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#unsure if this needs a tag since it's all said in a very positive way but lmk if u want it tagged !! anon is on if u want it to ask !!
dandyshucks · 3 months
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was flipping thru sketchbook to find some blank space in older pages to fill in while i do some test doodles to figure out how to draw some characters, and oh my god fhdksl i started out drawing Guz so skinny 😭😭 i know i was just going off his canon design but damn bro !!! thats not my boy !!! he looks malnourished in comparison !!!!
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AITA for asking someone not to make my art about a ship I hate?
This happened a couple months ago, but I’m still kinda unsure if I handled it correctly.
Basic rundown of events: I posted some art of a character on their own in the evening, and when I woke up the next morning, someone had reblogged with an addition about a ship that’s a big notp for me. I messaged them to ask they delete it as politely as possible, because people had been interacting with that version of the post specifically and it made me uncomfortable. They responded by saying I was being immature and needed to learn not to police what other people do on the internet. We exchanged a couple more messages, and I tried to explain my position my throughly. Neither of us was overtly hostile or anything, but I felt extremely talked down to by their tone of voice. After our conversation, we both blocked each other, and that was that. They never did delete their addition.
Why I think I might be TA: we weren’t exactly friends or anything. Neither of us followed each other. I’d seen them around in the fandom, and they’d reblogged some of my art in the past, but I think messaging someone I didn’t know instead of just blocking them might have been a bit of an overreach. Plus the ship in question is canon, and not particularly controversial or anything, so most people in the fandom probably wouldn’t have minded.
On the other hand, the ship being so unavoidable is a big part of the reason it upset me so much. It’s hard for me to exist in this fandom without having to see it constantly, and I don’t even ever mention the other character in it for fear of this exact thing happening. I’ve had people be assholes on my posts about the ship I prefer, or go out of their way to interpret my romantic posts about them platonically, or add tags to my art about how they only like my ship as backstory and not endgame. I don’t want to have to put a disclaimer every single time I post about this fandom. I just want to enjoy the things I like without being negative all the time. Which is why I figured messaging privately was more polite than making a stink where everyone could see. I specifically mentioned that I knew they wouldn’t have known and wasn’t mad.
No one actually ended up reblogging their addition, which is also a strike against me, but I got a lot of likes on specifically that version of the post, which made me scared they were going to. I hated the idea of having to turn off reblogs on a piece I’d worked pretty fucking hard on because a version I found so upsetting was in circulation. If it was just tags, I’d have blocked, but it being an addition is different. I don’t think asking people not to make my posts about it is “policing what other people do on the internet”. You’re in MY house, on MY post with MY art I spent hours on. Making additions to art posts already seems somewhat rude to me, that’s just not something you do, but I guess that’s a matter of the corner of tumblr culture you’re used it.
Also, their response felt very aggressive and condescending. They implied I was, like, a kid, and I do think I’m somewhat younger than them, but the only information about my age in my bio at the time was that I’m an adult, so it felt like a rude assumption. My age doesn’t have anything to do with it.
Again, though, I do absolutely see how my initial message could read as entitled. During the rest of our messaging, I did lose my temper a little bit at one point; I said something about how I’ve had to deal with shit in this fandom before, and I don’t remember the exact words since, again, we both blocked each other, but I know I swore at them. That might’ve come across as more aggressive than I wanted, and probably didn’t exactly help deescalate. (Can’t say for sure, I don’t have their side of the story)
Like I said, this situation was a bit ago now, but it upset me pretty bad at the time, and I’m still not entirely sure who’s in the wrong. So, AITA?
(Also to get ahead of this: please don’t make this about shipcourse in the comments. It’s not about that. They and I have similar opinions on that discourse from what I’ve gathered anyway. Thanks.)
What are these acronyms?
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biaswreckme · 16 days
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he a pro rider | namkook
He's a pro rider, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, rider Must bе an A1 guider or Jungkook asks Namjoon to help him be a pro rider.
Pairing: Namjoon/Jungkook
Member: Namjoon, Jungkook
Length: 1245 words
Genre: Smut
Rating: Explicit/18+
Triggers/Warnings/Tags: getting together, namjoon has a big dick, fingering, anal sex, bottom jungkook, top namjoon,
You can read it on: AO3
Hot breaths mingling and a desperate kiss with clashing tongues after an unexpected message asking Namjoon to teach him how to be just like the guy he talked about in his new song. Namjoon was confused for a moment, unclear as to what Jungkook meant, especially with texting, which song he was referring to. But when he asked for clarification, he could not help but be shocked at first, not expecting this. In reality, it had been a long time coming; Namjoon suspected of Jungkook’s feelings for a while, and he had his own to sort through, but the message was enough confirmation for him. Because the message that Namjoon received was “I want you, hyung. I have wanted, for a long time.” And so did he.
When they finally managed to schedule a break that was during the same weekend and visit home, they wasted no time. Clothes were haphazardly thrown over Namjoon’s pristine apartment, almost knocking down a couple of priceless - actually, extremely expensive - artwork around the living room on the way to the bedroom. The bag with lube and condoms that Namjoon had gotten on the way home was still on the bed and they almost sat on it, crushing everything. They laughed and paused, looking at each other properly for the first time since they rushed into deep kisses and undressing.
There was a certain sense of urgency in their actions, for they only had the weekend to enjoy each other’s bodies and were unsure when they would be able to meet next with this much privacy. But for now, for this exact minute in time, they could stop to gaze into each other’s eyes, words not enough to convey what they were feeling, and at Jungkook’s nod, Namjoon’s lips met his again, hands caressing the younger’s body. Namjoon turned him over on the bed, pressing open mouthed kisses along Jungkook’s back, going lower and lower with each passing second, while the younger’s hands grabbed the pillows, arching into Namjoon’s touch. 
“Fuck,” Namjoon said softly when he spread Jungkook’s cheeks, realizing the younger was already opening up for him so easily.
“I prepped already, hyung,” he explained, a beautiful flush coloring his cheeks and chest.
Silently, Namjoon grabbed the lube and coated his fingers generously, slowly pressing two of them inside Jungkook, his digits finding no resistance. But they were still not enough, and when he inserted a third finger slowly, it was a tight fit. “Jungkook-ah, I’m going to have to open you up more. At least one more finger, ok?”
“Fuck, yes, I knew you were big from all the times we had to change in front of each other and everything, but I didn’t know you would be this fucking huge when hard.”
Carefully and oh so very slowly so as not to hurt him, Namjoon gently started fingering him, teasingly pressing into that spot that made Jungkook see stars to distract him from the fourth finger prying him even more open. It was an almost obscene sight whenever Namjoon pulled his fingers back, seeing Jungkook’s hole stretched open and pulsing for him.
“I'm ready, hyung, just let me ride you, please,” Jungkook begged, trying to turn on the bed to change positions.
And so they did, Namjoon’s back to the headboard, sitting up, needing to have Jungkook’s torso close to him. Later they could do it again more slowly, they would use their mouths to bring each other to the brink of pleasure and back, but now there was almost a necessity to unite their bodies. While Jungkook got on his knees, getting into position, Namjoon ripped open the condom and rolled it down his erection, coating it liberally with lube. He usually did not like it messy, but he didn’t even think about it; quick and messy and intense fit the mood then. When Jungkook got closer, Namjoon put his hands on his hips, helping guide him down, down, down, inch by inch, the younger’s eyes closed and open mouth letting small whimpers of pleasure escape. 
But Jungkook didn’t move immediately and Namjoon had to take deep breaths alongside him, their rhythms matching, one adjusting to being spread open like that for the first time, and the other for feeling something clenching so tight around himself. And then Jungkook started moving slowly, at first, just small movements to get him used to the size, moving his hips in small circular motions, feeling every single inch of Namjoon inside him, his dancer body - now a fighter body, tighter, bigger muscles, just like his own - finding a good flow and cadence. Their lips met in a kiss, deep and languid just like their bodies moving, the passing of time outside freezing just for this moment.
Pleasure started building, and so did Jungkook started chasing it, pressing his knees firmly on the mattress and using it to help him move up and down, circling his hips when their hips met, Namjoon’s hands caressing his back, his arms, his thighs, aiding him in the chase. 
“Let me… here,” Namjoon helped him adjust his position, making it easier on the younger’s knees and making a slight change in the angle of his hips, “want to feel me even deeper?” Jungkook just nodded his head, eyes wide open at the possibility. “Get on your feet instead of on your knees, yeah, like that,” he said, helping in the balance, “now lower your body and I’ll help you move up and down. You’ll feel me in your throat this way.”
If Jungkook already wasn’t really verbal before, now his words were stuck at his throat, staccato loud moans uncontrollably leaving his mouth as he did indeed feel like Namjoon’s cock was so deep he could feel it there, the older’s strong hands holding him by his asscheeks, spreading him even more and impaling him down on his erection. With the way Namjoon was pulling and pushing Jungkook’s body on top, his erection managed to graze the younger’s g-spot every time he pulled him down to clash their pelves.
“Are you going to come untouched for me, Jungkook-ah? Feels so good riding you don’t need anything else?” Namjoon asked, teasing him gently, seeing the other so lost in pleasure his eyes seemed to be almost glazed over, his only focus riding Namjoon’s cock hard and fast now, barely listening to what he said.
And then Namjoon could feel it, Jungkook getting impossibly tighter and tighter, clenching hard on him until he shouted, pleasure overtaking his body, the older’s hands helping him move as the only thing keeping nim from collapsing from the intensity of his untouched orgasm, never having felt a sensation so intense before, clouding all his senses. With the way his hips were kept moving just as hard as before only served to prolong and heighten his pleasure, barely even noticing Namjoon chasing and achieving his own high. He didn’t even notice Namjoon gently helping him straighten his legs on the bed and off his lap, getting comfortable and cleaning him up, waiting for him to come back to himself after what felt like an almost out of the body experience. 
“Am I close to being a pro rider yet, hyung?” Jungkook asked softly, finally catching his breath.
Namjoon chuckled, still dazed and amazed by the whole situation. “Yes, you are. Although we might need to do it again just to be sure and to train you even more to complete perfection.”
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sacrificesapnap · 2 years
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My all-time favourite DNF fanfiction
Over the last year and a half, I have read almost every single DNF fic that has been posted to AO3, yet ended up with a rec list with just over 10 fics. These are my favourite favourite DNF fics. If you think I’ve missed something - let me know!! I always need new fanfic to read :)
This list will be updated when I find something that I think deserves a top spot. Please make sure you read tags before reading, because a lot of these will have adult content and other possibly triggering subjects. I hope you enjoy!
Heat Waves by tbhyourelame
Word count :  51,840
Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.
This is an obvious recommendation but how could I actually make a fic rec list without putting heatwaves on it. It has great characterisation, a lot of the plot is true to real life or close to real life, and it has a painfully accurate amount of overthinking and pining. Heatwaves itself is finished, however the sequel Helium is a WIP, which the author has said they currently have no plans of finishing. Either way, it’s well worth reading, and a must-read to anyone new to the fandom or new to reading fics. 
When by hayloftown
Word count :  163,493
Trust doesn't come easily, but fear does. Dream was dealt a bad hand, who can blame him for his hostility? Or, in which Dream comes from a bad background and finds safety in a new home. Whether that "home" be the place or the people, he is unsure.
God, hayloftown’s fics are incredible. I am not joking when I tell you I have never cried more at a book or fanfic EVER. It was devastating. That being said I literally had to read it in one sitting. This fic describes complex emotions, feelings and especially bonds between people incredibly, and it is so enjoyable to watch dream’s character develop throughout. I actually felt hollow after reading this, because by the end I loved all the characters so much I never wanted it to end. This fic has some pretty heavy themes, so please read tags before reading this one. 
Stars, Stripes and Aristocratic Snobs by hayloftown
Word count :  122,536
Even hundreds of years since their historical wars over independence, American politics and British royalty still struggle to get along, as seen in the rivalry between first son Clay “Dream” Chapman and Prince George of Wales. After a week long trip to the UK after the "tragic" passing of Prince Charles, the successor to the throne and Prince George's father, the two are forced to get along and put forth a better front for the ever-present media.
It’s only fair to have two works by hayloftown on this list, because they are both favourites of mine. I am such a sucker for royalty au’s (prepare to lots more on this list) so this was perfect to me. The summary says everything you need to know about this fic, so I won’t say too much, but I really enjoyed George and Dream’s dynamic in this fic, and I’m a slut for george in a position of power (sorry not sorry). 
I’ve Never Fallen From Quite This High by Scoops (consciousness_streaming)
Word count :  92,419
A phone call out of the blue after two months in Florida turns George's life up side down. As one relationship falls apart, another falls together.
This fic is soooo good. Without spoiling too much, George deals with his parents’ relationship problems whilst developing a relationship with dream (I’m telling you this because I had this in my marked for later for ages and I didn’t read it because I was scared the aforementioned relationship that was falling apart was karlnap lol). If you love family dynamics and domestic fluff this is a must read. George’s mum is the main character in this honestly she’s such an icon, but I just love the dynamic between all the characters in this. 10/10 would recommend. 
The mon cœur s'ouvre à ta voix series by saintaches
Word count : 108,775 across three works
Dream and George attend the same prestigious conservatoire, and they fucking hate each other.
I will admit that I originally clicked on this fic for the porn. However, after reading the plot that came with the porn, it turned into one of my favourite fics ever. It’s so beautifully written, a bit purple prosey at times, and is honestly art in writing form. Honestly parts of these works are a little devastating, but its worth it for the development of both dream and George individually and their relationship. 
Metanoia by 24notfound
Word count :  246,211
Following the death of Queen of Salacia, George is thrown into kingship. And in reluctantly preparing for an indefinite war on the account of avenging his mother, George's vision seems to get blurred by the unlikely and unexpected bond he forms with the Prince of Vulcan: Dream.
Honestly this is just the perfect fantasy dnf fic, combining royalty and war with elemental powers. Aside from all the family dynamics and dnf’s actual relationship, the two things that I loved the most in this fic were the relationship between George, Karl and Quackity and their wonderful outfit’s and parties. Another perfect work. 
as for praise and worship by squigly
Word count :  121,006
George is a detective working for Scotland Yard investigating a string of art thefts linked to grisly murders. Dream is a gambler who knows more than he lets on. They can't stay away from each other, even when they should.
This is such a wonderful plot heavy story, and the way squigly created this world and developed the story around Dream and George’s characters will have you gripped from the first chapter. Honestly, this story deserves to be published as a novel, it just has such an immersive and exciting storyline that I have no doubt you will read this in one setting (just like I did).
for you, the stars by andthentheybow
Word count :  115,149
There is exactly one person in the entire universe that knows Doctor George Davidson is alive, and that’s George himself. Even with everything against him- starvation, damaged machinery, the environment, and human error- he’s determined to not become the first person to die on Mars. And once they find out he’s alive, his crew resolves to do everything they can to bring him home.
When I first read the description for this fic I was not expecting to love it as much as I do simply because the situation is so far removed from both cc!dnf and c!dnf that it didn’t feel like it would work. However, their characters in this are so true to real life, and the astronauts have to face publicity and pressure from the public. I love this because I feel like georges intelligence gets lost all the time in fanfiction, but hes appreciated in all his genius glory here, pure bamf George through and through. Good bit of angst and pining, a side of karlnap, and really funny roles for a lot of the other smp members, this is just a really enjoyable read.
Reflections by darlingsdream
Word count :  128,341
In which Dream is assigned as Prince George's new personal guard and finds that it is surprisingly easy to fall for the royal with the spunky attitude but incredibly hard to keep his secrets from him.
This is a perfect Prince!George / Knight!Dream story. It has lots of plot twists and angst but its worth it for such a good story. If you love fantasy or the dynamic between princes and their guard, you will love this. I need to reread this asap tbh.
cinnamon and swirl by offday
Word count :  83,327
Sapnap stays quiet a moment, and while Dream sniffles, the little girl in his lap turns, taps against his face like the tears are common. Dream kisses at her hand, promises her he is okay. He acts like nothing is wrong. Like Sapnap isn’t crying in front of him too, when he should be scolding Dream.
“Why didn’t you?” Sapnap asks as he swipes the back of his hand over his nose. “I mean, not even George?”
Dream decides to tell his friends about his daughter right before they move in.
This is hands down the best DNF kid fic ever!! For some reason, I much prefer kid fics where one person is a single parent and the other person joins them later on. This fic is just perfect. I love that it’s not an AU (other than the fact dream is a dad), I live for uncle Sapnap and dreamnap’s friendship and I would die for protective dad!dream like that’s so attractive are you kidding me. I don’t care if you don’t normally like kid fics, read this now!!
Protected by Anonymous 
Word Count :  102,200
Dream is the Crown Prince and the future king. His sworn duty is to protect his kingdom from outside threats, especially from the scourge of magic.
George is his best friend and, technically, his servant. And he has a secret.
I wish the author of this fic would reveal themselves because I would die to read more of their work. Anyway. I love this so so much. It’s a merlin AU fic where George has magic in a kingdom where magic is banned. Another great one for anyone that likes royalty au’s and once again it has a healthy amount of pining and angst all mixed in with fluff and fantasy and ugh I love it. A lot of fantasy fics are heavy on dream protecting George but I love the dynamic in this where magic George is secretly protecting dream and saving his life. To be honest this fic lives in my head rent-free sometimes. Even if you think this won’t be your cup of tea please just give it a try because it’s so good!
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ofsvnshine · 3 months
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lee jong suk, cis man, 34 / 340 , daemati high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems CHOI DOHYUN has finally made it to the capital, the SPYMASTER from WINTER COURT is said to be CLEVER and is said to describe themselves with THE BITTER WINDS OF WINTER'S MORNING, WHISPERS OF OLD WOUNDS UPON YOUR SKIN, EMBRACING THE DARKNESS TO BECOME LIMITLESS  and with all of this in mind their RUTHLESS nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.
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statistics :
label: the cataclysmic. 
positive traits: clever, attentive, determined.
negative traits: ruthless, aloof, quiet.
orientation: bisexual, biromantic.
gender: cis man ( he / him pronouns ).
age: 34 340.
species: daemati high fae.
profession: spymaster.
court: winter.
abilities: immortality, winnowing, astral projection, ice manipulation, mind control, infiltration & shattering.
mbti: istj.
zodiac: scorpio.
noteworthy features: scars littering his arms and torso from previous confrontations and wounds, tattoo on his forearm from a bargain that he much rather not speak about, typically with deep bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.
introduction :
violence tw, isolation tw, abuse tw, muder tw
you were the only son of the most well known and hired hitman within the winter court, perhaps even within all of prythian.
you never knew of your mother and you learned very early on to not ask questions about her, her memory forever remaining nothing more than a distant image, a part never truly unlocked in your brain.
despite having a child, your father refused to let anything keep him from his work. you were much more of an inconvenience to him rather than anything else, but perhaps a foolish sense of pride is what kept him from handing you off to someone far more equipped to raise you. so you were brought along, tagging along to places that no child should have ever been, seeing things that no child ever should have. but you didn't know any different, and your father was your world. all you ever wanted was to make him happy.
once he discovered your ability, you quickly become more of a weapon than a boy or a son to him. you now had a purpose for him, a reason to be there and no longer just an inconvenience amidst his travels. so he tirelessly trained you, needing your powers to be stronger than ever for when it came to interrogating strangers to find the whereabouts of whoever he had been hired to find, your powers making it far more easier than doing so before.
and since you were always on the move with your father, you never had any semblance of stability. you never had a home. you never grew up socializing with children your age, the only one who taught you anything was your father and therefore your education is severely limited beyond physical strength and the bare necessities. in social situations you feel out of place, out of practice and unsure how to contribute to conversations effectively.
you didn't realize just how much of a disservice that your father did until you both were brought in to the presence of the high family as your father's skills were needed with the sudden open position of the spymaster of the winter court.
while there you began to realize just how abnormal your childhood was. you began to realize just how much your father used you, crafted you into the weapon rather than man.
and you felt lost. violence and turbulence was all you knew. and as usual, with violence was the only way you knew how to solve things.
you used your powers on your father, just as he taught you, leading to his death. you took his position immediately, the only thing you felt you were really ever going to be good at.
and you are. you are highly feared and respected as the spymaster of the winter court. you are able to get information out of people incredibly easy with your powers and use it to your advantage. you are incredibly loyal to the high lady, especially after the loss of her family.
you are lost without a sense of purpose, a sense of someone to answer to without your father so you throw all of your time into your work. and as much as you hate your father, with each day you fear you are becoming more and more like him.
the invitation to the capital is an extremely welcomed one. while the more reserved side of you is anxious about being around so many people, the change of scenery is much needed. you're still searching for your real purpose, perhaps you'll find it there.
wanted connections:
idk someone give him a kiss he needs it ( no but fr someone who is a good influence on him and can see past the big scary facade he puts up and find the real person behind it all bc he deserves that. ill sob thanks ), best friend / confidant, enemies, ex friends, the person he has a bargain with !! idk i just figure its spicy and there's some drama involved but we can plot specifics bc i didn't get that far, opposites attract friendship, more tbd !
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pertinax--loculos · 1 year
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Word Find Tag
The marvellous @drabbleitout tagged me recently to find the words rain, firm, garbage and regret, and I’m on a roll with these tags so I figured why the hell not. :D
Before that, I’m gonna tag back @drabbleitout, plus @artdecosupernova-writing, @isherwoodj, @winterandwords, @blind-the-winds​, @mariahwritesstuff​ and @oh-no-another-idea​ to find the words crumb, next, connect, secure, and refer.
Taking from CASCADE and INUNDATE, as is my wont atm! Focusing on TJ and Flint POVs cuz, well, cuz. *shrug*
rain pour CASCADE -- TJ POV
“Morning,” TJ said, skirting around her as he headed for the kettle.
“Hey.” Natasha paused to stir something vigorously, and then poured the resulting viscous liquid into a pan. “Pancakes?”
Fortunately TJ’s eyes were on his mug; she couldn’t see his wince. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”
“Teej. You know breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
TJ turned around, mug in hand, to find her staring at him, hands on her hips. The smile that crept onto his face felt almost genuine. “I still maintain that was nothing more than a marketing tactic dreamed up by the breakfast food folks.”
“The breakfast food folks?” Natasha raised her eyebrows. “You mean like major cereal companies or something?”
“Sure, why not? Maybe the fruit growers. Probably bacon… manufacturers. It’s a whole conspiracy.”
Natasha was fighting to keep her face straight and failing. “You do know bacon isn’t manufactured, right?”
firm CASCADE -- TJ POV
The ridiculousness of that notion was only matched by the other option, which was that she was planning on sharing a room — and a bed — with TJ.
Twelve months ago that idea wouldn’t have been ridiculous at all. They’d been friends for a very long time, acknowledged that it would never be anything more than platonic love between them for almost the same amount of time. Sharing a bed on an assignment had been a nonevent, a semi-regular occurrence that was as prosaic as eating dinner together in their lounge room.
Flint had changed all that. And TJ had been positive it would never go back to the way it was.
“Are you—”
Natasha interrupted him, firm but not sharp. “It’s fine, TJ. Just don’t complain when I steal all the covers.”
TJ wouldn’t. He never would again.
garbage trash CASCADE -- TJ POV
Julius all but snatched the coffee away from him when he returned to the main room, his eyes dropping closed as he took a large mouthful. TJ smiled a little as he passed Natasha hers, then offered the tray to Delta. He examined the remaining two paper cups like TJ was offering him a live snake.
“I haven’t poisoned them,” TJ said, a little dryly.
Delta tilted his head a little as he considered him. “I would have noticed if you did.”
TJ arched an eyebrow, unsure how to otherwise respond.
“It’s fine, Delta,” Julius said. TJ glanced at him in time to see him drain the remainder of his cup; he bared his teeth in what looked like distaste. “Actually, that’s a lie, it’s fucking shit coffee, but it’s better than nothing.”
Delta didn’t look convinced, but he plucked a cup from the tray with a nod. TJ wasn’t sure why that made him feel so fucking triumphant.
Julius walked over to toss his cup in the trash, and swiped a brief off the coffee table as he returned to the corner of the room. Delta joined him, standing close enough that their shoulders almost touched, craning his neck to see the pages; after a beat Julius turned the folder very slightly towards him.
TJ hid a smile as he reclaimed his seat next to Natasha on the couch.
regret CASCADE -- TJ POV
“Okay,” Bishop called, silencing the room immediately. People swivelled where they stood so they were facing him; not that they needed to, given that he didn’t raise his eyes from his clipboard. “Monthly allocations.”
Something unpleasantly like anxiety squirmed in TJ’s stomach. It had been a long time since he’d felt that. It had been a long time since he’d had to wonder which entrustees he and Natasha would be paired with for the month. Though he shouldn’t really be concerned. They’d dealt with Delta without any issues; after that, the rest of the entrustees should be a cakewalk.
And it wasn’t like the writhing in his stomach could be anything other than anxiety.
Like, it certainly wasn’t regret.
God, his head hurt.
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bluemusickid · 3 years
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Ok so I have been this fantasy about Chris Evans lately... the reader and he are friends and Chris has a girlfriend but she’s not satisfying him in the bedroom and you guys get a little tipsy one night and you end up making all his naughty dreams a reality... and there will be lots of dirty talk like, “she can’t make you feel like this... or does her mouth feel as good as my mouth does, etc”... I need you to work your smutty magic on this one! Could be for any of his characters too! Whatever you’d prefer! ❤️
As much as I abhor cheating........this is a sexy one. Thanks for this one, nonnie!!
Pairing:  Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+, SMUT, SMUUT, NSFW, minors DNI, drunk sex, dubcon (if you squint).
A/N: wHEW, this one was a toughie. I wanted to draw the line somewhere lol, but oh well. Hope you like it! MINORS PLS DNI. Not beta’ed, all mistakes are my own. You are responsible for your media consumption. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
This is my entry to my own challenge (lol). The colour I have chosen is red, which symbolises passion, danger, excitement. <3
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You took a swig from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste, the sight in front of you even more bitter than the drink itself. It would have to be your worst luck that Andy Barber was here at the party, but his girlfriend as well? Killed you.
It was especially worse since you had a humongous crush on him, which didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried. It was even worse that you had to act normal around him at work, for fear of being mocked or ridiculed by your coworkers.
Andy Barber had completely encompassed your world and was a part of every waking moment. You watched him get tipsier as time passed, dancing around with his friends, his girl not leaving his side even once. If looks could kill, she’d be dead by now.
Deciding that you needed some air, you stepped out, only faltering a bit as the alcohol was steadily making itself known. Trying to light a cigarette, you heard a few voices from the garage. Your good manners were screaming at you not to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it. The liquid courage was winning over.
“So she doesn’t go down on you?” a voice asked. You raised your eyebrows at the question.
“Uh..” you heard the answering voice sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. Oh my gosh it was Andy. You waited with bated breath for his answer, not knowing what to expect.
"I mean we're happy with each other, she's a great girl, very kind and she's great with Jacob. But there's just no spark." He trailed off, slurring a bit at the end.
You didn't know what to feel about this little tidbit you heard; your brain was telling you that it was wrong to feel good but your senses, your mind was in jubilation. You scuttled off inside before you were caught, this new piece of information even more intoxicating than the alcohol.
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You stumbled your way into a bedroom, trying desperately to find a washroom. Why was this place so goddamn big? You mused, relieving yourself, the earlier conversation playing in your head on loop. Shaking yourself mentally, you realised there was nothing you could do about it.
Stepping out, you nearly fell as you bumped into something, your foot getting caught in the doorframe. Strong arms grab onto your biceps, steadying you as you managed to straighten yourself. You looked up to thank the stranger, instead finding yourself looking into the eyes of your dream man.
"Are you ok?" He muttered, his voice soft against your ears. You inhaled sharply, your core tightening in response.
"I am now that you're here." You rasped, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. Did you just say that? You had no game, generally.
He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent coworker?"
Mesmerized, you gaze at him in wonder. "Who said anything about me being innocent? I'm not a goody two shoes, I'm different." He looked at you, mildly amused. "Oh yeah? What makes you different?"
"Well, for starters, I know how to go down on my man." You whispered in his ear, moving past him, your hip brushing against his.
You had no time to register when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his chest colliding against your back. You gasped, turning around to face him, annoyance etched on his face. “What did you say?” he growled, his breath fanning your face.
Smirking, you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the crinkle between his eyebrows. “The walls have ears too, you know.” you murmured, stepping closer to him. The rough material of his pants was grazing your thigh, your core throbbing with need now.
Running a finger down his torso, you stopped at the button of his jeans, looking into his eyes, wanting some reaction. Silently, you softly palmed him through his jeans, revelling in the sharp intake of his breath. You looked up at him, for permission to continue, acceptance slowly seeping into his eyes.
Undoing his zipper, you graze your fingers over his boxers, the tent in his underwear causing your core to clench. 
“Can she get you this hard with just one touch?" You softly whispered, running your nose along his. He closed his eyes, his palms closing into a fist. You could feel him mentally warring with his emotions, his body betraying him.
You entangled your lips with his, tugging on his lower lip, as you pulled down his underwear. "I bet she can't do this."
You ran your tongue in one single strip along his length, the tip of your tongue circling around the tip of his member. He moaned softly, his hands undulating, as he tried to stop himself from burying them into your hair. Grinning salaciously, you said, "Answer me, Andy. Can she?"
He gulped, his mouth thinning into a line. "No." He muttered, through gritted teeth. That's just what you wanted to hear. And so you began your amorous assault, taking him in your mouth till he was buried to the hilt. You swirled your tongue, letting your underside work his length. He groaned, his hands finally making their way into your hair, his resolve now fully broken. Bobbing your head around his length, you could feel him slowly thrusting deeper into your mouth.
Suddenly, he pulled you up, throwing you over his shoulder and dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Stunned, you were about to retort, but were cut off by his insistent lips. Gathering your wrists in one hand, he tried to tug off your panties, his impatience winning over as he tore them off, the material dangling limply from one of your legs. He circled your nub, his need to be within you ebbing steadily.
Bracing himself on his arms, his fingers locking with yours, he thrust into you in one move, leaving you breathless. His eyes trained onto you, seeing every emotion on your face, spurred him on, as he pounded into you. There was no other way to describe it except frantic coupling. Crossing your ankles, you pushed him deeper, the new angle hitting your front wall, your thighs quivering from the sensory overload. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked thoroughly, like a whore?". You gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts, the depth and intensity in his eyes scaring you a bit. "Drop the act, sweetheart. I've seen you in office, swaying those fuckin' hips, batting your eyelashes. Don't act like you didn't want my cock in your pretty pussy, fucking you till you wept."
His words made you feel ashamed but in the deepest, darkest part of your heart, they turned you on like nothing else. They fed your libido, which was already wound tightly around his manhood. This man had you wound around his pinky, but you didn't mind. If that was the cost you had to pay to make him yours, you would pay it.
Pushing your legs up, he let go of your hands to caress your swollen bud. You screamed as the new position left you seeing stars, your legs nearly losing sensation, a warmth seeping through your body. Your silky walls grasped him tightly, to the point where you became one, as he shouted his release. Pulling out, he panted as he glanced at the sight in front of him; your overstimulated lips swollen and wet, messy from your intermingling fluids. He cleaned you up with a wet washcloth as you dozed, leaving as quietly as he could.
You woke up after some time, your limbs and pussy sore, you relishing the ache. You didn't see Andy anywhere, but you did see your clothes neatly kept in a pile at the foot of the bed. You were just about to reach for them when your phone dinged with a message alert. Bemused, you checked and saw it was from Andy.
"See you in office, sweetheart. P.S. Wear a skirt. Don't be late."
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Part 2
Tags: @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @ozarkthedog @savior-adriana @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @denisemarieangelina @chris-butt @patzammit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @worksby-d @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @bigchoose @violentyoshi 
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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years
Text
Seven Drinks
Bucky x f!reader
Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.
Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)
Word Count: 4322
a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!
Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.
Masterlist
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"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"
"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.
"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.
The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.
Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"
"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.
You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."
Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.
"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.
"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.
"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"
"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.
"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.
"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.
"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.
--
As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.
"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."
"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.
"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.
"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.
--
Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.
You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.
"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.
"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.
"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.
"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.
"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.
You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"
The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.
-
"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.
"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."
He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.
"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.
-
About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.
"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.
"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.
"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.
"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.
Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.
"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.
Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."
"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.
-
You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.
Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.
You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.
-
"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"
Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.
He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.
"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.
You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.
"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.
"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.
"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.
"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.
Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.
"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"
"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.
"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.
"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.
Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.
He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.
You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.
"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."
"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.
"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.
With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.
My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.
I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.
I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."
Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.
"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.
I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.
I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.
I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."
The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.
"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.
My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.
I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.
I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.
I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.
God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."
Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.
"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."
Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.
"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."
Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"
"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.
Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."
"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."
"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.
You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.
"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.
You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"
Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.
"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."
His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."
"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.
"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."
Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.
"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.
"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.
"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.
"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.
"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.
--
The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.
You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.
"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.
The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.
You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.
"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.
You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.
As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.
"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.
"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.
"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.
"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."
"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.
"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.
"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.
"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.
"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.
"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."
"I love you too."
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80s4life · 3 years
Text
God Help Me*
Word Count: 2,306
Status: Not Requested!
Fandom: Orange Is The New Black
A/N: Just watched some more of oitnb and felt that Joe was an underrated character. So, here's something dirty for the dirty dog!
Relationship: Joe Caputo x Female Reader
Summary: (Based loosely on S3:E7 (”Tongue-Tied”) where the new recruits for security are supposed to be getting the 40 hours of training, but denied by the new employers. Specifically, when Bayley makes his mistake with the pepper spray incident, Caputo is outraged, in the need of a break. Luckily, you know how to ease his tension.
Warnings: language, age-gap pairing, against laws, forbidden, smut, retardation name calling (once, not me though, a line from the show!)
Taglist: @intersellars-the-networks-of-eve @snapessecretdiary
Masterlist Orange Is The New Black Masterlist
{gif is not mine, credits to @thompsonconnors}
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"What the fuck was that?" Joe Caputo asks, confused and struggling to keep up with the messes every corner he turns. "You assess the situation and you respond with the appropriate level of force! And you never, ever, ever discharge your weapon unless it's absolutely necessary!" he continues, not done just yet. "And if you do, and that weapon happens to be pepper spray, you better damn well make sure you're upwind!"
Bayley, the new recruit, alongside Donaldson, a long-term member of this prison, look down, ashamed of themselves. Blinking their eyes every so often, the pain in their eyes searing with the combination of the regret in how they got in this position in the first place and the stinging pepper spray.
Motioning towards Bayley, Caputo continues with his mantra, "You are a trigger-happy knucklehead who just got out of diapers," now turning his attention to Donaldson, "But you, how could you let this happen?" he finishes, exasperated.
Donaldson, finding some courage, fires back, "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not a nanny." He may have screwed up, but he is not putting his life on the line for an idiot.
"No! You are an officer with 20 plus years' experience, and your job was to impart some wisdom on fucking Baby Huey over here!" Caputo spits, motioning towards Bayley once more.
"Well, this is what happens when you put untrained officers in gen pop," Donaldson says once more, although very quickly and almost fearfully. As if he were a child talking back to his parents.
"You don't think I know that? I fucking know that!" Caputo says once more, placing a hand over his head, letting out a tired sigh as he walks back behind his desk. "Bayley, I should be firing your ass," he motion towards the young man with two pointed fingers.
"I know," is all he manages meekly.
"But, it's your first day, so I'm gonna chalk this up to mental retardation. If you so much as look at an inmate wrong in the next week, you're out of here!" Caputo motions with a "whoosh." Now looking Bayley up and down in disbelief, he catches the small paper taped to his chest as well, "Take that stupid fucking name tag off."
As the men nod once more, he finishes with, "Now go! Get your asses down to medical and get an eyewash. And read the stupid fucking manuals!" he grunts, shaking the book in question and slamming it on his desk as the officers leave.
Throwing himself into his chair, he almost considers kicking and flailing around like a child in order to let off steam, but he is quickly denied the chance as you knock and burst through his office within a second.
“Sir.”
“What is it now?” he asks quietly, a hand holding his head up by his chin, fingers covering his now closed eyes.
“Well- uhm- well...” you continue, quite nervous as you don’t know where his hostility had come from, you being unsure whether it was your doing or not. It was uncharted waters you weren’t sure on stepping into or not.
“What. Is. It!?” he yells now, eyes wide open, hands clutching the ends of his armrests. Making you yelp and jump a bit, taking a few steps back into the doorway.
Seeing this reaction, he sighs once more, taking in your wide eyes and slightly tense posture, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s been a long day, okay?”
“I-I understand sir.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Joe, or Caputo if that’s what floats your boat?” he says, an attempt to coax you out of your startled state.
“I’m sorry s- Caputo. I only wanted to tell you that I bought ya’ something. A little gift, I guess.” you say, a blush tinting your cheeks.
“What? You didn’t have to get me anything!” He smiles now, relieving you, and bringing a smile to your own features at his now somewhat upbeat mood.
“Well, ya’ know...I remember you telling me about a band of yours, right?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he smirks, looking back at fond memories and the new ones with his new band.
“Well, since your style of music was rock, and I just so happened to be in the area of a new music store, I found some goodies there!” Pulling a seat in front of his desk, you grab the wrapped presents from the waistband of your belt, having hidden it behind your back in attempt to completely surprise him.
He smiles at your childish antics, lightly taking the wrapped good from your small, delicate hands. Unwrapping the smallest one, he finds a box underneath the covers. Opening it, his smile grows bigger as his eyes meet a black guitar pick, a skull etched into it and painted white. 
His eyes meet yours for a second, a fondness there, looking back down once more as he admires it. “I love it,” he says after a second.
“That’s not all!” you say, excited now as he already likes one of the things you’ve picked out for him, pulling out a medium-sized present next. You take this sudden change of attitude as a sign, wanting to hopefully ease the stresses the guards and staff have been taking, especially Joe.
Taking it from your hands once more, your hands make contact, the blush on your face intensifying a little more. Unwrapping the present, he finds a black bandanna, his band name printed onto it, matching the guitar pick. He giggles at this, tying it around his head for your view.
You laugh as well as you go to hand him the biggest and last of the presents, his eyes lighting up once he finds what it is. “Nu-uh! You didn’t! This must’ve cost a fortune!” he almost yells now, a genuine leather guitar strap in his grip as he jumps up from his seat.
“No, actually they gave me a little discount on it. It took a lot of searching to get the one you’ve been specifically looking for, but the guy said I was cute- anyway! I just thought you needed these since work has been beating your ass,” you say, smirking lightly.
“You didn’t need to do this,” he says, settling back into his seat as he grasps your hands lightly, still star-struck as he looks at the strap still in his hand.
The gesture was innocent, but as time goes on, you blush a deep red, him still not letting go of your hands. Noticing this, he goes to pull away, clearing his throat, standing, and straightening out his suit. There, you notice a slight tent in his pants, igniting a flame in your belly. 
“Well, thank you Miss Y/L/N, these were very nice...”
“Anytime...” you say slyly, dragging on your words as you stand as well, not bothering to fix your pants as it sticks tightly to your ass and thighs. 
He looks down, gulping as he takes in your curves he usually tries to ignore, clearing his throat once more as his eyes meet yours. Only now did he realize the close proximity between the two of you, you intending to lean in and fix his tie. As you do so, he grabs your hand, pulling it away, “Don’t tempt me. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Oh, I’m pretty damn sure I do,” you say as you pull him down to your height by the tie, pulling at the base of his neck, kissing him now. 
Breaking apart for a moment, you make your way around the desk, perching yourself atop it as you pull him between your legs, kissing him once more. Tongues fighting for dominance, you tease him, sucking on it, and nibbling on his lips. He growls, the tent now very evident in his pants, the tightness an annoying constriction.
He pulls away once more, going to lock his office door, having placed a ‘On a lunch break’ sign above his name. Making his way back over to you, his lips attach to yours once more, moving to remove your weaponry belt. You do the same, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt, moving to leave kisses, bites and hickeys. 
Continuing your attack, you move your hand to his belt, working quickly as he unbuttons your shirt, exposing your constricted, perky breasts. He grunts once more, adding to your eagerness as you finally get his belt out of the loops. Now both full of impatience, you unleash his cock, him doing the same for your breasts and pants. Completely removing everything from your being, leaving your half-unbuttoned shirt.
Not wasting time, he starts to work your clit, moisturizing ever bit of you as he collects it and moves his finger in all the most special parts, lubricating your core with ease. You grip his cock, teasing it as you run your finger along the slit at the top, precum already oozing. Looking him in the eyes, you notice his golden browns now a dark chocolate eyes, admiration sparkling them as he looks back at you. 
You moan as he enters a finger into your core, soon adding another as you loosen yourself for him. Finally, when he deems you ready, he reaches into one of the desk drawers, pulling out a condom. Motioning to him, he hands it over, letting you take over and do the honors. He simply places both arms on either side of your form, caging you in his embrace, smirking down at you.
Finally, once the condom was rolled onto his member, he goes to line himself up to your entrance, tip placed right at the beginning, not crossing the threshold just yet. “Are you sure?” is all he asks, wanting consent.
Knowing that this is wrong, you contemplate your options. You have already thought of the many ways he could take you, having been attracted to the older man for many years. Looking him in the eyes, you nod, “I’ve wanted this for too fucking long.”
With this new reassurance, he thrusts deeply, not giving you a chance to adjust just yet, pushing in and not stopping until he’s bottomed out. Taking a breath, you relish in the familiar sting of being stretched out, leaning back on your elbows for a minute. When you’re finally ready, you grab onto his shoulders, nodding once again. 
He starts slow, not wanting to hurt you, but, as you bite his pulse point, he jumps, taking the hint. Pounding into you mercilessly now, you moan and scream loudly, meeting his thrusts with the same momentum and speed, wanting this just as much as he does.
Instead, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can manage, you busy yourself with admiring and teasing the man before you. Specifically when he switches positions slightly, hitting your g-spot, your hands find their way into the tiny tufts of hair remaining on his balding scalp. Tugging lightly, he groans, pounding harder.
“Fuck!” you choke out, “I’m gonna cum! Joe! I’m gonna cum!”
“Just hold on a bit more, I’m almost there!”
Using his hands, he moves one to your clit, rubbing hard circles, intensifying the pleasure. You moan, the pleasure almost too much for you, settling for leaning your head on his chest. The chest hair tickles your nose, making you giggle between whimpers, kissing him there every so often.
With all your strength, you try to maintain your composure, the knot in your stomach begging for release. But, as you feel his dick twitch, the veins touching every inch of your walls deliciously, you couldn’t hold on any longer, milking his cock. With the sudden tightness and feeling of warmth bursting against him, he continues to thrust just a few seconds more, riding you through your orgasm as he meets his. 
As he slowly comes down from his high, he sighs peacefully, placing his head underneath yours and in the crevice of your neck. You kiss the top of his head as you take his weight, leaning back on your hands, one wrapped around his neck. After a moment, as he now goes soft within your being, he pulls out, disposing the condom.
Smiling, the two of you joke and throw clothes at each other as you get changed again. “So what are we now, Joe?”
“Well, it’d be fucked up to say nothing after mind-blowing-sex, now wouldn’t it?”
“I guess...So does that mean we’re together?”
“Do you want to? I would’a thought a young girl like you would want someone who can keep up with ya’?”
“I mean yeah...but they aren’t you, Joe. I want you,” you say honestly.
“Shit...” he mutters, smiling now, “This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”
“Is that a ‘yeah’?”
“Hell yeah it is!” he says happily, “Now how about round 2?”
“You’re on Old Man,” you say giggling, hopping into his lap on his desk, kissing him once more.
However your giggling and kisses get cut short with a knock on the door. You sigh, getting off of him not and making sure your clothes are straightened out.
“I guess not...” you say defeated.
“Well...Not right now,” Joe answers, going to the door, giving a sly wink as he opens it. 
Work is only temporary, you know this. You’ll get all the time you need with him tonight.
172 notes · View notes
queenshelby · 3 years
Text
The Maid – Part One of Three
Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader
Words: 5095
Warning: Smut
Summary: It was Sunday Evening and you working at a nightclub in London. This was your first job and today you were to meet an interesting man who would make you a job offer that you couldn’t refuse. When you took up the job with him, you got so much more than you bargained for.
Tag List:
@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  
--------
Meeting a Stranger
‘Good Evening Sir, may I get you a drink?’ you asked as you looked up into his deep blue eyes.
‘Whiskey. Irish please’ the man said without looking at you as he lit himself a cigarette.
It was unusual for men in this establishment not to make eye contact. It was almost like he was disinterested in his surroundings.
When he lifted up his whiskey glass, you noticed his wedding band. Of course, he was married and here to cheat on his wife.
She probably no longer satisfied his needs. But what did you know? Being 19 years old and rather shy, you had never been with a man.
It wasn’t long until the mistress arrived at the bar which also was unusual. He must be a special guest if the mistress herself was taking the time to talk to him.
‘Mr Shelby, I apologise, but Laura is absent tonight. Clara might be of interest’ the mistress said.
‘Not Clara. Someone new’ he responded.
‘Of course. I will make arrangements’ the mistress said before excusing herself.
Just as the mistress had left, the man ordered a second glass of whiskey.
‘Your name is Shelby?’ you asked surprised as you served him. ‘Are you related to Thomas Shelby by any chance?’ you added.
Without a response, he finally looked up at you. His eyes widened and his facial expression changed, almost like he had seen a ghost.
‘Is everything alright?’ you asked as you didn’t receive a response to your question.
‘You remind me of someone I used to know’ he responded. ‘You just look like her’ he added.
‘So I’ve been told. It’s a shame I never got to meet her’ you said, knowing exactly that he was talking about your half sister Greta Jurossi.
Greta and her mother passed away of consumption before you were born. Your father became very upset by their passing and found comfort in your mother who he fathered two children with. You were the oldest.
Your half-sister Kitty Jurossi spoke about Thomas Shelby quite frequently as the love of Greta’s life. They had been together since they were 16 and you know that he left for France shortly after Greta passed at the age of 19.
Just as Tommy introduced himself to you and began asking you questions, the mistress returned and advised Tommy that arrangements had been made.
‘I changed my mind’ Tommy said. ‘Although, I would like Miss Jerossi to accompany me. I will cover her wages for the night’ Tommy said, causing your heart to skip a beat.
‘Mr Shelby, I am afraid to inform you that she has no experience. She is not one of our working girls. She is simply a barmaid. Although, if you insist and this is something you wish to explore further, we could perhaps come to some to an arrangement’ the mistress said.
You were speechless and felt like you were auctioned off to the highest bidder.
‘I am not intending to fuck her. I would simply like to continue our conversation, eh’ Tommy said sheepishly, catching the mistress by surprise.
‘This should be enough for her time and for you to put another barmaid on for the evening’ he added as he handed her 10 pounds.
‘Of course, Mr Shelby, thank you’ the mistress said before telling you to get your coat.
You grabbed your coat and met Tommy at the front of the club. Just as you arrived, he had lid himself a cigarette.
‘Common’ he said before you followed him to his car.
‘Where are we going?’ you asked. You were still slightly uncomfortable about the situation unfolding right in front of you.
‘A place I know’ he said as he drove off and, within ten minutes, you pulled up in front of a nightclub of a different kind. It was full of artists, a band was playing in the background and everyone enjoyed champaign and cocaine.
‘Common, have a seat’ Tommy said as he sat down with you in a somewhat private area.
He ordered you a drink and began to talk about Greta, his long-lost love. You were still unsure why you were there, with him. Whilst he asked you several questions about your life and your circumstances, it was mostly him who was doing the talking.
After several hours of talking, on the stroke of midnight, Tommy made you a proposal which was too good to refuse.
He offered you a job in Birmingham, as a maid. Apparently, his household was short-staffed and his wife needed more assistance. He was of the view that working in an up-market brothel as a barmaid was no job for a woman like you. Somehow, he didn’t know you, but he cared. He was concerned that, the longer you work there, the more likely it will become that you be asked to do more than just serve drinks.
His offer was kind and you accepted it with caveat that you had no experience as a maid.
He assured you that you will learn all you need to know on the job.
New Life
A week after your encounter with Thomas Shelby, your new life began.
You were introduced to the household and tried the best you could to settle in.
Most days, you were on your own with the other maids, Elizabeth Shelby, who was Tommy’s wife and Tommy’s two children.
Tommy’s wife Lizzie disliked you for obvious reasons. She insisted on older and experienced maids and it was evident to her why Tommy had hired you.
For a while you tried very hard to make Lizzie like you, but nothing took away the apprehension she had in respect of you.
Whilst you could understand her concerns, Tommy had never made any advances towards you. After all, you were much younger than him.
But, over the next few weeks, you learned why Lizzie was so apprehensive. Her marriage to Tommy was on the verge of breaking.
According to Sarah, one of the maids, Tommy and Lizzie were no longer sleeping in the same bedroom and she overheard Lizzie speaking to a solicitor in London to ascertain what her options were if she was to divorce him.
Sarah was of the view that there is no love between Tommy and Lizzie. There never has been.
Lizzie enjoyed the life and the money. Apparently, she used to be a working girl in Birmingham and this is how she met Tommy.
They used to sleep together, quite frequently, until one day she fell pregnant. When Tommy became a member of parliament, he married her. Clearly, he had to appear to be doing the right thing in a position like that.
Sarah herself had her eyes on Tommy and was the only other young maid who managed to stay. For some reason not apparent to you, Lizzie tolerated her. Perhaps she knew too much. After all, one of the reasons maids stayed at the Shelby household was because they were paid well, much better than in other households. Sarah was one of the few maids who had access to Thomas Shelby’s office and it was likely that she had to put a blind eye on the illegal activities Thomas Shelby engaged in.
Every Thursday Evening at 8 o’clock, Sarah would go to Tommy’s office and she would be there for an hour exactly. You timed it, right to the second, every week.
One week, you managed to quietly pass by the office on a Thursday evening at half past eight and you could hear them being intimate.
To your surprise, despite their weekly encounters, Tommy was cold towards her. He didn’t treat her differently to any of the other maids. It appeared to you that the sex they have was no more than another business transaction for Tommy.
Whilst Tommy wasn’t around much, when he was, he was different with you. He was kind and warm in his own way. You were the youngest maid in the household and even Francis said that you get away with mistakes that aren’t usually tolerated because Mr Shelby seems to have soft spot for you. Sometimes, he would even smile at you and you began to like him more than you should have liked a man his age. Sometimes, you even imagined what it would be like if it was you in Tommy’s office with him instead of Sarah.
To your surprise, after a month of you being at the Shelby house, Tommy started to call you into his office as well. You recalled the first time. It was a Tuesday evening, 8 o’clock and you were nervous.
Whilst you could imagine yourself sleeping with him, you had never been with a man before.
But, intimacy and sex was not what Tommy was after. He simply enjoyed your company and you would talk for hours, about horses, racing and politics.
Like a real gentleman, he kept his distance, offering you a drink and a cigarette while you talked and talking was all you ever did.
Sarah noticed reasonably quickly that your Tuesday night encounters with Tommy became a habit and once she even overheard you referring to him as Tommy as opposed to Mr Shelby.
Tommy insisted that you call him Tommy when you talked in private. It was not part of your work and he said that he felt old every time you called him ‘Mr Shelby’.
As another four weeks had passed, you could see the man within him who your step sister fell in love with and Kitty had spoken so highly about. He appeared to you every Tuesday evening at 8 o’clock, a different man.
Mistakes Happen
To Lizzie’s and Francis’s annoyance, you made many mistakes. Burnt toast was just one of them. But none of that bothered Tommy.
As it has happened, one day you even managed to break an incredibly expensive vase as you paid more attention to Tommy getting dressed through the crack of his bedroom door. It was a sheer accident which probably wouldn’t have happened if you paid more attention to what you were doing at the time rather than Tommy’s naked chest.
‘I am so sorry Mr Shelby, I didn’t mean to drop this’ you said, totally embarrassed and flustered as the vase dropped to the floor and, hearing the shatter, Tommy emerged from his bedroom.
‘It’s alright Y/N, seriously. It’s just a vase, eh’ Tommy said with a smile on his face as he bent over, helping you to collect the pieces.
‘Please Mr Shelby, I can do this’ you said with some embarrassment. Your cheeks were flushed by the sight of him, wearing nothing but his suit pants.
Tommy’s eyes gazed over to you as he picked up the pieces and it was clear to you that he noticed your flushed cheeks.
‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ Lizzie said as she observed him collecting pieces of broken porcelain with you from the floor.
‘What does it look like Lizzie?’ Tommy asked. It was clear to you that they were fighting, again. They always fought. Sometimes you wondered why they were married at all.
The constant arguing between Tommy and Lizzie was exhausting. It exhausted everyone, even the maids.
‘I’ve got it Mr Shelby, please’ you said as you put more pieces of the broken vase into a bucket.
‘See, she’s got it Tommy, now would you please see Arthur. He is downstairs yelling and Charles has started to pick up the swear words’ Lizzie said.
‘Alright Lizzie, fuck’ he said as he got up and left you to it. As you were cleaning up the last of the broken pieces, you overheard Lizzie talk to Ada about you.
‘I really don’t know why Thomas had to employ her instead of someone more experienced’ she said.
‘She looks exactly like Greta, his first ever love, that’s why Lizzie’ Ada responded.
‘Well then he should have left her at the whorehouse and visit her there’ Lizzie said frustrated before walking off.
Lizzie’s comment made you rather upset and you were beginning to feel even more uncomfortable at the house with every day that went by.
Lizzie had begun to notice Tommy’s favouritism towards you and it was clear to you that she did not want you around.
After another two weeks, you couldn’t bare it any longer and decided to resign. The tension between you and Lizzie had become too much to tolerate.
You handed your written resignation to Tommy at noon on a Monday and, just as he read it, he walked to his office door and closed it behind him.
‘Sit down Y/N, have a drink’ Tommy said, causing you to flush.
‘Common’ Tommy said as he poured yourself a glass of whiskey, neat, before sitting down on one of the arm chairs.
You sat down across from him as he handed you the glass of whiskey.
‘I cannot accept this’ he said as he took a sip from his glass.
‘Tommy, I cannot continue to work for you. I am not suited for this job and I am fairly sure that neither your wife nor Francis like me very much’ you explained.
‘That might be right but, in the end of the day, I make the decisions, eh’ Tommy said. ‘And I would like you to stay’ he added.
‘Why? You can easily find a better maid’ you laughed.
‘Because you are smart Y/N and I enjoy your company. Please’ Tommy said.
‘Alright, I will give it another month and then reconsider’ you said.
‘Good’ Tommy smiled. ‘I see you tomorrow at the usual time?’ he asked, causing you to nod with a smile.
It was difficult for you to deny Tommy especially since your attraction towards him was growing, becoming almost unhealthy in a way. Why would you feel like this around a man who was twice your age? You wanted him and stayed around in the hope that he would offer you more than employment.
And just like this, with Thomas Shelby in the back of your mind, you went on with your work.
It’s Fucking Tuesday
Tuesday evening approached quickly and you couldn’t wait to see Tommy.
At 8 o’clock, you sneaked into his office as usual, barefoot and without knocking so that no one would notice.
Little did you know that, that evening, you would reveal a lot more to Tommy than you had initially anticipated.
As such, after two glasses of whiskey and a couple of cigarettes, you spoke honestly about your political views. You too were in support of communism and felt as though Tommy had lost his way in his political campaigns for the Labour Party.
‘The good old cause, eh’ Tommy laughed after you outlined to him where the Labour Party went wrong in your opinion. ‘You know Y/N, you remind me of someone, someone who was just as idealistic and passionate about changing the world as you are’ he added.
‘I’ve been told that before, by my father. He used to get rather frustrated with us both’ you said.
‘Kitty said that you were idealistic and in favour of an armed revolution once yourself. But then she told me that all of this changed after the war. The same Tommy never came back from France. You had changed. But I am not sure if I am willing to believe that’ you added.
‘No one came back Y/N’ Tommy said. ‘The war changed everyone’ he added.
‘That is true but, I think that the Tommy she spoke so highly about many years ago is still in there somewhere. I’ve seen it. You are still a man with ideals and a man who cares, even if you don’t want to admit it. If you didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here’ you said as you walked over in front of where Tommy was sitting in order to fill up your glass of whisky.
For a moment, you placed your empty glass on to the desk besides him and kneeled down in front of him.
‘You are a good man, Tommy. A good man who does bad things sometimes where necessary and the world needs more men just like you’ you said before you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his.
Without the two glasses of whiskey, you would never have been able to build up the courage to do this, but there you were, kissing Thomas Shelby.
Tommy gave into the kiss for a moment, his lips dancing with yours but his hands not leaving his chair.
‘This is wrong Y/N’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart.
‘Yes’ you said before pressing your lips back onto his for a short moment. ‘Yes, it is’ you added and, just in that moment, Tommy leaned forward caressing your face and returning the kiss.  
This is what you wanted for so long, his lips on yours and your tongues exploring each other.
After about a minute, Tommy pulled away, looking into your dark eyes.
‘This is a bad idea Y/N’ Tommy said again, still cupping your face.
‘Well, then tell me that you don’t want me and I will leave right now’ you said.
‘I want you alright, but you are half my age’ Tommy said.
‘So what? You are Thomas Shelby, you can have whoever you want’ you said and, just like that, your hands reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it slowly.
You could hear Tommy inhale deeply and knew exactly that he likes to be pleasured this way. You had never done any of this, but the working girls at the brothel spoke about it frequently. Sometimes, you saw them do it, in a quite corner of the club or the lavatories if the men liked to be watched.
‘Have you ever done this before?’ Tommy asked, looking down at you, his hand tangled in your hair. He could tell that you were nervous and completely out of your comfort zone.
You shook your head shyly and, as much as Tommy wanted to feel your mouth on his cock, he wanted you to feel entirely comfortable with what you were doing.
‘Come up’ he said, taking your hands and guiding you up towards him before pressing his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.
‘You don’t want me to?’ you asked as you broke the kiss and Tommy buckled up his belt.
‘Trust me, I want you to’ Tommy smirked, cupping your face again.
‘But not like this’ Tommy said before giving you another kiss.
Just after your lips drifted apart, your eyes wandered downwards where could see Tommy’s erection pushing against his pants. He clearly was ready and you wondered why he stopped you.
‘Tomorrow, after 10 o’clock, in your room. If you want me to come, you leave your bedside lamp on. I will see the light through the bottom of the door. If you don’t want me to come then turn it off and I won’t, alright?’ Tommy said.
Tommy wanted you to be sure about this. Not influenced by whiskey and not in the heat of the moment.
You agreed to his suggestion and, after a few more kisses, you left his office.
A Night to Remember
The next evening, after you finished work for the day and had dinner, you made your way to your room. You had a bath, washed your hair and got dressed in some lingerie.
The fire was lid and, just as instructed, you left on the bedside lamp. It was only 9 o’clock and you had to wait another hour before Tommy would meet you. You tried to kill the time by reading a book, but you couldn’t think about anything but Tommy and what was about to happen.
You wondered what it would be like to be with a man, especially a man like him. He was clearly experienced. Nonetheless, you were worried that it would be painful.
Five minutes to ten, you put the book that you weren’t really reading aside and put on some perfume. You wanted to smell nice for him.
You positioned yourself on the bed, seductively. Your black lace underwear was highlighted by the light of the bedside lamp. Your hair was open, your curls running over your shoulders. Your porcelain pale skinned was complimented by the dark red lipstick you had borrowed from one of the maids.
Waiting impatiently, just as the clock stroke ten, you could hear the door opening.
‘You look beautiful’ Tommy smirked.
‘Just for you’ you said shyly, taking in a deep breath as Tommy walked over towards you.
He was wearing nothing but underpants and you couldn’t help but stare at his perfect body.
It wasn’t long until he climbed onto the bed with you and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.
The kiss was urgent and his lips tasted like sweet whiskey. He took his time, his hands roaming over your body while his tongue was dancing with yours.
It wasn’t long until he found the clip of your bra and he opened it with ease.
‘If I would have known that it would come off so quickly, I wouldn’t have spent half my weekly wage on it’ you giggled.
‘Just an unnecessary piece of fabric’ Tommy chuckled as his fingers began to trace the lines of your body, curving around your now naked breasts, stroking and teasing your nipples.
His lips soon moved from your mouth down to your neck and then all the way to your breasts.
‘Mmhm’ you moaned as he began to bite your nipples gently while his hands roamed downwards to your stomach and then your lace panties.
Tommy hooked his thumbs in your panties and slowly drew them down your legs, leaving you totally exposed.
While kissing over your breasts gently, one of his hands moved directly in between your legs and his index finger traced through your wet slit, dipping into slightly.
You inhaled sharply and tensed up suddenly and unintentionally. Tommy could feel your body become stiff and your legs closing around his hand.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ Tommy asked as he moved upwards slightly, worried that this was too much too soon for you.
‘No Tommy, I want you’ you said desperately before pressing your lips back onto his.
‘Please’ you then said again as your lips drifted apart.
‘Alright. I will take it slow and you will tell me if I hurt you or if you want me to stop. Agreed?’ he said, causing you to nod.
And just like that, his lips met your again before he started to trail kisses down your body.
Just as he reached your stomach, he stopped and lowered himself further, right in between your legs.
Tommy hooked one of your calves around his shoulder and then started kissing up your ankle, your calf, your knee.
You had no idea what he was doing until he got closer and closer to your already soaking wet mound.
‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ you asked nervously. His face was so close to your most intimate parts that you flushed from embarrassment.
‘You’ll see’ he smirked just before, all of a sudden, he dipped his tongue to meet your sex.
‘Oh god’ you cried out, partly from pleasure and partly from the exhilaration of a sensation entirely foreign to your body.
He drew lazy circles around your clit, making your legs twitch of their own volition. Your hand nestled in Tommy’s hair, stroking it as you moaned.
Tommy adapted quickly, gauging your moans and learning your sweet spots.
While his tongue circled over your client, he carefully and slowly pushed a finger into you.
You tensed, but relaxed quickly as you couldn’t feel any pain.
He began to thrust it in and out in time with the rhythm of his tongue.
You felt dizzy, quivering with anticipation as heat pooled deep in your belly.
You whimpered, whispering "please" over and over again as you felt yourself on the verge of exploding. No orgasm you had ever given yourself had been like this—it felt electric.
Tommy could soon feel your walls tightening around his finger and increased the speed of his thrusts.
You clapped a hand over your mouth and screamed as you came, your back arching, legs shaking, hips grinding against him. Even after you were past your highest peak, you felt the energy tingling, jolting through you, inspiring little sighs.
When you opened your eyes, you saw him grin, wiping your nectar from his face with the back of his hand.
‘I think you are ready now eh’ he smirked before taking off his underpants.
He was large, larger than you had imagined.
You took in a deep breath, knowing exactly what was to come next.
Tommy could see the nervousness and concern on your face.
‘Don’t worry, I will go slow and we can stop at any time, alright’ he said as he positioned himself in between your legs.
‘Tommy, are you sure it will fit, I mean…’ you said nervously and, before you could finish your sentence, Tommy interrupted you with a mild chuckle.
‘It will fit Love’ he said before his lips met yours again for passionate kiss.
As he was kissing you gently, he positioned his cock at your entrance and began to press just the head into you.
It felt warm and moist.
Tommy’s normally-cool countenance was wide-eyed and intense as he began pushing into you.
Your breath hissed out in tandem as he began to stretch you open and you couldn’t help it but hold onto his upper arms tightly.
Pushing into you inch by inch, you groaned when he finally met the resistance of your hymen.
‘Tommy, please’ you moaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for what was coming.
Tommy leaned forward, slowly pushing through the resistance.
You both struggled to contain your yelps of pain and pleasure as he tore through you.
Your eyes welled up with tears as your recovered from the white-hot sharpness, but before long it was replaced by a feeling of blissful fullness. You fluttered open my eyes and gave him a lazy smile.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked, holding still, allowing you to adjust to his size. His voice was throaty and intense.
‘Yes’. I feel so... fucking... full’ you giggled and, just like that, he began to push deeper, then rocked his hips back out.
He thrusted in a slow, deliberate rhythm, working his cock into you inch by inch.
Every new thrust stretched you out beyond what you thought you could handle.
He looked down in a moment of surprise as your hips began to grind against him, trying to work his cock in and out of you. He chuckled, re-positioning himself for leverage, and began to fuck you.
He began with slower, shallower strokes, finding his rhythm and stretching you out. You could tell that he wanted to go faster, but your walls were gripping too tight for him to pound you just yet without hurting you.
You could see the hunger in Tommy’s features, feel it as his hand tangled in your hair and gave it a sharp tug.
The tug distracted you and gave him the opportunity he needed to thrust hard and deep into you.
You cried out, and the lingering pain in your body was suddenly replaced by explosive pleasure. You threw your arms around his neck and he drew his hips back before pounding you with another powerful thrust, and another, and another.
The sensations—the sound of your bodies slapping together, the smell of sex, the feeling of his body pounding into you—collided suddenly in a violent eruption, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure as you came for the second time.
Your pleasure and the feel of your walls spasming around him sent Tommy into overdrive.
He pounded you harder and harder, before tensing and releasing his seed inside you with a shuddering roar.
You both gasped for breath, covered in sweat, hearts racing from the heat of your encounter. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, and you tasted yourself again on his tongue.
‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said in between kisses before he finally pulled out of you, causing some of his cum mixed with some of your mildly blood-stained juices leak on the sheet.
‘Will you stay with me for the night?’ you asked as you pressed your cheek onto Tommy’s warm chest.
‘You know I can’t’ Tommy said as he ran his hand through your hair.  ‘But I’ll stay until you fall asleep eh’ he added before pressing his lips onto to yours yet again.
And so he did, he stayed with you until you drifted off to sleep.
The Aftermath
The next morning, you woke up early. Somewhat sore but full of energy.
Tommy didn’t have to tell you that, what happened last night, had to remain a secret.
Nonetheless, you hoped that you would have an encounter like this with him again soon.
To your surprise, when you got dressed, you noticed the stains on the white sheets.
You pulled them off quickly and decided to get them into the wash before the other maids had to use the laundry facilities.
As you walked into the laundry room with your sheets, you saw Sarah.
‘You are up early?’ you asked surprised.
‘Charles was sick last night and I have to clean his sheets. I think he doesn’t tolerate cows’ milk to be honest’ she said.
‘What about you?’ she asked.
‘Washing my sheets before it gets too busy’ you said shyly.
‘Didn’t you just wash your sheets?’ Sarah asked, taking them off your hands.
‘Sarah, please, let me’ you said. ‘It’s this time of the month’ you said nervously, lying of course, but trying to justify the somewhat small but obvious stains on your sheets.
‘Don’t worry, if I can clean up vomit, I can clean up anything. Despite, you don’t know how to use the new machine’ Sarah chuckled.
With reluctance and embarrassment, you agreed but, just as Sarah placed the stained sheets into the basin, she noticed a familiar scent. Tommy’s aftershave.
‘You know Y/N, you might want to see a doctor’ she said.
‘Why is that?’ you asked.
‘You said that it’s the time of the month for you. You had your menses ten days ago. That’s not normal don’t you think? Unless there is something else you have to hide Y/N?’ Sarah said sharply.
529 notes · View notes
animeomegas · 3 years
Text
Infertlie!Omega!Neji manages to become pregnant
Hello! Do you have any hc’s for what would happen if by some miracle Neji WAS able to become pregnant? Love ur stuff!! ❤️
(Hello! Ahh, I’m flattered! Hmm, if Neji was able to become pregnant… I have a few ideas. Enjoy~)
Warnings: miscarriage mention, suppressant abuse. 
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Finding out:
He’s been taking a pregnancy test every month for 18 months by this point, and nothing.
You have been telling him that he may have to start thinking about what he wants to do if he can’t have pups.
Neji knows whose fault it is that he can’t conceive.
He struggles to walk through the Hyuuga compound sometimes, knowing it’s their fault that he’s like this. That he’s broken.
You deny any such things, but he knows he is. And he’s very bitter and upset about it.
But he won’t give up yet.
2 years. That was the time frame he had given himself. If he couldn’t conceive within two years, then… Well, he didn’t want to think about that.
One morning when he doesn’t have a mission, he gets up and heads to the bathroom, taking the test automatically.
The feelings of hope and anxiety have long since faded after too many disappointments.
So, he grabs the test, gives it a cursory glance and goes to throw it in the bin before he realises what the test says.
He lifts the test back up, hand shaking. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he could have sworn it said…
Positive.
He’s holding a positive pregnancy test.
His heart is beating very fast now. Neji just stands there for a few moments, unsure what to do.
He ends up taking all the pregnancy tests in the bathroom, seven in total.
And all of them are positive.
He won’t ever admit it, but he did cry a little (a lot).
But quickly the joy begins to fade, and fear sets in.
He needs to be so careful.
He can’t lose this baby, he just can’t.
He needs to stop taking missions, he needs to eat better, he needs to go to the hospital-
He works himself into a little panic, and then panics more because he is so scared the stress will make his lose his baby.
At this point, he’s been in the bathroom for like half an hour, so you tentatively knock and ask if he’s okay.
Neji was clutching the sink in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror and desperately trying to calm down. He needed to calm down, but he just couldn’t. He distantly realised that he was letting out quiet panicked whines, calling for you to help him automatically.
And then he heard a knock on the door, you were here. He let out a louder whine to try and signal to you that he needed you there with him.
“Neji?” your voice was a little alarmed, you must have heard his whining. “Neji, what’s wrong? Can I come in?”
He heard the door handle shake as you tried to open it against the lock.
“Neji, please, open the door.”
“I’m pregnant.” He blurted.
The door handle stopped moving. He waited anxiously for you to say something, still struggling under the weight of the anxiety clawing at his chest.
“…Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed heavily. “I took all the tests.”
“Let me in please, my love.”
This time, Neji follows your request automatically. The lock clicks open, and you immediately step in. Neji can feel your eyes scanning him before they flit over to the abundance of pregnancy tests lying innocently in the sink.
A smile slowly creeps its way onto your face.
“Oh, baby boy, come here,” you opened you arms for him and he immediately stepped into the embrace. His heart was finally starting to calm down, as he took deep breaths of your scent. He was safe, he didn’t have to worry, you would be here to make sure everything was alright.
“We’ll go down to the hospital tomorrow, alright? Get everything checked out, but I don’t…” you hesitated.
“You don’t what?” He knew what you were going to say. ‘I don’t want you to get your hopes up.’
You shook your head. “Nevermind, let’s just book the appointment. Would you rather go to the hospital or see one of the clan medics?”
Neji grimaced. “Hospital. I know it’s weird, but… I don’t want them to know yet.”
You rubbed a hand on his lower back. “We won’t tell anyone until you’re ready, I promise.”
 Pregnancy:
The hospital visit went as well as you could have hoped.
Neji was indeed pregnant, and everything was progressing well for the moment.
But, of course, there were some concerns.
Neji was given a gentle reminder that he was at a high risk for a miscarriage.
He was also told that a traditional birth would be too risky for him, and that he would have to have a c-section.
And, while the mednin couldn’t be sure yet, it was unlikely that he would be able to breastfeed.
Neji took all the information with a detached nod, acknowledging what was being said, but not reacting to it.
As a Hyuuga, he kept his emotions firmly pressed down in public. His scent and face were completely normal. Few would have been able to tell that something was wrong.
But the second he stepped into your house, he just sagged.
He claimed to be tired and went to lay down upstairs. You let him go, knowing that he wanted his own space to process,
But it was hard to smell his sour scent and not come running.
Things got better, however.
Once he was past three months, the chances of a miscarriage reduced hugely, and Neji was much happier.
He threw everything he could into looking after himself and preparing for the pup.
He stopped taking missions as soon as he found out he was pregnant and started to babyproof the house and make the nursery.
The nursery was very traditional. A rocking chair, a wooden crib, handmade blankets and toys.
It was beautiful and Neji was very protective of it. He wanted it to be perfect.
He was protective over the pup in general, as well.
He didn’t let anyone other than you put their hands on his tummy.
As far as the physical pregnancy, Neji had some troubles, but he pushed his way through them with no complaints.
He was most infuriated by his constant need to go to the toilet.
Pain he could deal with, but the constant inconvenience started to grind on his nerves.
He was also a little restless when he was left by himself. Without missions or training he didn’t know what to do with himself a lot of the time.
When you were home with him, he was fine, but he got bored by himself.
“No.”
You sighed, “Again? We’ve been shopping for hours, Neji.”
“Do you want to buy poor-quality blankets for our pup?” he huffed, placing another rejected blanket onto the shelf.
“What about this one?” you suggested, holding up a lovely, soft blanket.
Neji squinted at him, pulling the tag towards him to read. He pulled a face a dropped the blanket.
“No.”
“What’s wrong this time?”
“It’s part polyester. I don’t want polyester in the blankets and toys, I already told you this. Let’s try the next shop.”
You grimaced, feet already sore from all the walking. “Why don’t we just get some blankets and toys commissioned? We can afford it, and then they would be exactly what you want.”
Neji stopped, contemplative. “That’s… actually a good idea.”
“Well, you don’t have to sound so shocked.”
Yes,” Neji smiled, ignoring your complaints. “I want to do that. Let’s head to the stationary shop so I can get some materials to draw up some sketches.”
“The stationary shop?” you whined. “Can’t we just go home for today?”
“No, if I’m pregnant and I can do it, so can you.”
 Labour:
With a pre-planned c-section, Neji knew in advance when he would be going to the hospital for the procedure.
He had packed and re-packed his bag four times, just to be sure that he had everything he needed.
Neji was very calm, but it seemed to be because of the shock more than anything else.
He was escorted in, and prepared for the procedure, and exactly on time, he went in for his c-section.
You sat with him, only able to see him head as the rest of him was sectioned off with a screen. You were told not to stand until you had the signal.
You gently stroked Neji’s hair away from his face as the mednin worked. He was drowsy and disoriented. He blinked at you slowly.
“Is… everything going okay?” he whispered to you.
“I think so, baby. How are you feeling?”
“I feel strange…”
“I bet you do,” you laughed gently, pressing a kiss to his head. “Just try to relax, okay? I’m right here with you.”
The operation was exhausting, and Neji ended up being unable to do much for two months while he recovered, but the pup was healthy and Neji couldn’t be happier.
He spent hours every day in the rocking chair in the nursery cradling his pup.
Neji didn’t let anyone outside of you and some mednin meet the pup until she was three months old because he was so protective.
Neji would never be so tacky as to refer to his child as a ‘miracle child’, but sometimes, he can’t help but think it.
844 notes · View notes
existslikepristin · 3 years
Text
Impromptu Review
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Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.
Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.
The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.
“Joy! You’re here!”
Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”
“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”
“It’s only been like a month though.”
Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”
Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”
“What? How so?”
“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”
The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.
“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.
Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”
Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”
“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”
Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.
“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”
Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”
Sunny groaned, loudly.
“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”
“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”
Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”
Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”
“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”
As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.
* * *
“Can you believe that, Joy?”
“No way. It’s just inhuman.”
“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”
The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.
Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”
Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”
With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”
Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”
Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”
A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”
Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”
Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”
“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.
Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”
Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.
“The fuck is in this thing?”
“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”
Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.
Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.
Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.
Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”
Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.
“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”
Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”
It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”
Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”
“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.
“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”
“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.
"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"
"Yeah. I'm a detour."
"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”
There was a long silence.
“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.
“I am very drunk.”
“You’re not that drunk.”
“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”
“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”
Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”
The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”
It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.
“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”
Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.
The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.
Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.
“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.
Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”
“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”
“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”
Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”
“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”
A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”
Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.
There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…
“J-Joy?”
Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.
“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”
There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.
“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”
Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”
Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”
“I will if you want to.”
Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.
“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”
Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”
There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.
Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.
The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.
Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.
What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.
Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.
Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.
A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.
Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.
Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.
Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."
At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.
The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.
Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.
The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.
“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”
Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.
“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.
Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.
Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.
“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”
The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.
Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.
Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”
A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”
If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.
Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.
The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.
“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”
Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.
The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.
It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.
The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.
"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.
“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.
Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.
It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.
Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.
“Sun--”
She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.
A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.
Until, that is, it wasn’t.
With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.
Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.
He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.
And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.
Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.
“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”
It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.
“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.
Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”
Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”
Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”
Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.
“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.
“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.
There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.
“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”
She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.
It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.
Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…
“Hey, Sunny?”
“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.
Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”
She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.
“Good night to you too, Sunny.”
156 notes · View notes
rkived · 3 years
Text
━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 04 │ JJK
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↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader 
↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut
↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) angst as per usual what’s new, jk is sad, reader is sad, sunhi is sad, everyone’s just SAD
↳ RATING: (for this chapter) PG
↳ WORD COUNT: 4k 
↳ SYNOPSIS: Jungkook’s been feeling a little weird lately. Maybe it’s got something to do with his crumbling marriage and the way you seem to care for his daughter more than his own wife.
↳ A/N: ehem let’s pretend like i didn’t ghost this story for like half a year aha i’ve written more than this for cp but i decided to just divide it and leave the juicy stuff for the last chapter !! sorry for making u wait so long </3 anyway hope u enjoy still n i’ll see u in a couple months for the final chapter of cp!! (i’m jking…..or am i?)
01 02 03 04 05 (coming soon)
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Minji thinks you’re starting to get better. 
Well, she hopes you are because it’s been two months since you broke the news on her and anyone would think that’d it be long forgotten by now. She tries to stop as often as she can to check up on you, even though you assure her that you’re fine and that a simple text would suffice instead of having her come over every day in between. 
Which is why she’s unsure if giving you the invitation Jungkook had handed her about two weeks ago was a good idea, considering that it’s been a few days since you had last even mentioned him to her like you usually did before. In fact, today you look like you’re at peace for the very first time.
‘‘I did yoga!’’ You explain when she mentions that you look different, ‘‘I still can’t face going back to Namjoon’s class, but I remember a ton of positions he taught us!’’ 
Minji has to force herself to smile, her hand lingers inside the purse she’s carrying as her fingers fiddle with the cardstock paper waiting patiently to be handed. 
‘‘And then I stopped for some yogurt at the place down the─’’
‘‘I need to give this to you,’’ Minji stops your ramble and you’re taken aback by how urgent her voice sounds, very unlike her. ‘‘I promised I’d get this to you, so…’’ 
You’re about to ask her what she’s on about when she abruptly hands what you could make out to be a colorful piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight, completely confused until it suddenly hit you what it is that your friend’s talking about.
‘‘How did you─?’’ 
Minji gives you half a smile and shakes her hand so you can take the card instead of just staring at it, ‘‘Just─take it.’’
Your hand reaches out to grab it from her and your eyes quickly focus on the unicorn and sparkles themed birthday invite. It reads that it’s Sunhi’s birthday and that you are invited! You recognize the handwriting that filled the party’s information details, you always thought he had really nice penmanship. 
‘‘I think you should go,’’ Minji’s voice sounds like she’s faraway, but she’s just a few feet away from you, ‘‘for Sunhi.’’ 
You’re still staring at the invitation, memorizing every single detail. There’s so many unicorns, when did she start liking the mythical creature? She had never mentioned a liking towards them to you ever. You assume it must’ve happened during these few months of your absence.
How many moments have you missed? How many unanswered questions must Sunhi have by now? How many new toys has she had to wait to show you? How many kindergarten stories has she been saving to tell you? 
You’ve been counting. Sixty days have passed since you last saw Sunhi. It’s been seven Fridays since you last had her in your arms. 
Sixty days and seven Fridays since you kissed Jungkook. Fifty-nine days since you blocked him. 
Minji is still waiting for any sort of reaction from you. You’re stoically analyzing the piece of paper and she wonders what is it that you’re thinking or feeling. Is it good, bad or all in one? Whatever it is, her small deed is done. 
‘‘Y/N?’’ She calls out, you slowly nod and take your eyes from the invitation from the first time since she gave it to you. ‘‘Do you mind if I go? I have some stuff to─’’
A small gasp escapes your lips, ‘‘Yes Minji, of course!’’ Your friend smiles slightly and you proceed to escort her out your apartment. She actually doesn’t have anything to do, but she thinks it’s best if you get some space to take everything in. 
Minji notices how you’re still holding on to the birthday invite and she has to suppress a chuckle because she knows you’re most likely doing this absentmindedly. 
Before you’re able to thank her for coming, she stops you to say one last thing. ‘‘If you don’t want to go, then don’t,’’ she begins and your eyebrows raise at your friend’s comment. ‘‘Whatever it is that you decide on doing, I’ll support you either way,’’ Minji offers you a genuine smile and you can’t help but hug her tightly.
You’re alone again. Loneliness has come in waves as of lately. You’ve lived alone for years now, you’re used to being the only person present in your apartment ─ but that fact hasn’t felt more obvious than since you shunned Jungkook out. 
Good days eventually turn sour. The times where it seems like you can go on about your life without thinking about him and what he might be up to quickly change because your mind makes you feel bad about feeling good. 
Why did you cut him off knowing his daughter idolizes you like no other? Why did you selfishly decide to block him when you could’ve just talked it out? Why didn’t you stop him that night if you knew things would change between you two? Why did you let him kiss you knowing it was going to hurt in the end?
You know Sunhi’s fourth birthday is coming up. It’s one of those dates you can’t simply forget, it comes naturally to you. You had settled with the idea that you weren’t going to be invited this time around, it would’ve been okay since you think it’s what you deserve anyway. If Jungkook had taken you off the guest list, he was in his total right to do so. 
You want to be mad at him right now.
Why would he invite you? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? You wish you were angry, but you’re not. You feel slightly comforted with the fact that he had decided to include you even with everything that went down. In fact, not inviting you would’ve been selfish knowing that Sunhi must want you there. 
And if the invitation wasn’t enough of a sign that you should go, two days ago you got an email that the gift you had preordered for Sunhi some time ago was on its way to your place. Just in time for her birthday party. 
That’s life for you. 
You’re quick to remind yourself of Minji’s last words to you. You’re not obligated to go and if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. But you’d be lying if you said that because you really want to go, but there’s still some things that are holding you back. Your brain starts breaking down the pros and cons of going. 
The pros: You’d get to see Sunhi again, who you missed terribly and a tiny part of you was wishing that she didn’t hate you for suddenly leaving. It’s too much to ask for, but you do hope that Jungkook had come up with something instead of telling her upfront that you had left. 
The cons: You’d have to see Jungkook. Having to face the awkwardness of knowing you had blocked his number, prohibiting him from contacting you and discussing what happened like adults would do. 
Oh, and you’d see Jiwoo too and pretend like you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her husband. 
Whatever decision it is, you’d only have two days to decide.
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Jungkook smiled warmly as he looked at Sunhi twirling in her green and purple dress in front of the long length mirror in his bedroom. Ever since he got the garment in the mail, he had to hide it from her curious hands because if it were up to her she’d be wearing it day and night. 
‘‘Daddy, I look so cute!’’ Sunhi said with an excited tone, hopping in her place. The tull of her skirt followed her movements, making the glittery details sparkle brightly caused by the natural sunlight slipping through the curtain cracks. 
He chuckled, ‘‘You do, Pumpkin, but you need to settle down.’’ Jungkook placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, making his daughter’s bouncing cease. ‘‘You gotta be fully energized for the party, alright?’’ She nodded quickly, but he could still feel the excitement radiate from her. 
‘‘Gramma will do my braid, daddy.’’ Sunhi let him know once she noticed her father take a brush in his hand. The little girl much rather have her hair tangled in knots than having him attempt to do any sort of hairstyles on her. 
Jungkook pouts, but nods understanding. He’s thankful that his parents had made the trip from Busan this year. He knows his mother knew he would have a hard time setting everything up by himself this time around. His parents would normally miss Sunhi’s parties due to the distance, but he’d make it up to them by visiting the following weekend and doing a smaller gathering at their house instead. 
Things feel different. One could say that this time, everything is exactly where it should be. Sunhi’s growing older, his parents are here and not far away like usual, Jiwoo’s no longer in the picture, he’s picking back up the things that used to make him happy. There’s just a missing piece that doesn’t allow him to declare the puzzle’s finished.
And his daughter hasn’t really been helpful in allowing him to forget about it either. 
‘‘Daddy, is Auntie Y/N going to come?’’ She asked for what seemed the thousandth time that week alone. The younger girl only wanted to make sure you’re coming even though her father had reassured her that you might be making an appearance. 
Jungkook hummed, pursing his lips together, ‘‘Well, I don’t know if Auntie Y/N will manage to catch her flight in time for your party, but hopefully she’ll come,’’ he painfully lied and Sunhi nodded with a pout, she was hoping she’d get a different answer this time around, but still settles with her father’s explanation. 
Ever since you left, it had been part of her daily routine to ask about you and your whereabouts. Jungkook hated lying to his daughter, but he knew that even if he were to explain the ending of your friendship, she wouldn’t be able to understand. He had foolishly hoped that after telling her, repeatedly, that you had been out of the country because of your job, Sunhi would get the clue that you showing up at her birthday party was very unlikely. 
He can’t blame her because he’s also been hoping that you’ll show up for whatever reason. Jungkook’s aware that Minji had made no promises of you attending, but that little bit of faith he still had, clung onto you tightly. 
He’s let go of so many things recently, but he refuses to add you to that painful list. 
‘‘I miss Auntie Y/N,’’ Sunhi mumbled to herself, but Jungkook heard her clearly and his heart shattered at the longing in his daughter’s voice.
That’s why he’s relieved that she’s now running around the yard with her friends from the kindergarten she attends, screaming in glee as they all chase each other around the grass. The PinkFong playlist he had put together earlier that week has been a hit with the children, who danced and sang along to the lyrics; although some parents might’ve gotten tired of hearing the infantile music after a while. Jungkook himself is part of the people who much rather listen to something else, but it’s worth it if it means he catches Sunhi humming along to the tunes every once in a while. 
Having to entertain the parents has taken his mind off of knowing you’re not there. The party started two hours ago and you’re never late for anything, especially his daughter’s birthday celebrations. He’s settling with the idea that you’re no longer coming while he dabbles in serving food and refilling drinks, all the while having to make conversation with the parents of the invited kids. 
He can feel just how bad they feel for him, the word’s gotten around the PTA committee that he’s in the process of divorcing while taking full custody of his daughter.
‘‘Jungkook, how are you doing?’’ One of the invited moms asked him with a tactful tone, accompanied by a gentle smile that made him feel like a child for a mere moment. With a smile that could put anyone’s worries at ease, Jungkook assured her ─and the rest of the worrying mothers─ that he was doing just fine. 
It’s Sunhi’s day, it’s her party, a few more hours and you can cry all about it when she’s sleeping, had become his mantra as the party goes on.
‘‘What’s with the long face?’’ His mother suddenly asks him after he finishes placing the candles on Sunhi’s unicorn themed cake. 
Jungkook furrows his brows, ‘‘The unicorn’s face looks pretty alright to me,’’ he comments looking at the fondant shaped mythical creature at the top of the cake. 
Mrs. Jeon rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly at his son’s obliviousness, ‘‘I’m talking about your long face. Is everything alright?’’ She asks in genuine concern, making him sigh as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘‘It’s not because of Jiwoo, right?’’ The woman cautiously asks, afraid the mention of her son’s ex partner might be too sensitive.
The news of the divorce had surprised his parents, but they weren’t completely heartbroken about it. They had known her for years, but it had never been a close relationship at that. His mother had made a couple of comments here and there before concerning his ex partner’s behavior, but were always overlooked by Jungkook.  
Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘I’m fine, mom. I’m just kinda tired.’’ 
For someone who hates lying, he’s been doing it a lot recently. 
His mother doesn’t seem so sure about his answer, but decides not to interrogate him any further since she knows her son has been dealing with too much recently and she didn’t want to add her nagging to the list. 
Eventually the party guests all sing happy birthday to Sunhi as she sits behind her cake clapping alongside them, mumbling the famous song as she waits for everyone to finish so she can blow the four candles out and make a wish. She closes her eyes with force, putting her hands together as the guests watch her silently mouth words out. 
‘‘What did you wish for, Sunhi?’’ One of the kids excitedly asks her, fingers curling around her arm as he waits for her to answer. 
Sunhi hmphs and turns her face away from him, ‘‘If I say it out loud it won’t come true!’’ 
Jungkook can only hope his daughter had asked for something he’s able to buy. The newest Barbie doll, a trip to the zoo, that pretty tutu she saw at the store. Anything that is at arm’s reach from him to give her. But Jungkook knows his daughter all too well, those things don’t really matter to her right now. 
Sunhi’s wish is something he can’t obtain ─ someone that’s no longer a call away from him. His daughter doesn’t know, but he’s wished for the same thing too. 
You to come back. 
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The small pieces of confetti on the ground, paper decorations pasted on the wall and hanging from the ceiling of the house are enough to give away that a party had happened the day before, and that someone had been too tired by the end of it to even attempt to clean up. 
Even the thought of having to deal with all of the mess that his living room currently looks like is already making Jungkook regret not accepting his mother’s willingness to help after the party had ended yesterday, assuring her that she had done enough that day and that it was only fair he took care of the cleaning. 
Sunhi’s birthday had gone smoothly for the most part.
And as Jungkook scrolls through his phone’s gallery, smiling warmly at the small clips he managed to capture of his gleeful daughter running around the yard with her friends and the multitude of pictures his mother took of her blowing the candles of the cake out, granted, majority of them blurry, he is reminded that, although the party had been a success, the aftermath hadn’t been as pretty.
The party was over when he started hearing the first goodbyes and thankful comments of the parents for inviting them over, wishing Sunhi a final happy birthday before they took their sleepy kids in their arms. He had hoped his daughter would be drained too, despite the amount of sugar she had a few hours before. 
‘‘Auntie Y/N didn’t come.’’ Sunhi had stated, a pout on her trembling lips as she looked up at her tired father. ‘‘Why didn’t she come?’’ She asked in genuine curiosity as her eyes started glossing with tears.
Jungkook sighed, ‘‘Pumpkin, I told you she’s not in town. I’m sorry she─’’ It didn’t matter what excuse he had given her, the waterworks had begun. He hadn’t seen his daughter cry like that in a long time and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do to get her to stop. 
Even if he tried to coax her with distractions, like the number of gifts she had received from the guests or telling her he’d let her have another slice of cake if she stopped crying. He knew that what his daughter wanted wasn’t toys or food. She wanted you. And as much as Jungkook wants you just as much, he’s lost on ways to make you come back. 
Sunhi cried for what seemed like hours, his parents had even tried to cheer the little girl up by promising to take her to their house the very next morning for the rest of the weekend, to which she merely nodded as she fell asleep from exhaustion on her father’s chest. 
He envied her as he remained awake for most of the night, tears streaming down his face as guilt ate him away for his daughter’s heartbreak. 
It’s his fault after all. 
Jungkook isn’t upset you didn’t show up, you didn’t have to. Not even Sunhi could make you come back. Selfishly kissing you that night had changed the course of your relationship forever and that meant that his daughter would have to pay for his wrongdoings. 
With the absence of Sunhi, he’s reminded of just how big his house feels when he’s by himself. Ever since Jiwoo moved out, the only company he’s had is that of his daughter and it’s more than enough. With her dancing around the hallways and singing songs to the top of her lungs, Jungkook doesn’t feel as lonely.
He must’ve missed the knocking at the door or the ringing doorbell ─if there even was one─ because of the earphones he had on while he swept the confetti paper scattered on the hardwood floor of his home because by the time he opens his door to get a run around the neighborhood, he notices there’s a gift placed in his front doorstep. 
Jungkook’s brows furrow with confusion, unsure of why it was there in the first place. He’s sure Sunhi had opened all of her gifts last night, lazily and not very excited about them after her big cry, but she had made sure to leave them all unwrapped.
The medium-sized box is wrapped with a white and pink polka-dot paper, a cute golden ribbon placed right in the middle of it. Jungkook picks it up, bringing it closer for better inspection. Maybe it was from one of the kids that couldn’t make it? Although, they could’ve just gave it to Sunhi when they saw her at school again.
His eyes widen and his heartbeat races up when he reads the sticker tag with the name of the person responsible for the gift. 
‘‘To: Sunhi ♡
From: Auntie Y/N’’
His eyes scan the tag over and over again, just to make sure he’s reading the name correctly. When he manages to take his attention away from it, he looks around the street in hopes that he’d find you. 
How long has this been out here? Could he have caught a glimpse of you had he been less distracted? 
Although it feels wrong to open his daughter’s gift without her consent, he feels the urgent need to peek at what’s inside. His mind even tries to reason with himself, telling him it’s probably only a doll or a clothing item, like the other gifts Sunhi had received from the birthday guests yesterday. 
With a click of his tongue, he forgoes doing the right thing and tells himself that he’ll just wrap the gift again before Sunhi comes back from his parent’s house. 
The cute wrapping paper is thrown over his shoulder carelessly as he quickly unveils a white cardboard box, tilting his head slightly at what could possibly be inside. When he takes the top off, a soft gasp escapes his lips. 
A pink and white digital camera aimed for children lies inside, there’s decorative paper placed around it and a note inside. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, taking it delicately in his hand as he reads the words written in the familiar handwriting that hasn’t changed from all those years back in college. 
‘‘Happy 4th birthday, Sunhi! Since you’re growing older, I wanted to gift you something different this year around. Your daddy loves taking videos and I thought you should start doing it too, maybe he’ll pick his camera back up again haha. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see you blow your candles out, I hope all your wishes come true! I love you and miss you so much, 
-Auntie Y/N’’
Jungkook blinks back the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He places the note back inside the box and breathes in deeply, exhaling slowly as he stares at the gift. No one but you could come up with an idea like this. It hurts him, but he smiles slightly at your thoughtfulness. 
A different feeling arises inside him as he holds the gift in his hand, looking at it like this is the sign he had been sent from above. The last thread of his string of faith. He doesn’t even think twice, placing the gift gently inside and rushing to step outside to close the door. 
He’ll go on that run, just not around his neighborhood. 
As he runs past rows of houses and stores, the voice inside his head tries to tell him that he should think rationally. There’s a reason why you didn’t show up yesterday and another for you dropping the gift in front of his house without a sound. You don’t want to see him and yet he’s running straight towards you even if he knows this is hopeless. 
He manages to shut that voice off as he maintains his rapid pace, rushing past the rows of buildings he’s familiar with and the street names he’s memorized by now. It all feels so different when he’s not behind the wheel, he usually always has to depend on his GPS to help him reach places. Your address, though, is one he proudly knows by heart. 
As Jungkook stands outside your apartment building, he stares at it with the sound of his heart drumming inside his ears. Catching his breath, he’s reminded of the many times these past few months he’s been here, with Sunhi fast asleep in her car seat at the back. 
He always pictured going up, knocking at your door, and begging for forgiveness, all for you to turn him down in the end with a gut-wrenching I don’t want you in my life anymore and a door closing on his face. That’s why he always drove away, deciding that uncertainty is better than hearing you reject him.
This time, though, nervous and unsure as he usually is when he comes here, Jungkook breathes in deep and ignores the familiar knot formed inside his stomach. 
He decides that uncertainty isn’t a feeling he wishes upon you.
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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years
Text
YOU DRIVE ME MAD
Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst-fluff
Tags:
Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa
Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)
A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.
"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.
"uhm... Nothing."
"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.
"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.
"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.
With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.
I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"
"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.
"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.
My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.
His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.
I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.
The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.
"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.
"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"
"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.
"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.
One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.
"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."
"... 'm trying..."
"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.
"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.
"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.
"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.
I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.
What the fuck had just happened?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.
As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.
Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.
"—already told you it wasn't for you!"
"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.
"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"
"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"
"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"
"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.
As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.
"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.
"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.
"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."
He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.
"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."
"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"
"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.
"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"
"Been better." I confessed.
Silence.
"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."
"No worries."
Silence again.
"Did you eat something?"
He scrunched his nose. "Not really."
"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.
"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."
More silence.
"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."
"Yours is too, surprisingly."
"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.
"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"
"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.
"No!"
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Liar."
There we went again; the white flag was out.
"Fuck you."
"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."
"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."
"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.
"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."
"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."
"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"
He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.
"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.
"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"
He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.
"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
FRED'S P. O. V.
The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.
I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.
That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.
I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"
"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.
"In private?"
"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.
"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."
This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"
"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.
This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.
I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.
"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."
"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.
Finally.
Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.
"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.
"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.
Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.
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flowerwrites06 · 3 years
Text
deathly dry spell — jjk
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Plot: When Taehyung is away for months on a trip in the peak of winter, alternative methods of keeping a succubus pleased comes into play. 
Pairing(s): Jungkook x Succubus!OC (Name: Belle) ft. Boyfriend Taehyung 
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Word Count: 2k+
Genre: Succubus AU | Roommate AU | PWP
Tags & Warnings: explicit smut, spanking, squirting, unsafe sex, coarse language, succubus being angry horny 
Authors Note: idk what’s happening with my writing streak lately but I’m kind of just going with the flow and hoping you all like it lmao let me know what you think!
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Another frustrating morning. Belle had taken pills to suppress some of the aching in between her legs but they were only aggravating the hunger. Even her ivory horns began to ache from the increasing frustration and her breasts felt tender than ever before. Winter was always the worst time for her to be away from him. The grey sky framed by the apartment windows and cool atmosphere stinging her flesh made her desperate for warmth. No. Heat. She wanted burning heat everywhere.
“I’m going to be gone a couple of months, sweetheart,” Taehyungs’ voice crackled through the speaker.
“Months?” Belles’ dark brows furrowed looking through the computer screen as her boyfriend delivered the disturbing news. His curls were messy and a loose shirt draped over his body, making her heat up between her legs even more. In turn, increasing her frustration towards him for being so far apart.
If it were a normal relationship with two humans then they would probably just be very saddened. Unfortunately leaving your succubus girlfriend for a couple of months isn’t exactly safe. Especially if you’re desperate to want her faithful. She let out a deep sigh, staring out again at the heavily clouded sky. It was probably going to snow a lot this winter. She clamped her thighs together, cuddled into a crème blanket. “Tae—I can’t.” She buried her lips into the fluffy material. “Maybe I could come visit you.”
“You know why you can’t visit me here.” Taehyung didn’t sound too happy about the ordeal either but Belle had too much on her mind to feel bad for him. “These idiots don’t like magical creatures and you’ll be in danger.”
“But I can’t—”
“I had a suggestion.”
Belle blinked curiously. “What?”
Taehyung bit down his bottom lip, unsure of the thoughts rushing through his mind. “If you start feeling pain or sick at all—Jungkook could—”
“No.”
“You know it can’t be negotiated.”
“No!” she winced.
Taehyung sighed. “Baby…I can’t have you in pain.”
“Well that’s just you have to live with for leaving me.” She sniffled, scrunching her nose as the cold stung her. “Does Jungkook even know about your decision?”
“I kind of mentioned it to him.” Taehyung scratched the back of his head.
Belle’s eyes burned into him. She understood that there was no other choice if she wanted to survive the winter. But to take part in this pact felt so wrong. “So you just discussed it like it was some kind of business transaction.” Her feelings were indifferent. Some part of her still wanted to pretend that she was against it. Succubi were always known to become disloyal to their partners. If she took part in this thing, she’d be one of them.
“You—” Sadness spread across Taehyungs’ face; eyes glossed and features twisted in pain. “—you’ll die. Please…I want to come back home to you alive and well.”
Belles’ expression softened, tightening the blanket around her as she averted her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.”
-
It kept getting colder and her body kept getting painful. Belle didn’t remember the last moment she sat still. Not having to squirm somehow to be comfortable. Spending nights rubbing against pillows to get some kind of tension but only sleeping with tears filling her eyes. This morning wasn’t helping her mood either when Jungkook made food for the both of them to eat.
Belle hadn’t talked to him ever since the call with Taehyung. Except that didn’t mean Jungkook stopped making an effort to keep some kind of interaction going. Forcing a dinner on them was one of his genius attempts.
Roasted potatoes, chicken curry, spinach paste and a blueberry pie. Hearty enough meals for Belle to sustain herself when she couldn’t be filled in other ways. The scent suffused the cool air, making it homely and comforting. In her stubbornness though, Belle leaned back on the chair as Jungkook tried to start a conversation.
“You’re just not going to talk to me.” Jungkook shook his head.
Belle folded her arms over her chest refusing to eat a morsel of food. It smelled delicious to a point where it could even make her mouth water.
“Look I know you’re hungry.” He gestured to the meal. “If you’re not going to do it the way you have to at least eat the way humans do.”
Belle glared at him. “Don’t act like this is an inconvenience to you. I didn’t ask for your goddamn help!” She never snapped at Jungkook. Or anyone for that matter. Then again, she hadn’t gone this long from getting her sustenance.
“It’s not an inconvenience. I don’t want to see a friend hurt like this.”
“But you’re willing to treat me like a bet in a club.”
Jungkooks’ expression hardened. “Sex means life and death to you, does it or does it not?”
Belle pressed her lips together. “Yes,” she muttered.
“Then why the hell would we not take it seriously?” He stabbed the fork into the chicken. “I can’t force you to get what you need. But I’m sure as hell not letting you leave until you eat something.”
She wanted to stay relentless and keep her arms folded. Except the meal might help sleep at night better at the very best. With a defeated sigh, she relaxed herself and began to eat.
-
“Stop squirming,” Jungkook said.
Belle scoffed, slouching on the couch after a good hour of trying to get into a comfortable position. Even the winter chills were turning into mere summer breezes from the way her body kept heating up. It was strange to have light snow falling outside and her body was adorned with a nightie. “I can’t get comfortable, alright? If you don’t like it, just go to your room.”
“This is my apartment too.”
“And you have a TV in your room.”
“But I want to be here.”
“Then stop complaining.” Belle shifted when the pooling between her legs was getting heavier.
Jungkook scoffed, raking his fingers through his hair roughly. “You know, I didn’t realize you had the potential to be such a bitch.”
“Well, we’re learning a lot of things, aren’t we?” Belle smiled bitterly. “Like how you have absolutely no patience whatsoever.”
“Sorry I’m not Taehyung keeping check on you like you’re a toddler.”
Thick scents of amber suffused the air and taunted Jungkooks’ nostrils. He tried not to scrunch his nose too much but it was strange not smelling the usual jasmine scent from her body.
“Just cause I don’t function like you humans doesn’t mean you get to demean my needs.” Belles’ voice had gotten deeper, eyes burning in anger and frustration. “Especially you. Acting like the nice best friend to Taehyung for months on end but the moment you have time alone with me, you act like I don’t exist. You’re no different than those people Taehyung works with—”
Jungkook grabbed the back of her neck and pressed a kiss on her lips. The desperately loyal part of Belle screamed to pull away. But whenever she tried, the warmth of another’s lips and the grip on her neck only caused her to whimper. He pulled away then. Chests rising and falling in the new brewing heat.
Belle hated her body for trying to grab onto him again. She tried to muster a frown. “Did you just do that to shut me up?”
“I can’t watch you ruin yourself.” Jungkook tightened his grip into her hair. “So please, for the love of god, fuck me.”
Like a trigger pulled on a gun, Belle pounced on the male, lips crashing against each other as her hands moved down to pull her panties off. She threw the flimsy material on the floor without a care before moving to straddle the male on the couch.
Jungkook pushed down his sweatpants and boxers, bare skin meeting the soft surface of the couch.
Belle raised herself until she felt his tip position at her sloppy entrance. She slid down slowly, the almost nonexistent sleeve of her nightie slipping down her shoulders. Without waiting a second longer, Belle moved up and down his cock, snug walls hugging him perfectly. There was no more time to wait. She didn’t want to wait.
He pushed up her dress, kneading her ass and forcing her hips to grind against his own. “F-Fuck…”
Belle threw her head back, hands placed on the back of the couch. Her breasts bounced along with her movements, nipples peeking out a little.
Jungkook growled lightly wrapping his strong arms fully around her waist before pounding up in to her pussy. He moved at a dizzying pace, balls slapping against her ass like a round of applause.
The sounds drowned Belle’s choked screams infused in an overwhelming pleasure as his lower belly roughly rubbed against her clit. “O-god.” She whimpered, gripping at the couch pillow until she scratched one of them.
Slowing his thrusts down, he moved deep inside her, feeling his cock drowning in her arousal. Jungkook kept his hold and turned them around so she was on the couch instead.
She immediately spread her legs apart watching him lean in and drink in her leaking core. Her hand moved to his hair.
Tongue lapped at her clit as he snuck a finger prodding at her slit. Jungkook slid inside with so much ease that a moan emitted in his throat. Then he slid another. Her heat burned against his flesh. Curling his digits upward, he rubbed against the spot inside her. His thumb brushing against her clit, he drilled his fingers into her pussy.
Belle let out a small sob in between her moans. Nails digging into her thigh as she watched her pussy spluttering out her arousal onto his hands moving at lightning speed. The pleasure coiled in her lower belly; tightening beyond control.
Knuckles deep inside her, he felt it getting hotter and more sloppy causing his member to spurt more arousal onto the floor. “That’s right, baby…” He whispered, dipping down and wrapping his lips around her clit, suckling like his favourite treat as his fingers continued to pound into her.
Belle’s body shook like insanity embodied, the heat gathering in her lower belly almost unbearable as she felt a heaviness ready to burst. “I’m gonna cum, Kook—” She cried out, thrashing against the messed up pillows.
The coil then sprung out in a light gush of clear liquid, squirting out of her as Jungkook kept moving his fingers in and out while suckling on her throbbing clit. He felt wetness dripping down his hand, soaking into the couch but it only made him hungrier for more as he growled against her puffy, sensitive pussy.
Belle winced from a slight ache as he continued to go beyond her sensitive point. “Ah-Kook-“ She pushed him away gently causing him to chuckle a little.
“We’re not done yet, baby.” Jungkook smirked, picking her up again, off the couch and turning her around. He bent her over so her breasts pressed against the wet stain. “Look at the mess you made.”
Belle replied in a whimper, swaying her ass his way until she felt his leaking tip brush against her. The stamped down pleasure reignited quicker than her own body could handle it. She wanted more. A sharp pain swung on her ass cheek causing her to let out a throaty chuckle as she swayed again. Much to her pleasure, Jungkook landed another swing on her ass cheek much harsher than the first. “Do it again.”
Jungkook obliged, slapping it once again. His tip rubbed in between her blushing cheeks to gain some friction when he landed another smack. Pressing his sweat layered chest to her back, he jabbed his glistening fingers through her lips. He hungrily watched Belle suckle on her arousal. Jungkook took a cheeky moment to push it down her throat until she gagged. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed onto her neck. “You want more?”
“Yes,” Belle whispered, desperately swaying her hips to gain his fill again.
“Yeah?” Jungkook pushed his length in, moaning at how much her walls still closed in on him, pushing him further over the edge. Veined fists pressed against the couch, slamming his hips against hers.
Belle rested her cheek against the soaked fabric. The smell of her own arousal made her mad with ecstasy, light groans emitted in her throat, her lower belly tightening again. The couch shifted and creaked at every thrust as her legs lost all ability to move properly.
Jungkook growled as the heaviness in his lower belly became hard to control, screaming to release. “I’m coming…” He breathed out.
“Come inside me.” Belle reached behind her to grab the back of his neck. “Please, come inside me,” she cried out.
Forehead pressing against the top of her head, Jungkook gave into frantic thrusts. Pleasure burst out of him in a thickened wave. Fingers dug into the cushion as a shaky moan passed his lips.
Belle grinned in complete bliss as her orgasm pounded through her, knees trembling and her body convulsing until she swore she saw stars. So many days of keeping herself contained. The proper pleasure of Jungkook filling her up brought her to tears, dripping onto the already ruined couch cushions. She giggled through her light sobs.
“Hey—” Jungkook brushed her hair away from her sweat-layered temple. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” Belle grinned, sniffling. “Thank you.”
Jungkook chuckled. “First time I’ve heard that after sex.”
The rest of winter moved a lot smoother and warmer for Belle and Jungkook.
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indianamoonshine · 3 years
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Strawberry | Chapter 13 | Common Tongue
Summary: This chapter is titled after a Hozier song. Take that as you will.
Rating: M. If I see anyone minor interacting with this or hear of anyone reading it, I will block your ass.
TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople @literallydontlook
“I’m a virgin,” you had said to him one night.
It meant nothing.
It meant nothing because, to him, you were the same with or without having slept with someone. Din knew that - had you chose him - it would be an honor. He would think no differently of you either way, and that even if the two of you never had sex, he was glad to have met you.
Now he thinks he may be addicted.
Part of him really wishes that you hadn’t gone this far; that the innocence would have lasted until whenever it was that he forced to leave. Because now he was in over his fucking head.
Behind the shed, you’d grabbed his hand and palmed yourself against the cotton of your underwear. The song of cicadas did a humbling job of masking your little pants or the way you whimpered beneath him. And, sure, Din did everything in his power to break traditional norms, but he wasn’t going to fuck you behind a shed for the first time. His heart broke when he separated himself from you and you whined underneath your breath in protest.
“Come on,” he huffed, lungs attempting to keep up. “Let’s go.”
|
Three minutes.
That’s how long it took to run from the main house to the cabin. Three goddamned minutes was a record. You don’t recall running that fast since becoming an adult. If your high school gym teacher has witnessed the velocity in which you just sprinted, she’d be amazed.
It was good old fashioned motivation.
Fortunately, Din’s barely taken his hands off of you so he managed to catch your clumsy ass when you tripped over the lip of the front door. The two of you had chuckled against the other before he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you giggle. You place a hand upon your cheek in feign distress. “But I think I may need to lay down…”
Your tone, which is laced with suggestive demure, has Din raising a brow. “Oh yeah?” he growls.
You nod sweetly, lips still pressed against his. “Mm hm.”
|
You’re so goddamn beautiful.
When he presses you against the plushness of the sheets, he admires the way your hair fans about you and frames your face. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips plump from his kiss, the natural pout of them more pronounced now that he’s bitten and sucked at the flesh. The brilliance of your skin glows beneath the yellow light, neck joining the expanse of your bust which heaves with endurance. He kisses down your pulse point until he reaches the neck of his t-shirt.
His t-shirt.
“Can I?” he whispers against the hollow of your neck, fingering the edge of the fabric.
“Yes.”
|
You’ve never been this exposed to anyone other than the occasional friend (when changing) or your sisters (also when changing). It’s been so long since you’ve gone outside of yourself - into the very thick of reality - so when he asked if he could reveal you to it, the urgent “yes” surprised yourself.
Still - it’s another kind of anxiety; not violent, but in the way. When he’s stripped the shirt from your body - carefully, as though he were unwrapping a priceless antique - it’s a natural instinct to cover yourself, confident of the way you weren’t.
“Take all the time you need,” he whispers against the flesh of your neck. “I’m a patient man.”
It should’ve been enough and maybe in an alternate universe it was. Maybe that version of you threw all misogynistic beauty standards out the window into the night, but in this present day-in-age, you took a minute to go over the mental checklist. What if you weren’t to his standards? What was the situation like down there? What would you do if he wasn’t all that you decided him to be?
How long would it take to heal from that?
Before your mother died she took your hand and made you promise: I will do everything I can to feel joy, as fleeting as it may be. There are lessons to be learned. She’d made you chant it in a monkish way, as though preforming a ceremony in the sterility of a hospital room strung with cheap tinsel and a sad, plastic tree at her bedside. You’d understood what she meant then like the way a student might understand the components of Ancient Greek; not until it is utilized can its full potential make any sense at all.
The philosophers - and your mother - be onto something.
|
Something like a muffled version of his name slips lazily through your lips. And while it’s dissected, pulled apart with a lazy and tense breath, it’s the first time his name has sounded poetic. Din never thought of himself this way; that his person could ever inspire such an organic response as the way you unwound beneath him. He’s laid with women before - three, he thinks - but he’s not positive he’s ever experienced a woman before.
Xian was good at what she did and she knew it; Din wasn’t oblivious to that but it lacked a certain something. The other times his body has been weaved together with another’s was faceless; just hookups he’s tried so desperately to forget. Hazy nights in which he woke up to in the morning, their backs to him, and identity indistinguishable. Eventually he just stopped trying.
It wasn’t until now with your fingers clutching at his hair that he realized how the act - the very dance itself - could be purifying. How it could wash away the very worst of similar experiences and how it made something that always felt cheap now priceless. The body is a temple, his elders would always say, and it never made any sense to him. The body is a fortress made to withstand hurricanes and torpedos. It was no place to kneel, to worship, to inspire anything other than sheer refuge.
How ironic, as kneeling was the very thing he was doing now.
Irony wasn’t the word. Fateful, he supposes, as he tastes the fruit that’s always been so forbidden to him. Your thighs clench around his head and the fingers that have been stroking his hair grip the sheets, white knuckling the starched weave, until a gasp is caught in your throat. And then there is nothing but the pressure of ignition until it crumbles around you, fizzing the air with something akin to champagne bubbles.
There is no nasally whine that follows afterwards like there always had been before you. No wild “yes!” that pollutes the air. Just the instability of a weakened chest, the grasping at air, and the delicious feel of your hand enveloping his after having pulled it from your sex.
|
You weren’t a stranger to penetration though this was was with exceptions; no one had ever done anything to you with foreign or, well, domestic objects. At the age of eighteen, your friends at the time had dragged you to the building on the east end of town that never officially existed until legality said that it did. La Boudoir Rouge was the place ‘vodka aunts’ went to cure the blues, bought mysterious items, and then hid the pink bags in the back of their closets.
So, yes; sex was a foreign exchange policy you’ve never found yourself involved in, but you knew the dynamics. You’d bought equipment and even enjoyed it more than you’d initially expected. Penetration wasn’t at all strange to you.
This made it easier, you think, as Din finally slides in. There was a stretch of course, and it took you a moment to get comfortable enough to brave any movement. Din drops his forehead upon yours, letting out a strangled breath through his nose, as you struggle to come to terms with the size. He’d given off an energy but…
“It’s so big,” you gasp once he reaches the spongey part of you. It feels stupid, it falls short on a botched intake of breath, but it’s the truth.
Din’s composing himself, silent in his endeavor to mold himself within you. His arms are pressed on either side of you, body flush against yours with his pelvis meeting your pubic bone. There’s another moment of silence before he kisses at your temple.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
A smile graces your lips, though your eyes are clenched. “That’s an understatement.”
|
The pace is fast, sweat inspiring. It drips down your neck until it falls in the valley of your breasts and Din wants so badly to lick it from your skin, but he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. It’s ironclad - it’s the best goddamn pussy he’s ever had.
He wants to tell you that but he’s unsure of how you’d react. You’ve been letting out delicious gasps and moans reaching an octave you’d never reach sober, but not you’re coherently vocal enough for him to say it outright.
And then you breathe it in a pathetic whine: “It’s yours, Din. It’s yours.”
He almost stops, but his body is hellbent on seeing this through. Whatever the fuck this was; a spiritual experience maybe. Perhaps he’d died after the last mission - broken and buried underneath mounds of dirt - and now rests in paradise where he fucks his way through eternity.
A raw, animalistic response possesses him, the fistful of flesh from your hips is replaced by the swell of you cheeks. He embraces you softly, but sternly enough to incite a whimper.
“What was that, chica bonita, huh?”
You throw your head back as he slams his hips against yours with more force, the excitement conjuring a great wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. You try to speak but it fails to materialize.
He was balls deep and you were still shy by your interjection.
“What’s mine, sweet girl?” he whispers, mouth tickling along your collarbones. The contrast of gentle words and barbaric thrusts is something he’s never experienced during sex. Ever.
You let out one more mouthwatering whine before saying: “My pussy is yours, Din. Take it. Please, please…”
|
Suffice to say, that’s what does it. The two of you cum at the same time, like a synchronized dance, clutching one another so tightly it leaves red ribbons. Your fingernails had dug into his forearms and his at your waist in which his hands wrapped around. He lets out a deep, broken growl as you whimper, shaking like a leaf, and he pulls out just in time to paint your belly with pearlescent threads.
He collapses on top of you, knocking the wind from your fragile body. You’re absolute jelly beneath him, crumbled into bits, and would never be the same. Let’s stay here forever, you want to tell him.
Din presses his face into the hollow of your neck, listening to the rapid pulse beneath flushed and thin skin. Then he kisses the blood flow beneath once, twice. “My gorgeous girl…”
Stay with me. Stay with me.
You wrap your arms - which have settled from the convulsions - around his neck and hug him tightly against you.
Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.
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