this time instead of defiance. “Of course he does. He’s the reason I’m out here with you. Mangy cat practically shoved me out the door.”
...What? He blinked at her, uncomprehending, and she sighed as she snuggled into him which was not helping his ability to process anything. He dropped her wrists and grabbed her by the shoulders instead, stabilizing her as he pulled her off him.
“You’re gonna have to help me out, here. You’re here with Adrien, right?”
“Well, yeah, I’m here with Adrien.” She rolled her eyes at him, but then when she caught sight of his serious expression, she seemed to realize something. “Oh, you think—No! No, I’m not—I’m here with Adrien, but I’m not here with Adrien, he’s—we’re—oh, it’s a long story, and that’s why I wanted to tell you, but it’s all wrong and now you think—and I—Luka, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m awful and—”
He took a deep breath and sorted through her ramblings. With Adrien, but not with Adrien. His head was spinning. Adrien was the reason she was out here. She wanted to tell him something. None of it was really adding up, and yet at the same time it was.
“What were you going to tell me earlier?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.
“Under the moon, deep within the woods…” she muttered under her breath, then hiccuped again. The faded memory of a failed date rushed back to him and whatever breath he had left him. She was twisting her fingers into the front of his shirt, seeming very interested in her shoes until she let out a short huff of breath and finally met his eyes again. “I wanted to tell you my secret, Luka, now that it’s all over. And I wanted to tell you…” She blinked up at him with those wide eyes and bit her lip again. This time, he waited for the end of her thought. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath in and let it out slowly. When she opened them again, they were clear, as blue as he remembered, and starting to brim with tears.
“I never stopped loving you,” she murmured. “It—the timing, was just—” Another short huff of breath and she wiped at her cheeks. Impatient with herself, it seemed, for not knowing which words to use. But then she drew herself up and the look in her eye became steely.
Every Parisian knew that look. Luka blinked just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but it was definitely still Marinette in front of him and not Ladybug. But. She’d said it was all over. Hawkmoth’s defeat—he’d been in America at the time, but the news had done a small segment on it. Her secret. The realization crashed into him at about the same time the words left her mouth.
Without being aware of it, his hand drifted to his wallet in his back pocket and he easily withdrew the signed guitar pick necklace she’d given him. It felt like a lifetime ago. For a moment he let it hang between them, then let the cord slip through his fingers and into her cupped hands.
“I can’t believe you kept it,” she said softly.
She picked it up to look at it, no doubt noticing the wear on it. When he was writing songs on the road, or nervous before a show, or just thinking of her and wishing things had gone differently, he’d take it out and rub his thumb over the smooth plastic. The design on one side was nearly worn off from it.
“My lucky charm,” he murmured. Her eyes bounced back up to his as a genuine blush rose on her cheeks.
A shiver wracked through him as the new information and the cold caught up to him. Marinette’s expression instantly shifted to concern. “You must be freezing! We’ll go back inside and—”
As she turned away to open the door he spun her back to him and leaned down to press his lips against hers this time. She let out a muffled gasp of surprise, then wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him to her, angling her head to kiss him better.
When he pulled away—entirely too soon in his opinion, but it was hard to kiss her the way he wanted with chattering teeth—he pressed his forehead against hers fondly. She giggled and ran a hand through his hair, brushing out stray snowflakes that hadn’t melted away yet.
“You know, it was actually Adrien who told me you were here tonight,” she admitted shyly.
“Remind me to buy Chat Noir a drink,” he muttered, and she laughed again and took his hand, lacing their fingers together as she did to lead him back inside.
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peoplecallmelucifer · 3 years
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Every story ever written
“Attention passengers“ A pleasant voice echoed trough the hallways “We will be arriving to Nithra 5 in half an hour. Please prepare to disembark“ John Was excited and nervous. He was a part of the group representing Earth at the art festival of the Galactic Assembly. Considering it was Earths first Time sending representatives and hew as the one giving the speech his nervousness was justified. AS they disembarked the cruise ship they were greeted by a tall and slender “It’s my pleasure to extend the greetings in behalf of the Galactic assembly. I am Nithra Suenn and was assigned as your guide during your stay“
John  stood on his toes so he would be able to look Suenn in the eyes. “ Oh, thank you. I’m Jonathan grace, you can call me John, This here is Antonio Morena..” “Toni for short” the man replied “...And this is Maria Petova“ “I’m Just short” Maria replied baiting a chuckle out of their Guide May I ask something before we start though“ Sam said “Of course“ Suenn replied “Could you tell us where the envoys of the other two newcomer are.“ “Of course. If you wish I could notify their guides and see if they would be willing to arrange a meeting later today“ “That’d be lovely“ “Now If you would follow me to your quarters. I presume you would want some rest before we start the tour“ “Lead the way miss Nithra“ Sam said with a smile AS the trio followed their guide they took in the sights of the Spacedock, during the 10 minutes shuttle ride to the planet surface Toni and John were debating their upcoming speech while Maria quietly hummed a lullaby as she stared out of the window. “Miss Maria“ Suen said as she noticed the humming “oh, yes Suenn?“ “May I inquire about the melody you were... singing“ “Oh that, I was humming a lullaby I usually sing for my daughter. This is the longest I’ve been separated from her so I’m a bit Melancholic“ “Oh,  quite understandable. We Tlii also have a strong  bond with our family ... I’m nearly 40 and I still call my parents daily.“ The rest of the ride was marked by present small talk. When they landed The Group was given an hour to rest before they head out towards the “Palace of Art” The most famous gallery in the Explored part of the galaxy. “So folks“ John said “First impressions“ “Bit too formal for my taste but not bad. The Guide is cute too“ Maria replied “I’m hungry“ Toni replied “Well go grab something from the hotels restaurant. Suenn Said all the costs will be covered“ John said as Tonis eyes widened “So ... Free all you can eat buffet?“ “Yes“ “And we are staying here for a week“ “Yes“ “...Good bye my summer body“
“You’re a pig“ Maria said as Toni was closing the doors A few minutes later Suenn knocked on the doors “hello again. I have contacted the guides of the other two newcomers and their envoys said they would gladly meet you but they also requested we arrive fifteen minutes early so that you can have a proper meeting“ “Thank you very much Suenn. Tell them we agree“ Maria said Suenn nodded and left “Why do you wanna meet them anyway“ Maria asked John “Well they are new here, we are new here, none of  us actually knows what’s going on. It might be easier for all of us if we feel confused together“ “Fair point“ The human delegacy arrived 10 minutes earlier than agreed, mostly because of Johns insistence. “Why were you so adamant on arriving early Mister John “ “Well... I was too anxious for waiting in the hotel“ “And waiting here is... not causing anxiety?“ “No, because here I’m sure I won’t miss anything important“ “I can not say I fully comprehend that logic but if it lessens your anxiety I see no problem with waiting here.“ “Can I ask you something Suenn?“ “Of course?“ “I noticed your First name was the identical to the name of the planet. Is that Just a coincidence or something else?“ “It’s actually Tradition. Tlii name their children after  their Birthplace and a name chosen by their parents. I was born on this planet so My Birth Name is Nithra while my Given name is Suenn.“ “Huh. Interesting.“ After a few more  minutes of casual discussions the two delegations arrived. The D’Dret Delegacy consisted of twelve members all sporting their environment suits. “Greeting fellow children“ the leader of the delegation said as he reached out his hand
“Children?” Antonio asked quietly“ “The D’Dret word for artist is the same as their word for child“ Suenn replied “Kinda fits right“ John shook the delegates hand “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m JonathanGrace, leader of our delegation. You can call me John “ “I am afraid my name is quite impossible for the translator to handle so feel free to call me Otra, considering that’s the Star system I hail from“ From the other vehicle disembarked a delegation of twenty Beings of Yellow christening appearance. a leader of the group stepped forth and greeted the gathered “In behalf of Veq Hive I speak the words of greeting” the translator read “In be half of Humanity I accept the gritting and send my own“ John said and bowed, Otra mimicking his actions saying “ I do the same on behalf of D’Dret autonomy“ The Veq leader let out a low pitch pleasant click returning the bow “This one is called Ruea“ “My name Is Jonathan Grace“ “Call me Otra, shall we head inside“ “Certainly“ Ruea and John replied While there were no delegates yet there was a descent amount of visitors to the Gallery and the three delegations as well as their guides drew a number of looks. This seemed to make Johnnervous again, but also even more excited than ever. His companions seemed to share this attitude along with the D’Dret delegates. The Veq did not experience emotions, or at lest not in the way  Humans did. They didn’t know fear,Happiness or anger, but could be inquisitive,curious and mistrusting or frustrated. Although the latter was extremely rare and fairly mild. “How come Humans only sent 3 creators“ Ruea asked “Well Humanity is aware of its reputation. Lots of people in the assembly consider us borderline insane due to our contradictory nature. SO our Academy decided that the best course of action here would be to send a small delegation and not draw much attention on ourselves.“ “A reasonable approach Otra said“ “Yeah, but us three decided we have something else in plan for our speech“ “You would... defy your superior?“ Rue said in intrigued Disbelief “to a Veq that causes great pain.“ “Well If i am not wrong, you are biochemically connected, so acts of defiance are extremely rare since your communication is almost instant and complete” John said impressing Ruea “In our case that is not so. We are very Individual even though we are social beings, and sometimes people in authority refuse to listen to suggestions because they see themselves above others. In that case we become defiant“ “You are a weird people“ Said Otra with a little pause “but than again I’m the one in the EV suit“ The lengthy conversation about differences in cultures and approaches to art between all the members of the 3 delegations attracted a crowd of intrigued listeners even Suenn and the other guides were intrigued and occasionally asked a question or two.
After A an hour Suenn spoke up “Excuse me delegates, but the Ceremony is about to start. Would you please follow your respective guide to your seat“ “Oh certainly.“ John said “Ladi Ruea, Otra It has been a pleasure. Hopefully we can continue this discussion sometimes soon“
Suenn Lead her delegation to a circular room with many levels. filled to the brim with delegations from thousand of species. Humans were somewhere around the middle,Maria Noticed the Veq being almost at the bottom and one of their delegates apparently noticed her waving and looked curiously at her. she than put her opened palms on her troth imitating a traditional greeting they taught her. John noticed Otras suit about two levels above them sat juxtaposed to them and covered one eye with his hand greeting his new friend with their greeting to which Otra replied with a peace sign. “hello and welcome everyone to the annually art festival of the Galactic Assembly.” said a small alien “He looks like a plushy” Toni whispered and baited another chuckle out of Suenn. ” This year the assembly welcomed three new species The Pedantic Veq hive, The crafty D’Dret autonomy and ... Diverse Alliance of human worlds. As is tradition the newcomers will hold their speeches first. Starting with the Humans.“ John stood up “I think you for this opportunity but before I hold my speech I must ask, on behalf of our new friends of the Authonomy  and the Hive. would you allow them to speak before us, as they asked me if I would be willing to swap places with them“ “Well... no one ever turned down the offer of being first to speak before, A kind gesture indeed. I don’t see why not. Verry well. Who of you wants to speak first“ “The Authonomy children will gladly hear out our comrades of the Hive before we speak ourselves“ ”I thank our new friends for granting this request of mine.” Lady Ruea replied as she slowly walked to the podium. Suenn turned to John “What you just did was unprecedented. May I inquire why have you done this“ “As we were about to go our separate ways lady Ruea noticed that her translator was running out of battery and her spare was left in their hotel. considering she didn’t want to miss any of our speeches so she asked if I would let her talk first so she can switch her power cell after her speech. and considering I’m nervous as hell right now I decided to give myself a bit more time to relax and see other speeches before I step down there“ “Coward“ Maria teased him “and proud of it“ he replied
The speech of Ruea was simple it briefly described the way her people think and the way they approach art, or as they call it creation. How they prefer writing in strict form but are also constantly looking for new forms to write. how their statues are  trying to be symmetrical in every way and yet innovative. After her Otra came down doing the same talking about how Their culture sees artists as people who never lost their child imagination how every new creation is a new unexplored wonder, just like every next step is a new experience for a toddler. Than came John’s turn. He was still a bit nervous but he kept his cool. “As you know. lady Ruea asked me if I would do her a favour and let her speak first. I let my new friend Otra speak second because I was too nervous to do it myself“ a few chuckles were heard among the crowd “AS you know Humans have a reputation and  I was given a ready speech by the people who sent me here to read and stay out of trouble so that I can alleviate that reputation. But than again That’d be to deny human nature.“ Nick said as he ripped a sheet of paper with a written speech “Oh boy here we go“ Toni commented “What is he doing“ Suenn asked “Being true to himself ... and being a jackass“ maria replied “Our leaders only allowed us artists one speech, and a small delegation. I can live with that. But if they want me to speak I will speak however I see fit. And yes I will get in trouble for this if you were wondering“ A few more chuckles and murmurs started among the crowd “I am know that whatever stylistic figures, whatever topic I can think of, someone else in this room will think of as well. The  Ka’ran are called the masters of Romance and yet some of their poets wrote works of horror I find exquisite.  The Hevar are proud of their odes and marching songs and yet I find their lullabies to be incredibly soothing. So I don’t see a point in pretending that you are going to find something new in our works.“
This statement caused shock, intrigue and utter confusion. Are humans really so self destructive they would sabotage their own nation for an act of defiance? But the whispers and murmurs didn’t bother John
“In our statues, in our poetry, in our novels or paining ... all the motives we use I have seen with one quick stroll trough this gallery. So on this day I claim every story ever told has already been told. we just mixed up the words a bit differently.
A silence fell upon the room
I am looking forward, my fellow delegates, to read how you layed out the words we use.“
*Tink* a sound of two crystals hitting each other was heard from the lower levels *tink* as John walked off the podium and the Veq delegacy tried to imitate human clapping with their christaline limbs. *tink,tink,tink* Soon the D’Dred joined in, followed by the Ka’ran and Hevra that John Mentioned. after a few seconds most of the delegates gave a hearty applause.
“Well...“ the  alien small alien from before stepped back on the podium. “... I guess that a lot of rumours about the humans are true. They certainly are unpredictable and reckless... But If more of them are like their delegation I can only imagine how their artwork looks like. I suggest we take a half hour break before we continue“ The rest of the festival passed in a breeze. with the human delegation being followed by numerous new fans wherever they went. after a week and the conclusion of the festival several species decided to take the “scenic rout home“ as Humans said. and stopped on Cyrenca prime, Nueva Galizza, Earth and other human worlds, buying novels, visiting art museums and observing statues... Jonathan Grace was financially penalized for his “insubordination”, but considering he refused to return to earth, proffering to travel the Worlds of the assembly in search of new ideas to write about, that debt was never prayed. _ _
If you managed to get this far congrats, and thanks for reading.
I wrote this because I’ve noticed a lot of stories under these tags ... even the 2 I wrote are always going towards military and conflict situations. SO I turned it around to something I like much more
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ushidoux · 3 years
Text
Look at Me, Senpai - Hinata x Reader x Daichi (Pt. 3)
Summary: Reader starts to see Hinata in a different light once he returns from Brazil. It turns out Hinata’s inability to give up isn’t just something restricted to the court. (~1.8k words)
Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, infidelity, a touch of the yandere
A/N: Idk how long this fic is gonna get but we’re nearing the big mess. I hope you enjoy reading and let me know what you think!
Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5
---
Leave him.
Hinata’s voice still rang in the back of your head but you would ignore it. Today, you would try on wedding dresses. You’d chosen Daichi, after all.
You trailed behind your older sister, who had flown in from overseas just for the occasion, and your mother who chattered excitedly between themselves, linked arm in arm, as they essentially tore through the bridal shop ahead of you.
“Try this, ___! It’s so beautiful and just look at that embroidery!” your sister insisted, almost snatching a backless and lacy gown from the hands of a terrified employee.
“No, this looks better!” Your mother pushed back, pulling another dress off the rack with no decorum to the other employee’s obvious dismay.
“Look at how high that collar is! Is she getting married to God?”
Meanwhile, you wondered if it was sacrilegious to be wearing white at the wedding given the circumstances.
If you truly loved him, you wouldn’t be like this with me. Why pretend? 
Why not be 100% true to yourself?
Hinata’s dreadful honesty continued to weigh heavily on you as you weaved in and out of dresses, feigning excitement as best you could in order to not tip off your annoyingly perceptive sister.
Only marry someone you love.
“You look beautiful, ___. I think this is the one,” your sister spoke up from the outside, now slipping into the dressing room to get a first glance at you once your mother slipped off for a quick bathroom break.
You whispered a word of thanks as you looked yourself now clad in the one you had also settled on as the perfect gown in the full length mirror, trying to envision the look on Daichi’s face as you came down the aisle, the picture of an angel in the flesh, promising to devote yourself to him forever. You could see your sister purse her lips behind you from the reflection, and you knew she was sizing up your facial expressions.
Oh God, maybe she wouldn’t-
“Cold feet?”
She did.
Your heart sank as you bit your lip, trying to hold back tears, but before you could your sister continued in a soft voice.
“It’s not unnatural to have cold feet.” She took a seat in the small stool set at the corner of the room and crossed her legs before looking at you carefully, a reassuring smile spread on her face. “You remember that I almost ran away the day of my wedding, right?”
The image of her drunk and crying two nights before, eerily calm one night before and practically jumping out the window in her own white dress thirty minutes before she gracefully walked down the aisle came to mind and you found yourself stifling a laugh. She smiled in response to your reaction, all was not lost as long as you could still laugh.
“It’ll be fine, as long as you love him.”
Did you love him?
“How were you sure?” You asked now as you hastily slipped out of the dress. A part of you wondered if you were just being dramatic, but the gentle fabric felt as though it were tightening on your skin despite being the perfect fit.
She let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. 
“I want to say something wise and romantic, like, ‘it was when we met eyes’ or ‘when he walked three miles in the snow to change my flat tire’, but to be honest, it was probably when I realized I couldn’t imagine life with anyone else. I know that sounds cliché but it’s the honest truth.”
She looked you in the eyes and sensed the waters muddying within rather than clearing up, and pursed her lips.
“If you want to tell me what’s going on, you can.”
Your body tensed for a millisecond. You knew you could tell her anything, but this? Cheating on your fiancé so shamelessly right after the engagement? There were limits to human understanding, but then again, maybe admonishment from someone you trusted would get you on the right track.
You opened your mouth to speak but before you could offer up a single word, your mother rushed back into the room.
“Why’d you take off the dress before I could see it???” She fussed, and you grinned in response to her disappointed expression before switching back to the task at hand. 
“Quick, put it back on!”
You would spare sissy dear the awful details.
---
Hinata didn’t call or text for the following week, and by the fifth day, the phantom rings and vibrations of your cell phone had started to drive you crazy. It was hard to concentrate on your art, on tasks of daily life, or preparing your wedding when all you could see flash in your mind’s eyes was what he looked like when you were under him. You told yourself it was the afterglow of lust and would eventually pass.
As if to palliate the pain of your separation, Daichi started to come home earlier than usual, and it began with him popping home at exactly noon on the next Saturday with flowers just because, an assortment of chocolates and takeout from your favorite restaurant.
“Let’s have a picnic,” he suggested, with a kiss on the forehead for his best girl.
You turned off your phone as you followed him out to the small park down the street, spending the early afternoon basking in the sunshine of spring and the warmth of Daichi’s affectionate regard.
Daichi pulled you into his arms as usual as you watched children play in the park with furry companions, couples riding bicycles and old ladies exchange gossip (and maybe launch a few surreptitious glances at the two of you). While the two of you were not strangers to public displays of affection, you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to become uncomfortable the more you noticed people looking at you. You couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe suddenly they were seeing you not as a regular couple at the park but for who you really were: a woman with a terrible secret and a man who was none the wiser.
Did it matter if you chose to be good to him from now on? Would that account for the betrayal? 
Would that erase the fact that a small part of you wished Hinata was holding you right now instead?
---
Two weeks passed and you fought the urge to call Hinata Shoyo.
By now you knew it was something other than lust that drew you to him, now that Daichi took the time to satisfy the need for carnal intimacy every few nights, even if it wasn’t quite the passion of before, when you had just graduated from high school and all you had were your hopes for the future and each other, but a different type of practiced passion altogether between you.
Daichi knew all the things you liked and exactly how to make your body react in the way he wanted it to but while you were satisfied, you were still wanting. 
Of what? Could you really say it was Hinata that you needed after such a short time together?
Daichi’s lips and tongue trailed down your soft belly as he held on firmly to your wrists above you, teasing you with promises of entering your privacy every time his mouth drew near, then wandered back up to your bosom. 
“Not yet, darling, just wait for me like this.”
He leaned in, pressing his length against your thigh, forcing you to arch your back and buck against him, but he wouldn’t indulge you, laughing softly while his hold preventing you from reaching out to him remained steady.
“P-please, I want you, Daichi, just let me feel you, please.”
He had been edging you for the past twenty minutes but it felt more like hours and your body craved the feeling of fullness between your legs.
“You want to feel me, baby girl?” He growled, earning you a lash of the tongue right at your sex, sending a current through your spine.
“Yes...,” you let out a whimper, “please let me feel you.”
“This isn’t enough?” He asked, between licks and slurps of your wet cunt. “You taste so sweet for me, little baby, what if this is all I want to do now?”
Your mind swam with muddled pleasure as you closed your eyes and you were no longer thinking straight, all you had left in you was the ability to beg.
“Please, please put it inside me,” you continued to whine as he nibbled on one of your lower lips.
“Beg for Daddy’s cock,”  he said, now kissing your mouth again, a large hand now gripping both of your wrists to hold you back as he pressed against you, the pressure on your chest and the pressure of his member just knocking at your entrance making it hard for you to breathe.
“P-please stop teasing me, S-Shoyo.”
A pause.
“What?” Daichi’s voice had reverted back to his regular voice, no longer thick with lusty mischief but with confusion, and he stopped his movements, unsure as to what you were trying to say to him. His grip relaxed around your hands, setting you free.
Your heart stopped as a panic set in, sobering you up almost entirely and you had to think fast, fast, fast.
“C-can ‘shoyu’ be out safeword, babe? I just wanna try something today, something a little different...” you mumbled, surprising yourself with how quickly you could lie under pressure. Awful. You were so awful.
He gave you a confused look, given that you didn’t usually use safewords, but it wasn’t a bad idea anyway, and he nodded with a small shrug before resuming with kisses to your neck.
Your heart continued to pound and you hoped he didn’t notice that the drum of your heartbeat now played fear. That was a close one.
Something had to give soon.
---
The next day, Daichi seemed to have expedited that process for you.
“Hey, I’m gonna have Hinata come for dinner tomorrow night,” he called out from the shower casually as you started your skincare routine. If not for the fact that you were literally splashing cold water in your face, there would be no other reason for the ice now running through your veins.
“No problem right? I can come back early to help you make dinner beforehand.”
“... No problem.”
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