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#end private prisons
sounwise · 2 years
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Letter from Paul McCartney and Jane Asher [sent to Robert Fraser shortly after he was sentenced to several months in prison at Wormwood Scrubbs on June 29, 1967] Dear Robert, What a drag…you know what I mean. Brother Nick [Nicholas Fraser] rang and asked about the bread. All will be well, I’ll be back in London on Sunday, and on Monday I’ll sort it out. Everybody was amazed by the whole scene, as you’ve guessed, and rally is the word. Thursday [June 29, 1967] was one of those days…bank raid shooting, Jayne Mansfield dead…etc…and I tore a ligament in sympathy, so I am hobbling around the Wirral. Jane sends her love, love, and is baking a file cake. I send mine. The handcuff pictures in the papers are incredible, and ‘aroused public sympathy’. Mind you, a tennis player from the Upton Tennis Club (where balls are known as spheres) was overheard saying that he would have given the blighters ten years if he’d been the judge…What???… See you soon…nothing to say really. Sincerely best wishes Paul McCartney Jane Asher THE OFFICIAL ELVIS PRESLEY FAN CLUB OF GREAT BRITAIN
[—from Groovy Bob: The Life and Times of Robert Fraser, Harriet Vyner]
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red-moon-at-night · 8 months
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It's the only way they're going to find out anything about her... you gotta let her guard down with offerings of sweets and then ask questions. everybody wins!
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deliciouskeys · 1 year
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Zinc Molybdate is now complete
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41531043/chapters/104160903
Rating: Explicit
Relationship: Billy Butcher/The Homelander | John
Tags:Violence, Confinement, Loss of Powers, Physical Abuse, Imprisonment, Bondage, Slow Burn, Forced Cohabitation, taming, Discipline, Dubious Consent, Accidental Bonding, Homelander Whump, Blindfolds, Sensory Deprivation, Handcuffs, enemies to enemies with benefits, Enemies to Lovers, A dash of Stockholm Syndrome, enemies to lovers to maybe friends but it’s under duress and not healthy
Completed: 2022-12-11 
Words: 40k 
Chapters: 9/9
Illustrations from some awesome people:
https://mkqdot05.tumblr.com/post/701657441524416512/scene-from-chapter-2-of-zinc-molybdate-by
https://xieyaohuan.tumblr.com/post/697431014432178176/today-i-learned-that-zinc-molybdate-is-white-i
https://vanshoundd.tumblr.com/post/703283324701081600/zinc-molybdate-fanart-for-lexyhamilton
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mantra4ia · 7 months
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F*** prison geppetto, aka Arizona State Rep John Kavanaugh, f*** for-profit prisons, the system that profits from the industry off of mass incarceration, F*** the health insurance racket/industry, the sickcare system and just as a general rule...
F*** the capitalistic poison the erodes all levels of society when we prioritize profit over people with zero legal/social/economic consequence, thus eviscerating the value of human life and dignity in every way but shallow pulpit points.
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sword-days · 1 year
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DAREDEVIL In the Blood
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ausetkmt · 1 year
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What the DOJ’s decision to end private prisons means for Florida - The New Tropic
the Department of Justice announced that it would stop contracting with private prison companies because it found that they were significantly lacking in resources, less safe, and less cost effective than their government-run counterparts
When a prison is privately contracted, it’s completely operated by a private company — that means everything from staffing to services like daily meals and medical care is taken care of by that company. Private prisons get paid per inmate, so the more prisoners, and the more beds in their building, the more money they make.
The private prison industry really took off in the 1980s, when the government was seeking cheaper solutions for managing the country’s packed prisons.
In the Justice Department’s memo about ending the use of private prisons, Deputy Attorney General Sally Yates wrote that the federal prison population had increased by 800 percent from 1980 to 2013. “Private prisons served an important role during a difficult period, but time has shown that they compare poorly to our own Bureau facilities,” the memo reads.
Sign up for our daily newsletter and get The New Tropic in your inbox every morning. Check out our latest newsletter.
This was a pretty big deal, nationally. But it doesn’t mean much for Florida, which has the 10th highest rate of incarcerations nationwide.
Of the 103 federal prisons controlled by the Department of Justice, 13 are run by private companies. None of them are in Florida, though. The federal prisons in Florida are already publicly run and all the rest, whether public or private, are run by the state.
In sum: The US has federal prisons and state prisons. The DOJ decision only applies to federal prisons, so it won’t bring any changes to Florida. But it could start to change the conversation on the value and effectiveness of private prisons around the country.
At the federal level:
There are 211,000 inmates in US federal prisons, 22,104 of them in private prisons. These are the ones affected by the DOJ announcement.
Lots of people are putting pressure on the Department of Homeland Security to stop using private prisons for immigration detention facilities, too. There are 33,000 inmates in Immigration Detention Facilities, with nine of the 10 largest operated by private companies.
Two of the largest private prison companies, Florida-based GEO Group (who donates a bunch of cash to Sen. Marco Rubio) and the Corrections Corporation of America, get a big portion of their business.
Florida has nine immigrant detention centers, including the the Krome Detention Center in Miami-Dade.  (In Florida, Krome is operated by Akal Security. The Broward Transitional Center is operated by GEO Group. These will continue to be privately operated.)
At the state level:
In Florida, the Department of Corrections oversees adult prisons. The Department of Juvenile Justice oversees prisons for inmates under the age of 18.
There are 56 state prisons, and seven are private. There are roughly 100,873 inmates, and more than 11,000 in private facilities. We’re not going to see anything change there because of this announcement.
All of 21 of Florida’s Juvenile Detention Centers are privately run. There are 1,306 beds in total. In FY 2009-10, 25,008 inmates went through the 21 centers. These also aren’t changing.
(There are also 67 county jails, which house inmates while they’re on trial or incarcerated a short amount of time aka less than one year.)
What decides whether you get put in a federal prison or a state prison?
Federal prisons house inmates who violate federal laws. State prisons house inmates who violate state laws.
If you commit a crime in one state, it’s a state crime. If you commit a crime across different states, it’s a federal crime. For example, a drug deal only in Florida is a state crime but multiple drug deals across Florida, Georgia, and New York is a federal crime. Also crimes that are against federal institutions are federal crimes — like IRS violations or mail fraud.
The Department of Justice will start phasing out their contracts with private prisons, hoping to cut the number of inmates in private prisons in half by May 2017. But state prisons and immigration detention centers are still business as usual.
“The DOJ announcement doesn’t have any direct effect in Florida, but it sends a powerful message that decision makers in Florida should pay attention to,” according to Adam Tebrugge, Staff Attorney for the American Civil Liberties Union of Florida.
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punkgemjasper · 7 days
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Finaly, some good fucking news.
After SEVEN years of waiting, of being lost and failed by the system, being wrongfully taken off of the waiting list I finally, FINALLY have an appointment to see a psychogist at the hospital!
It's not the NHS's fault. Mental health care in the UK has been hammered hard by the Tories. Funding being cut, not enough actual counellers and psychs to go around, waiting lists that last years.
But after years of fighting, I have finally got somewhere. Right when my MH has been the worst it's been since I was in my teens.
I can't express how relieved I am. It's going to be another fight talking and reliving trauma but I can see the road to recovery and better coping statergies ahead.
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Prison-tech company bribed jails to ban in-person visits
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!
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Beware of geeks bearing gifts. When prison-tech companies started offering "free" tablets to America's vast army of prisoners, it set off alarm-bells for prison reform advocates – but not for the law-enforcement agencies that manage the great American carceral enterprise.
The pitch from these prison-tech companies was that they could cut the costs of locking people up while making jails and prisons safer. Hell, they'd even make life better for prisoners. And they'd do it for free!
These prison tablets would give every prisoner their own phone and their own video-conferencing terminal. They'd supply email, of course, and all the world's books, music, movies and games. Prisoners could maintain connections with the outside world, from family to continuing education. Sounds too good to be true, huh?
Here's the catch: all of these services are blisteringly expensive. Prisoners are accustomed to being gouged on phone calls – for years, prisons have done deals with private telcos that charge a fortune for prisoners' calls and split the take with prison administrators – but even by those standards, the calls you make on a tablet are still a ripoff.
Sure, there are some prisoners for whom money is no object – wealthy people who screwed up so bad they can't get bail and are stewing in a county lockup, along with the odd rich murderer or scammer serving a long bid. But most prisoners are poor. They start poor – the cops are more likely to arrest poor people than rich people, even for the same crime, and the poorer you are, the more likely you are to get convicted or be suckered into a plea bargain with a long sentence. State legislatures are easy to whip up into a froth about minimum sentences for shoplifters who steal $7 deodorant sticks, but they are wildly indifferent to the store owner's rampant wage-theft. Wage theft is by far the most costly form of property crime in America and it is almost entirely ignored:
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jun/15/wage-theft-us-workers-employees
So America's prisons are heaving with its poorest citizens, and they're certainly not getting any richer while they're inside. While many prisoners hold jobs – prisoners produce $2b/year in goods and $9b/year in services – the average prison wage is $0.52/hour:
https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html
(In six states, prisoners get nothing; North Carolina law bans paying prisoners more than $1/day, the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution explicitly permits slavery – forced labor without pay – for prisoners.)
Likewise, prisoners' families are poor. They start poor – being poor is a strong correlate of being an American prisoner – and then one of their breadwinners is put behind bars, taking their income with them. The family savings go to paying a lawyer.
Prison-tech is a bet that these poor people, locked up and paid $1/day or less; or their families, deprived of an earner and in debt to a lawyer; will somehow come up with cash to pay $13 for a 20-minute phone call, $3 for an MP3, or double the Kindle price for an ebook.
How do you convince a prisoner earning $0.52/hour to spend $13 on a phone-call?
Well, for Securus and Viapath (AKA Global Tellink) – a pair of private equity backed prison monopolists who have swallowed nearly all their competitors – the answer was simple: they bribed prison officials to get rid of the prison phones.
Not just the phones, either: a pair of Michigan suits brought by the Civil Rights Corps accuse sheriffs and the state Department of Corrections of ending in-person visits in exchange for kickbacks from the money that prisoners' families would pay once the only way to reach their loved ones was over the "free" tablets:
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/03/jails-banned-family-visits-to-make-more-money-on-video-calls-lawsuits-claim/
These two cases are just the tip of the iceberg; Civil Rights Corps says there are hundreds of jails and prisons where Securus and Viapath have struck similar corrupt bargains:
https://civilrightscorps.org/case/port-huron-michigan-right2hug/
And it's not just visits and calls. Prison-tech companies have convinced jails and prisons to eliminate mail and parcels. Letters to prisoners are scanned and delivered their tablets, at a price. Prisoners – and their loved ones – have to buy virtual "postage stamps" and pay one stamp per "page" of email. Scanned letters (say, hand-drawn birthday cards from your kids) cost several stamps:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve
Prisons and jails have also been convinced to eliminate their libraries and continuing education programs, and to get rid of TVs and recreational equipment. That way, prisoners will pay vastly inflated prices for streaming videos and DRM-locked music.
The icing on the cake? If the prison changes providers, all that data is wiped out – a prisoner serving decades of time will lose their music library, their kids' letters, the books they love. They can get some of that back – by working for $1/day – but the personal stuff? It's just gone.
Readers of my novels know all this. A prison-tech scam just like the one described in the Civil Rights Corps suits is at the center of my latest novel The Bezzle:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
Prison-tech has haunted me for years. At first, it was just the normal horror anyone with a shred of empathy would feel for prisoners and their families, captive customers for sadistic "businesses" that have figured out how to get the poorest, most desperate people in the country to make them billions. In the novel, I call prison-tech "a machine":
a million-­armed robot whose every limb was tipped with a needle that sank itself into a different place on prisoners and their families and drew out a few more cc’s of blood.
But over time, that furious empathy gave way to dread. Prisoners are at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve. They endure the technological torments that haven't yet been sanded down on their bodies, normalized enough to impose them on people with a little more privilege and agency. I'm a long way up the curve from prisoners, but while the shitty technology curve may grind slow, it grinds fine:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware
The future isn't here, it's just not evenly distributed. Prisoners are the ultimate early adopters of the technology that the richest, most powerful, most sadistic people in the country's corporate board-rooms would like to force us all to use.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch
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reiderwriter · 2 months
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Okay so I have a small req (Honestly this is more of an hc than anything-but I need to share cuz vshvskhbjks) I feel like Spencer is genuinely so perverted when it comes to his girlfriend??? like if you leave your panties lying around he IS swiping them and he is not ashamed like...he may not do much in public but in private he will grab a handful of your ass or tits when he can like.....In the early seasons, I feel like he'd be a little ashamed but s13+? hell no, especially when it comes to him getting caught being a lil perv gfkjk (FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF IT ISN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA!!!!)
A/N; Gave this one some ✨️angst✨️ just because I could, but YES TO PERVERTED SPENCER!! YES INDEED!!
Summary; You get to know your coworker well after a decade on the job. You get to know just how much he loves to touch you and just how much you enjoy his hands on you as well. But after prison, something is changed in Spencer Reid.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ Minors DNI. Masturbation (M, F), oral sex (F), hand job, mentions of somewhat public indecency, groping, grinding, etc, unprotected sex, PinV, creampie, dirty talk.
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Spencer Reid had always been a pervert, and it took you six long, quiet months to figure that out. 
When you'd joined the BAU after years of begging for a chance, you were a team expecting field-hardened agents, and for the most part, that's what you'd got. Hotchner was as bureaucratic as they came, Rossi had been at the institution as long as the concept of the BAU had, and the others had some serious qualifications to their names. 
But Spencer Reid was the outlier. He was a bit timid in front of the others, always seemed to put his foot in his mouth when it mattered most and seemed to be patronized around the office a bit until it came to his intellect. 
And you didn't quite know how to act around him until you got to know him very, very well. 
A case in some state or the other had called for emergency motel rooms, unfortunate as some Nascar show or the other was rapidly filling up hotel room spaces everywhere. So, as the two youngest members of the team (and by far the most eager to please), you'd ended up rooming together in a double twin room. 
“So, Spencer, what do you do at night to wind down? Relax after a case?” The motel door had swung shut loudly behind you an awkward three minutes before you started the conversation, and you needed something to break the awkward tension in the room. 
“I… read, I guess?” 
“You're always reading. What book is it today? Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy? Maybe Dickens?” 
In response, he'd just awkwardly held up the book cover for a minute, leaving you to nod and let the conversation peter out. It wasn't the first time one of your conversations with him died out due to a mutual lack of skill, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
Giving in, you grabbed your bag and headed for the small bathroom, a strategic retreat to pass the time without having to acknowledge that the teams resident genius was ignoring you. 
Because he definitely was. 
You'd been on the team for six months, and you couldn't quite figure out why he'd never so much as asked you how your day was. He'd be jovially talking with one agent or the other and would clam up as soon as you joined into the fray. 
Spencer Reid was stuck in his shell, you'd been told. He was someone who didn't open up very easily, especially after his first few, very rough years in the BAU. 
You let each concern roll off your back as you showered and cleaned yourself up after a day of dumpster diving for clues. Your next aim was getting out of the shower, dried, and into bed before you felt the weight of his disinterest in you settle any heavier. 
“Hey  I'm all done now, and I'm gonna hit the hay, so bathrooms all yours.”
“Thanks,” he said and immediately strode in, shutting the door behind him without another word. 
You wished you could shake the man. You weren't exactly used to being so pointedly avoided by a peer, and it was honestly making you feel rather indignant. You wanted to grab his attention and hold it any way you could, so much so that your palms started itching. 
The sounds of Spencer's shower interrupted your attempts to rest, so you set about organizing your things instead. Folding your shirts, you placed them in your go bag, taking inventory on how many fresh outfits you had left and how much laundry you'd have left to do when the case ended. 
It could've been the haze of sleep, or perhaps just an early warning bell, but no matter how many times you counted, you always came up short by one pair of panties. It took another minute of blinking out the sleep in your eyes, becoming suddenly alert again, that you realized it was the pair of panties you'd been wearing before your shower. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, trying to fill the deep pit of embarrassment opening in your stomach before it swallowed you from the inside out. “Fuck.” 
When in doubt, you found it best to curse at least twice. 
And just like that your coherent thoughts went out the window - a morning, afternoon and evening doing manual labor under the guise of a nice desk job would do that to any girl - and you found yourself opening the door to the bathroom without knocking first or even remembering Spencer Reid's presence in the room at all. 
He froze in shock as you came face to face with him, shirt and pants open, his long cock in his hands and his face flushed with erotic shock as he rubbed up and down the length of his cock. 
“Shit, fuck, Spencer I'm sorry I was- are those my panties?” 
Rather unabashedly, your eyes hadn't left his crotch as he froze in fear at your intrusion. 
“I'm not a pervert!” He shouted, still unable to let his dick go, so close to bliss as he was. 
“You're madturbating into my panties, Spencer. What other label would you put on that?” 
“You're really hot. It's hard to ignore. I don't usually do this, but they were in here on the floor, and I thought about taking them back out to you, but then you'd think I was a pervert for touching your underwear and then I imagined you thanking me and putting them back on right in front of me and my cock was so hard and you said you were going to sleep. Did you know most men masturbate eight times a week on average? Me doing this once while sharing a room with you for a week isn't statistically …that …bad. Why are you doing that?”  
You'd been done listening halfway through and had somehow found yourself sinking to your knees. He'd rested his body against the bathroom sink, so you organized yourself in front of him, staring up at him innocently as you wrapped your fingers around his hand. 
“I want to see what it was you were doing with my panties, Spencer,” You moved his hand up and down his length, slowly dragging the lacy material across each inch. “Please let me see.” 
The empty shower kept flowing and the room was thick with steam as you kept up a steady pace rubbing up and downs Spencer's cock. 
A sense of achievement hit you with each moan and gasp he let out. Every time his hips thrust up into your hand, each time his hand stroked your hair in thanks for your copious attention. 
You'd finally gotten through to Spencer Reid in a way that you were about to make sure was mutually beneficial. 
His moans got louder and harder to conceal with a bite of the lip as he got closer to cumming. He really was a pervert, letting his coworker jerk him off in a motel bathroom while on a case. He was practically begging for release. 
“Cum for me Spencer. Make my face pretty, please please please.”
His eyes shot open wide as you stuck your tongue out, just in time to taste his cum on your lips. A few stray ropes hit your chin and cheek as well, with the majority staining the panties you'd come in to search for. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” You giggled, wiping away his cum and standing yourself up to come face to face with him. 
“Y/N, it won't-” You cut him off with a kiss that he eagerly returned hands, falling all over your body in his haste to feel every part of you. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he was a cartographer mapping out its caverns, desperate to learn each soft caress you returned off by heart. 
“If you were about to say it won't happen again, I suggest you think again, Spencer. I want this to happen again. Regularly.”
You shut off the shower and turned on your heel, walking back out to the bedroom and out of the heat for a few minutes. 
“You want to jerk me off?”
“Yes.”
“And I'm the pervert?” 
“You were using my panties and your hand like a fleshlight, Spencer. Yes, you are a pervert.”
“I'm a pervert but you still want to jerk me off?” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.”
That's how it began. Your decade-long escapade with Spencer Reid. It wasn't that you dated. He was still unsure about how to approach you for another few months after that, but there was nothing like the relaxation of a few orgasms to really help you warm up to somebody. 
For the first few years, a case didn't pass without one of you slipping into the others motel room for some late night entertainment. 
You knew just how deep his fingers could hit inside you after only two weeks. You became obsessed with how well his cock could stretch you out, how his hands would gently rub around your clit in circles while you bounced up and down on his length. How he watched your breasts bounce with untold wonder in his eyes. 
You most of all loved that his tongue was as eager to taste you as you had been that very first time to taste his cum. 
Half the times he let himself into your room, he'd satisfy himself by eating you out lazily for hours on end, making you moan his name while you came on his fingers and tongue. Every flash of violet that he caught a glimpse of - that first pair of panties - drove him crazy. 
Motels and hotels and once the back seat of an SUV after a long drive became your time to get closer to your coworker. You never once thought of bringing this physical relationship home with you, though, and it wasn't a continuous thing. 
You'd had to take it easy when he got shot in the leg, not wanting to hurt him anymore. And again, when he'd gotten shot in the neck, though a few times he'd begged you to close his hospital door and help him out still. 
And you'd both distanced yourself after Emily's death and miraculous resurrection. Surprisingly enough,  you'd found your heart slightly twisted when he'd begged the team for help rescuing his girlfriend from a stalker. 
But you always found your way back in his bed with his tongue pressed against yours and his cock buried as deep into you as far as it could go. In the decade you'd been sleeping with the secretly perverted and somewhat insatiable Spencer Reid you'd never gone longer than three months without his body in your bed. 
Until he went to prison. 
The weight of your grief at losing him was unparalleled. You'd been heartbroken when Emily had died, but it paled in comparison to the thought of his isolation. Penelope had to remind you to eat, Luke had to engage you in conversation to keep you talking. 
Emily slipped a spare key to Reid's apartment to you somewhere around the three week mark, and you'd let yourself into a place you'd only ever heard described. You slept in his bed to feel his scent wrapped around you, touched yourself there to remind yourself that you were just feeling the loss of a sexual partner and friend and nothing more. It was lust and sexual frustration driving your depression. That was all. 
Spencer came out different. Everyone did. On the surface, he was still kind, still a little bit nerdy, and he still wasn't the best at reading social cues, but there was an intensity to him that wasn't there before. 
On cases, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and push a hand just slightly under your shirt while you introduced yourself to local detectives. He'd hug you at the end of every work day, breathing in your scent and telling you how tired he was. 
His hand would firmly cover your thigh and not move the entire duration of any car ride, team dinner or family event, and he'd kiss the back of your neck and grope your breasts each and every elevator ride you took alone together. 
Spencer Reid hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you for six whole months, and yet he hadn't actually touched you.
Every time you'd knocked on his motel door, he'd not opened it, and he hadn't once come to yours. 
You'd expected him every day for a week after he'd first gotten out and had even explicitly told him so. You texted your address, invited him over, and sent him pictures of you in those infernal panties that you really didn't wear that often anymore. 
He desired you still, you knew enough from brushing past him and feeling his semi push against your ass, you knew in every hug where he touched you just enough to know he wanted more but still had the control to pull away. 
You knew that he only kissed your neck, because if he kissed your lips his tongue would wander all the way to your cunt and he'd be on his knees between yours making you scream his name in pleasure. 
Spencer Reid wanted to avoid you, but he still wanted you, and after six months of celibacy you were tired of waiting around for him to finally crack. 
Emily had never asked for the spare key back. With 10 years of dalliances under your belt, you were sure the entire office had caught on, if not before prison, then certainly after his hands took possession of your body after his release. She wasn't going to ask for the key back because that was like asking a question she probably would sleep better without having the answer to. 
Spencer started his professorial work, and you finished some nights before he could manage the commute home, so it was easy to let yourself into his apartment for the confrontation. 
When Spencer finally turned his key in the lock, he found you there  on your knees on the floor in a matching violet set of lingerie. Not your originals, but certainly close enough - smaller, though. 
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 
“I'm just sitting here in my underwear for fun, Spencer. You should try it sometime.”
He frowned at your sarcastic reply but stepped closer to you, topping your head up to meet his gaze with a quick flick of his finger. 
“I mean it, Y/N. Why are you here?” 
“I…I want you to touch me again.” 
“I touch you plenty, Y/N. I touch you here,” he traced your lips. 
“And here.” His fingers fell to your neck, sweeping some hair off your shoulders. 
“And a lot here, too.” He cupped one breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze, and you let your head rest against his thigh as he slipped a finger into your bralette. 
“I want you to touch me more, Spencer.”
“How? How should I touch you? Be a little pervert for me and tell me, Y/N?”
Your breathing faltered for a second as he pinched your nipple and you bit your lip before you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 
“I want to feel your dick buried deep in my pussy. I want to cum on your tongue. I want you to stretch me out with your fingers and I want you to fill me up with your cum. Please, Spencer, I miss you so much.” 
He said nothing but withdrew his hand from your chest and distanced himself slightly, turning his face away from you. 
“Spencer, please, what's wrong? Did I do something-”
“Do you miss me? Or do you miss fucking me?” The words would regularly send you into an indignant stomp, and part of you was still begging you to let out a shout of “what the hell is that supposed to mean.” 
But Spencer was frozen still in the doorway of his house, almost statuesque as a melancholic look overwhelmed his features. 
Your courage drained your body as you stood up and pulled the shirt you'd earlier discarded back on. 
“Spencer? Look at me, please.” 
He did reluctantly, and that blank expression still filled his eyes with gloom. 
You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping yourself around him. 
You say there, head pressed into his neck, legs straddling him as his arms slowly came up to pulling you back in. Your heart beat harder by the second, and you counted down the minutes as you worked up courage.
“I missed you so much I drove myself insane. I had to sleep here for a week straight after they told me you were put in solitary. Every day, I thought of your hands on my body and how much I missed seeing your fingers flipping through a book on the jet. I missed asking you what you were reading, and I missed convincing you to put the book down.” 
You pulled your head up to meet his gaze and slowly let your mouth fall to his lips. It was slow, soft. An innocent peck in the context of your usual caresses. It spoke the words I miss you more effectively than your voice could, and neither of you seemed to want to part from the warm embrace. 
“I missed you, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, cutting off your kiss as you grew more impassioned by his touch, breathing harder and speaking faster and faster now as you kept on. 
“I missed you when you came back because you kept your hands on me. You let yourself enjoy my body in public but wouldn't let me share your bed in private. You hugged me, but you wouldn't let me hold you, and you have not once spoken about how you feel, you have not once told me that you are okay now or that you are not okay and you need my shoulder to cry on.”
He was silent until your tears sprung forth, and then he was everywhere around you, kissing the drops from your face, shushing you and whispering words of encouragement and thanks and love into your ears while he placated your breaking heart.
Because somehow you fell in love with the pervert who stole your panties and now you were sitting in a room with a mostly broken man, begging him to use you to feel whole again. 
“I love you, Spencer. Please, please let me touch you.” 
“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, hands finding your hips again as he finally pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
His nails bit into the skin at your thighs as he forced you not to move, instead grinding up into you after another heated kiss. 
“It was hard, but you kept me going. Memories of you, your mouth, your scent your wet cunt wrapped around my cock, you kept me alive in that place.” He worked you up with each dirty confession as his hands pushed the shirt back off your shoulders and bared the lingerie to him once again. 
“Then I was out, and you were still the same as I remembered, but I was different, and I needed more from you. But I couldn't take more, and I didn't want to ask you to give more because I could not beg one more person to love me.” 
“You don't have to beg, Spencer, I love you already, I love you I love you I love you.” 
“Y/N, you don't understand. I am completely enamoured with you. I want to possess you, I want to keep you in my room, I want to have a hand on you at all times. I want to put a bullet in any man who looks at you because you are mine. I'm not a pervert, I'm a monster, and I'm going to hurt you.”
“Possess me, hurt me, keep me, Spencer, do whatever you want to me, I will let you. Just please don't leave me.” 
Your teeth clicked together in his haste to recapture your lips again, his cock hard and already sprung from his pants thanks to two pairs of quick working hands. 
He pushed aside your panties, and he was inside you, pressed to the hilt recapturing the place that was home to him. 
“You picked this color for me. You wanted me to lose control and fuck you and you got what you wanted,” he whispered in your ear as you locked your ankles together behind his back. 
“I did.”
“Good. I'm going to rip them shred by shred from your body so nobody else can see you acting like such a desperate wet cunt ever again.” 
You let out a gasp at his words, and his tongue dropped back down your throat as he rutted into you ferociously. 
“Spencer, yes, fuck me. FUCK!” 
Your hips met his in a furious clash, his hand making their way around to your butt cheek as he aided your thrusting, pulling you up and down the length of his cock. 
“That's it, look at your boobs bouncing for me, sweetheart. Your body knows when it's being fucked right, it knows when I'm here, and I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, right baby?” 
“Yes, Spencer. Yes!” 
His hand came back up to your clit as you met his hips more enthusiastically than before, fucking yourself on the length of him. 
“You're going to cum on my cock. Show me how much you missed me,  missed this.” 
“So much, missed you so much, Spence….need your cum inside me, fill me up Spencer, please."
It took both of you only a few more desperate thrusts to reach the climax you'd waited half a year for. You convulsed on his dick, shuddering underneath him as he filled you with rope after rope of cum.
But when you had both caught your breath, you still didn't let go, still holding on to him desperately as of he'd vanidj in another second despite your confessions. 
“Y/N…” he cooked into your ear as you buried your face in his chest again. “Y/N, we need to get you to bed.” 
“I'm not leaving.” 
“No, you're not. But you're not sleeping on my couch either.”
You pulled away just enough to watch his face as he dipped down for another sweetly chaste kiss. 
Lifting himself up, and pulling his cock out of you, you whimpered a little at the loss of his warmth, but after rearranging himself in his pants, he pulled you up next to him and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he slowly walked you back towards his bedroom. 
“You really slept at my apartment?”
“I slept in your bed. I'm sorry, I know it was overstepping, but you were gone and I-”
“Missed me, I know.” His hands traced your spine again before cupping around your bare ass and hooking it under to touch your soaked cunt. 
“How much did you miss me, Y/N? How did you spend your nights here?” His fingers once again hooked under the panties, but instead of pulling them to the side, he quickly pulled at the seams, and you heard a ripping sound aa his eyes demanded the answer to your question. 
“Close the door, and I'll shoe you exactly what I did here, Spencer. I'll show you everything.’ 
2K notes · View notes
cats-obsessions · 5 months
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If Durge Could Recruit Gortash Headcanons:
Once agreeing to ally with Gortash, Durge can convince him to join the party, but only if they agree to kill Raphael. If Karlach is in the party, this may be done in exchange for Gortash to fix her heart if Durge can pass the persuasion roll on Karlach.
• Upon joining the party, Gortash shows up in a more practical armor set, still gold and black but not as decorated as his robe. There’s scrapes and dents on parts of it, clearly having been worn before. Durge can ask him about it in conversation and discover he has chosen to wear the same armor as he did when they robbed Mephistopheles Vault. He never repaired it and can tell a story for each scratch.
• He does a lot to try to jog Durge’s memories, and it works a some degree. We hear little stories around the city, some more suggestive than others.
• Old habits never die. He’s constantly touching Durge, always walks next to them, has a lot of strong opinions but will only concede to Durge.
• Durge persuasion rolls on Gortash are DC10 and under. Anyone else it’s DC30.
• He absolutely compliments Durge a little too much. And he’s always the first at Durge’s side after the fighting ends. Grumbles if he has to rez anyone else but dotes on Durge.
• Gets along well enough with Astarion, Shadowheart, and Laezel. Respects Minthara and Gale, sees them both as potential allies if they know their places. Absolute bitch to Wyll. Actively the number one Ravengard hater.
• If Durge can convince Karlach to stick around, she will only be in the same party as Gortash once or twice. She’ll confront Durge about it after and either has to be kept separate or leaves the party.
• If taken to Astarion and Shadowhearts’ personal quests, he’ll be surprisingly respectful, and will tell them they’d make good Banites, particularly if Shadowheart resists Shar. (Kinda think he would tell Astarion not to Ascend but for his own advantage of not having to deal with an Ascended Vampire and not wanting the hells to gain power from 7,000 souls)
• Random gifts pop up in Durge’s inventory. He says nothing about them. One is definitely the hand of an enemy.
• When in the House of Hope, Gortash will only allow Durge to enter the prison with him until the warden is dead. He’ll tell them everything, but won’t let the others see it.
• Killing Raphael is very emotional. He’s proud, happy, relieved, but being there shakes him up. Durge can hug him in private when they talk about it.
• If Durge chooses to save Hope, she tries to hug ‘little Enver, all grown up’ before they leave. He does not like it, but part of him is happy to see her free.
• Durgetash romance can initiate after Raphael is dead. Sceleritas is so fuckin' pissed. Like, he kinda ships it, but he CANNOT handle Durge getting labotomized again for this Banite fool.
• He has random little personal quests and pop-up events like his formal coronation celebration ball, taking Durge to a fancy dinner, dealing with fans, and assassinating a rude journalist who called him not-so-young-and-handsome.
• If taken to Lady Jannath's estate, she flirts with him. Durge has an option to stab her for this- just once. Just a little. She'll be fine! Gortash approves. He apologizes to her, but he's absolutely into it.
• His two allied pathways at the end are to remain fully evil and control the brain/Faerun with Durge or absolutely still be, ya know, Gortash but destroy the brain and become archduke without the tadpoles' help as he’s now viewed as the city’s hero. This is his least evil option and requires a Durge romance or at least a Durge that will remain by his side regardless and saving Hope as pivotal moments.
• Durge's alliance or resistance of Bhaal would significantly influence this. Resisting Bhaal lowers the DC on any persuasion. Failing the duel with Orin would block any option except controlling the brain with Gortash as he sees it as the only way to protect Durge. Because controlling the absolute would offer them a large enough following to grant them literal ascension to godhood, freeing Durge from Bhaal's control. Plus, you know killing a god would only inflate Gortash's ego more, and that would be his new goal.
2K notes · View notes
btsvt-bar · 21 days
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hurts so good
pairing ꩜ mean husband!mingyu x afab!reader
content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni)
author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are appreciated!
warnings under the cut!
warnings ꩜ smut, fingering, masturbation (m. receiving), alcohol consumption, angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, light degrading, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, spanking (he slaps her ass like 4 times), begging.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.���。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
You and Mingyu first met when you were kids. Coming from rich families, you went to the same private school. And to be honest, you really hated him back then.
When you were teenagers, Mingyu was really popular. He was good-looking and smart, being one of the top students of the school. All the girls had a crush on him, even if he was mean to them.
He had always been self absorbed and rude to everyone. Especially to you, and you had no clue why.
You were the quiet, nerdy type. You kept it to yourself, being too focused on your grades and on getting into a good university. Plus, you were basically the only one who didn’t think he was hot shit — but, of course, you’d never say it out loud.
Both of you got into Business School, so you never really got rid of him. His annoying personality only got worse, making you his personal laughing stock.
It worsened when your families merged companies. Coming from the food and beverage industry, and being good friends, it felt natural to merge companies and create an empire bigger than it was before. And, of course, that union had to be sealed with the marriage of the heirs.
When your parents told you, you had a nervous breakdown. They didn’t understand why, labeling you as dramatic. Of course they wouldn’t get it, Mingyu posed as polite and respectful in front of them. But you knew better.
That’s how you ended up getting married to the man you despised. Needless to say, it was the worst day of your life.
Now, three years later, you’re still trapped in a marriage that feels more like a prison. You sleep in separate rooms and on the daily basis, you and Mingyu never really talk, unless it’s a work matter.
Also, you have a terrible sex life. You can count on a hand the amount of times the two of you did it. Yes, you are physically attracted to Mingyu. He has great abs and a big dick, plus delicious big arms and a toned chest. The few times you fucked, you were both tipsy and had had a fight before going out to some company party. It was always angry sex, and you never talked about it the morning after.
With your 4th anniversary approaching, people started asking when are you going to have kids. You dreaded this moment, but it seemed like you couldn’t scape it anymore. It got you thinking about your “marriage”, about how you wished things would change and how you wished Mingyu was a good husband.
As you do your makeup for the company dinner you have tonight, you try to be mentally prepared to be questioned, once again, about your pregnancy plans.
"Hurry up, we’re going to be late" Mingyu says outside your room. You finish putting on lipstick and grab your purse.
You find him waiting on the couch, looking really handsome in his all black tuxedo. His eyes scan you head to toe. His face remains emotionless, but you notice his eyes lingering a bit too long on your wine colored lips and modest cleavage.
"Let’s go."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
The music is a bit loud, so you have to stay all the way across the room to chat properly with other people.
You are stuck talking to Mingyu’s friends’ wives. It’s not that you don’t like them, because you do, but the topic of the conversation is not something you want to discuss.
"Cheollie’s been so good to me since I told him I’m pregnant" Gwen says while smiling fondly at her husband, who's across the room. "I mean, he’s always been sweet, but now he’s so much more protective and loving…"
"Wonwoo was like that too" Claire comments. "And he’s just the perfect father. Always wanting to help me out. And he won’t admit, but he loves to prepare Yeji’s lunchbox." The other women coo, finding it adorable. But you feel your face twist into a sad expression.
You knew all of them were in an arranged marriage just like yours. How on earth you were the only one who got unlucky?
"What about you and Mingyu?" Mona, Jeonghan’s wife, asks you. "Are you planning to get pregnant soon?"
You take a sip of your gin and tonic, trying to come up with an answer. They all look at you expectantly, and you don’t have the guts to let them down.
"Oh, definitely! We’re trying" you lie. The other women cheer excitedly.
"You’re gonna have the cutest babies!" Claire says.
"Oh that’s for sure. And y/n will be the prettiest mamma ever!" Gwen gushes.
You start to feel bad about lying, so you finish your drink and walk away to grab another.
As you wait, you see Mingyu chatting and laughing with his friends. And it makes you kinda mad that he’s having fun, and you’re not. When you look back at where the other wives are, you see them caressing Gwen’s pregnant belly and you decide you’ve had enough. You walk over to Mingyu, his smile fading the second he spots you.
"What?" he asks in a harsh tone, left eyebrow raising.
"I wanna go home, I’m not feeling well" you say the first excuse that comes to mind.
"Are you for real?" Mingyu seems so annoyed. Seungcheol nudges him, letting out a quiet ‘bro’. Mingyu sighs. "Ok, whatever."
The ride home is tense. Mingyu was holding back so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the driver, but as soon as you’re alone in your living room, he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.
"Why do you always have to ruin the night? Honestly, Y/N, you’re so fucking annoying!" he spits out.
You roll your eyes, deciding not to take shit from him. "I was bored and wanted to come home. You could’ve stayed."
"No, I couldn’t. That would make me look bad."
Usually, you wouldn’t say what you wanted. You’d just ignore and go to your room. But today, after a few drinks, and having to hear for hours on end about how your friends’ husbands were amazing, you felt fed up with Mingyu’s bullshit.
"Maybe you should worry more about being a good husband than about faking it." you point out while taking off your heels.
"Excuse me?" his nostrils flare, signaling how angry he was.
You just shrug, not giving a fuck if he was mad. "It is what it is, Mingyu. You don’t even try to be nice to me, but you worry so damn much about how you’re perceived by others." By now, your purse was thrown on the nearest chair and you’re shouting at him. "I’m done trying to be nice, and I think we reached a point where we should get a divorce and move on. Our marriage is a sham and I’m so fucking done with you."
The man chuckles as his tongue pokes his inner cheek. He looks really annoyed. Mingyu sighs and empties his pockets, putting his stuff in a bowl on the small wooden counter.
You feel livid and his lack of response keeps your mouth running. "What’s so funny?"
"Nothing, just the fact that you think that this shitty situation is all on me." He rises his eyebrows. "Get over yourself, Y/N. None of us is willing to take the first step, that’s why our marriage is a shit show." Mingyu turns around and heads out to his room, but the next thing you say stops him dead in his tracks.
"Why aren't you willing to take the first step? What have I done that is so bad that you can't even be my friend?" A few tears escaped your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away. "Does hurting me make you feel good or something?"
He had to give it to you. You are being really brave, questioning him and talking back.
The small bar cart catches his eyes and he decides that if you're finally having that conversation — one you should've had years ago —, he needs a drink to get through it. The room is filled with the sound of whiskey being poured. Mingyu takes a long sip, almost downing down the whole liquid, and refills his cup.
If he were to be completely honest, he would say he didn't even know why he hated you. He just did. Nowadays, he didn't mind your presence for the most part. However, when you hit his nerves, he wanted you gone. "Hating you is as natural as breathing for me. It's always been like this, why change it?"
"So we can, at least, coexist in peace? Have some fun, even? I'm not asking you to be husband of the year, but could try to be an ok one." You say with a tired tone, the whole situation already taking it's toll on you. Copying his actions, you poured some of the amber liquid for yourself. "You can get some tips from your friends. They're nice to their wives."
Mingyu snorts. "Yeah sure, if you're going to learn from your friends how to be a good wife…"
"I'm willing to try, Mingyu. But I'm not doing this on my own."
You both calmed down quickly, the heated beginning reduced to a low toned conversation. You’re impressed with how well things are going, considering the two of you usually shout and exchange offenses until someone walks away.
"We can try." His voice is quiet. Mingyu's staring at you, his eyes filled with undertones you don't comprehend yet. His moist lips are caught between his teeth. Shaking his head, he places the empty cup on the cart. "This is funny, you know."
"What?"
You can see he's conflicted between saying what's on his mind and keeping his mouth shut. "You can tell me, since we're being honest." You encourage him.
He looks you deeply in the eyes and says "We just called a truce like two minutes ago and now my mind keeps whispering that if we were a real couple, this would be the moment to kiss and make up."
Your mouth gapes in shock. The few times you had sex before, you hadn’t kissed. Mingyu would fuck you from behind, fast, hard and with a lot of pent up anger. And that was it. So you were caught off guard by his words. Seeing your expression, Mingyu quickly added: "The alcohol got to my head, pretend I never said anything."
Before he can try to leave again, you grab his bicep. "I hate to admit it, but you kind of have a point…"
Both of you start to feel this weird heat spreading under your skins. You sigh deeply. It’s weird you know precisely what’s underneath those black clothes. Mainly because you feel like you’re going to have sex him with for the first time.
"Want me to fuck you senseless until we spend all our anger and then we can start over?" He offers with a crooked smile you never saw before.
You feel slick pooling in your panties, your body already reacting to his filthy mouth. This flirty, sexy side of Mingyu is new to you, but you’re already loving it.
"Are you for real?"
Mingyu towers over you, making you step back until you reach the nearest wall. "Do I look like I'm messing around? Do I look like I won't fuck you until we both forget we hated each other in the first place?"
His serious eyes and deep voice make you sigh and bite your lower lip, fully invested in him. He reaches out and caresses your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss.
You both moan at the contact. His tongue dominates yours in a second, imposing a fast rhythm. Your core twists, tingling in a way that nearly hurts. Mingyu grunts when you close your arms around his neck and pulls gently at his hair.
The room temperature rises, leaving you both hot and bothered when you break the kiss. "Go to your room." Mingyu instructs and you comply. The walk is torturous, with shaky legs and your skimpy lacy panties sticking to your folds.
You’re shaking a little when you sit down on your bed. The night went from 0 to a 100 in minutes and you honestly don’t even want to think much about it for now.
"Can I come in?" Mingyu asks on the other side of the door, knocking lightly on the wood.
"Yeah, sure."
Mingyu took off his blazer and necktie, and the first buttons of his shirt are open, revealing his toned chest. Once again, you evaluate his beefy body proportions and purr quietly. Gosh, he’s hot!you think.
The hunky man looks around, analyzing the stuff you have in your room. You realize it’s the first time he enters it. "Do you want to keep going?"
Your eyes meet his and, for the first time ever, you see he’s actually worried about you. You limit yourself to nodding. "I’m gonna need you to say it, Y/N."
"Yes. Please get over here." You plea. Mingyu groans and crosses the room. His pants feel tight and uncomfortable, his cock pulsating with each step.
He gets on top of you, bunching your dress up on your waist. "Fuck…" he hisses when he sees your panties. You feel him caressing your clit over the lace and hold back a moan.
Mingyu moves the fabric to the side, easily sliding his fingers through your dripping cunt. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do you get off on fighting with me?"
Your face grows hot, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or actions. He teases your hole, prodding a finger in your entrance. All air leaves your lungs. You let out a whimper, which makes Mingyu chuckle.
"So responsive." He removes his hand, his eyes searching for yours again. "If I knew you’re such a horny slut, I would’ve done this a long time ago."
"Shut up." You sass, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just shut up and actually do something."
"You better watch your fucking mouth." He manhandles you until you’re laying on your stomach. He moves you on his lap and uncovers your ass.
To your surprise, he slaps your right butt cheek. You yelp, feeling your blood pumping quickly through your body. He repeats his action, this time with more intensity.
"Cat got your tongue?" He mocks when you stay silent. Truth is, you’re clamping your lips together so you don’t moan. "You’re soaking through your panties… Is spanking one of your kinks?"
Mingyu gives you another sharp slap, but this time he massages your flash to soften the blow.
"One more." Your voice sounds croaky as you speak.
"As you wish." He complies to your request, giving you the sharpest spank so far. You whimper and Mingyu smiles, pleased with himself.
Taking advantage of your position, he slides your panties off and pulls down the zipper of your dress. With his help, you undress.
You’re laying naked on his lap and just the sight of your bare back and red ass makes the blood in Mingyu’s body flow directly to his cock. He sighs and separate your legs just enough to touch your naked pussy again.
"Mingyu please." You cry out loud, needing him to slip his fingers in your hole.
"Please what?" He plays dumb and you feel the smirk on his voice. "I don’t know what you want, you’re gonna have to say it."
You sob in frustration. "Did you really think I was going to make things easy for you?" Mingyu’s hand ghosts over your body, giving you goosebumps from the heat he irradiates. "I hate you, remember?"
This is absolute torture. Your body is boiling with desire and need, you skin nearly burning up. Mingyu traces your tights, his soft touch giving you goosebumps. "Finger me. Please, I really need it. Please please please." You beg and Mingyu chuckles again, amuzed by your desperate tone.
He parts your legs a bit as his big hands trail the path from the back of your tights to your folds. You feel one of his fingers tease your dripping hole and you clench around nothing.
You’re so wet that his two fingers slide easily into you. Your inner walls clamp down on his digits and he groans. "You’re so tight, Y/N. Can’t wait to feel you on my dick again."
Mingyu begins to finger fuck you with a lazy pace, pulling out completely just to push back in at once. Your head feels cottony, like your brain weights nothing. Out of instinct, you bite your own hand to keep your moans from falling off your lips. Your hips move with a mind of its own, pushing back to meet Mingyu’s movements. Soon enough he hits that gummy spot inside you that makes you shiver. He notices you’re close to your climax, so, out of spite, he stops his stimulation.
"Why?" you cry out, tears accumulating in your eyes. "I was so close!"
"Because it’s fun" he laughs while stroking your ass tenderly. "Be good, lay down and spread your legs for me so I can make you cum."
Your limbs feel like jelly when you scramble around to get on your back. Mingyu gets up and pushes his dress pants down along with his black boxers. His cock stand hard and proud, the red tip glossed with pre cum. You muster the strength to get on your knees and approach him, your hands grabbing his shirt to start unbuttoning it.
You work your way up his body, taking each button out of its house. When you take the last one out, your caress his big chest, feeling his strong muscles under your sweaty palms. You smooth your way up to his shoulders and push his shirt down. He’s finally naked in front of you, in all his glory.
You trail his arms and abs, all the way down to his rock hard cock. When you wrap your hands around him, Mingyu lets out a sigh of relief. You stroke him slowly while savoring his low, deep grunts in your ear. Soon enough, you quicken your pace. Meanwhile, all you can think about is his cock splitting you open and you feel yourself getting wetter.
"Tha-that’s enough." He reaches for your wrist to stop you after a couple minutes.
Surprisingly, he pulls you in for another kiss. This time, it’s a slow, passionate one. Without separating your lips, he leads you to lay down again. The new position makes Mingyu’s hips align with yours, and you start rutting each other like animals on heat.
"Seeing you between my legs is so hot." you confess when you part the kiss to breathe. "But it could be better."
"Yeah? How so?" Mingyu pokes his cheek with his tongue, his confidence unwavering.
You bite your lower lips for a second. "You’ll look hotter inside me, dear husband."
His smile falters, his eyes turning darker and darker with desire. You know you said just the right thing to spur him on.
"I’d hold onto something if I were you."
You decide to ground yourself by hugging him. Without hesitation, Mingyu pushes in in one quick, firm trust. He’s swallowed in by your warm, soft walls. You see when his eyes roll back in pleasure, and his reaction boosts your confidence through the roof. On the other hand, his big cock splitting you open twists and tightens the knot on your core even more. You know it won’t require much effort for you to cum.
"Please move" you whim and kiss his lips softly. "I need you to move."
Mingyu gives in and imposes a fast, rough pace. You sink your nails on his back, trying to keep yourself from moving too much. He slides in and out of you deliciously, reaching all the right places. You moan loudly on his ear, and he huffs and puffs on yours. The loud sounds of skin slapping, added with the wet noises coming from your wetness, teleport both of you to a world of your own. A world where the only thing that matters is Mingyu’s rough thrusts and the way your insides mold perfectly to accommodate his dick.
After what it feels like forever, Mingyu folds your legs to your chest, and the position makes him reach new places inside of you. It’s when he starts rubbing circles on your clit that you feel on the verge of frenzy. "I’m almost there." You announce.
His hips redouble efforts, and within a few seconds, and a chant of "cum for me, dear wife" your mind turns blank and your soul is lifted off of your body.
You nearly pass out, all the stimulation being too much for you. Seeing you so blissed out pushes Mingyu over the edge before he has the chance to pull out. He grunts as he covers your walls with his warm milk. Your arms fall limp on his back, and Mingyu’s strength also falters, making him drop his weight on top of you.
He rubs his nose on your neck in an affectionate gesture. You smooth your hands on his back in a retributive way. The two of you stay silent for a while, enjoying the proximity and giving yourselves time to come back down.
When Mingyu slips out of you, a stream of white floods out of your messed up hole.
"Fuck, I should’ve pulled out." Mingyu searches for your eyes, his brown orbs filled with worry. You smile softly at him.
"It’s ok, I don’t mind." You reassure him. "Just help me clean up, yeah?"
Mingyu gets up immediately and enters your en suite. He comes back a minute later with a wet cloth in hand.
"You ok?" He asks while cautiously rubbing it against your sensitive cunt.
"I’ll probably limp tomorrow, but I guess that’s the downside of fucking your hater, right?" You joke and he chuckles while shaking his head.
"Well, I guess we’re sort of friends now."
"Yes, definitely." You agree.
He discards the towel and lays back next to you. You’re under the sheets now, and your body feels completely spent. "You’re not going to sleep, are you?"
You nod, feeling your heavy lids take the best of you. "I sure am."
Mingyu gets on top of you again, and hold your chin to make you look at him. "I’ll give you 30 minutes to recover, dear wife." The stupid nickname rolls out of his tongue with an almost tender laugh.
"I thought you were fucking me until we spent all of our anger." you state, struggling to keep your eyes open. "I don’t feel angry anymore."
"I do." His eyes hold mysteries you’re yet to discover. "I’m not done hating you yet."
His low deep voice stirs your insides. You sigh, feeling your heartbeat increase again. "30 minutes and you can hate me all you want."
"Deal." He presses a kiss to your lips and goes back to the empty side of the bed.
You feel him scrambling around looking for the TV remote control. As you let your tiredness get the best of you, all you can think about is that you’re going to fight with everything that you have to make things work out between the two of you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
read next: fuckboy!wonwoo
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flowersandbigteeth · 29 days
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Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!
This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^
I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* ( ̄ w ̄)Ψ
Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader
Word Count: 6K
TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing
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“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 
The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 
“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 
“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 
The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 
“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 
He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 
“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”
The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 
“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 
Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 
“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 
The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.
“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 
“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 
“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 
The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 
“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”
He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.
“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 
“(Y/N).”
“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
You gave him a sharp nod. 
“I do.” 
He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 
“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 
He gave you a bright smile. 
“I do.” 
The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 
“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”
He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 
“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.
You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 
“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 
He chuckled.
“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 
He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 
“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 
He shrugged. 
“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 
You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  
“Maybe I should have let you die.”
Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 
“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 
You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 
“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 
You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 
“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 
“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.
His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 
“It won’t come off.” 
You nodded proudly. 
“Exactly.”
He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 
“Interesting,” he murmured.  
“What? What does that mean?” 
He smiled and shrugged.
“Lead the way, spouse.” 
You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 
“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.
“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 
He ignored you, looking around. 
“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 
You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 
“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”
You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 
“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 
He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 
“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 
Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 
“What are you doing?” 
He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 
“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”
Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 
“How long have you been living alone?” 
You blushed, embarrassed. 
“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 
“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 
You gave him an indignant snuff. 
“At least I’m not a thief!” 
He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 
“Hey! You stole that!” 
He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 
“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 
You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 
“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 
“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 
What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 
But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 
A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 
Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 
Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 
“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 
“Sit down,” you barked. 
A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 
“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 
You wrinkled your nose at him. 
“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 
He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 
“S-sorry,” you muttered.
“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 
You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 
“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 
He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 
“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 
“Why?” 
“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”
He sighed. 
“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 
Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 
“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 
He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 
“Thanks, doc!”
“I’m not a doctor.” 
He shrugged. 
“What’s the difference?” 
“Ten years of special-”
You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.
“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 
“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 
“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 
He frowned. 
“No meat?” 
You blinked at him. 
“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 
He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 
When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 
“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 
“Why, trying to run off?” 
He smirked. 
“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 
He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 
“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
“A couple of miles in any direction.” 
“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 
You shrugged. 
“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 
He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 
“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 
Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 
“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 
While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 
You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 
“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 
“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 
“There’s a couch in the living room.” 
He wrinkled his nose. 
“It’s covered in stuff.” 
You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 
“I’ll clean it up.”
You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” 
“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 
He patted your butt for emphasis. 
“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 
Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 
“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 
“They were going to kill you!” 
He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 
“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 
“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.
Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 
When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 
“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  
He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 
“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 
You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 
“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 
Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 
“Get in,” you said. 
Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 
“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 
You let out a long sigh. 
“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”
Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 
“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”
He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 
He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 
“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 
A long sigh slipped past his lips. 
“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”
Your mouth fell open. 
“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”
He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 
“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 
“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”
He smirked. 
“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 
He pinched your chin. 
“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 
Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 
“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 
You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 
The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 
“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 
You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 
Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 
When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 
The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 
Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 
“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 
Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 
Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 
You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 
You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 
Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 
Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 
“Morning, spouse!” 
Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 
“What’s that?” 
He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 
“Meat!” he announced proudly. 
You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 
“Where are you off to?” he asked. 
“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 
A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 
You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 
“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 
A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.
“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 
“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 
Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 
“Saber! There you are!” 
She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 
“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 
“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 
When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 
“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 
You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 
“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 
She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 
“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 
Saber’s shocked face tightened. 
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 
She scoffed. 
“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 
Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 
His brow drew, looking between you and her. 
“What child?” 
She huffed, frowning at you. 
“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 
She turned to the carriage and yelled. 
“Nora, bring the baby!” 
A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 
Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 
“This…he…is mine?” 
Melody nodded. 
“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 
He glanced up at her. 
“You want to get back together?” 
She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 
“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 
Anger roiled under your skin. 
“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 
She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 
“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”
She fluttered her iridescent wings. 
“It only need be a fairy child.” 
You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 
“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 
She glanced at you. 
“What do you want? Money?”
You let out a tight chuff. 
“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 
Her eyes jerked to Saber. 
“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."
She glared at you.
"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"
Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 
“Have you named him?” he asked. 
She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 
“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 
He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 
“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 
“But Saber-” 
“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 
You jerked your chin at her. 
“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”
Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 
“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  
Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 
“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 
He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.
“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 
You smiled at him. 
“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 
The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.
“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 
He looked down at you. 
“You won’t miss this place?” 
You sighed. 
“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 
“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 
You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.
“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 
He smiled down at you. 
“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 
He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 
“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 
You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.
“I thought you lost it gambling?” 
He shrugged. 
“I lied.” 
“Why did you keep it?” 
He gave you a long look.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 
“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 
“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.
I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 
He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  
“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 
His gaze dropped to the baby. 
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”
He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 
“What about Arel?” you asked. 
“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 
You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 
“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 
He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 
“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 
Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 
Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 
“Is he okay?” 
“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 
Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.
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halfagone · 1 year
Text
A best-seller 'rags to riches to prison shackles' autobiography written by a woman in her late sixties, who was finally exonerated for the murder of her late, wealthy husband after 20 years in Blackgate prison, is getting a limited-series adaption. One of the most anticipated scenes is a exchange from early on in the book, in which the author describes a private, emotional conversation she shared with a young Bruce Wayne, where she recounts details about the passing of her son.
Countless fans try to theorize who will be casted as a younger Bruce Wayne. Some think it should be Damian Wayne, but many point out that he's too young for the role. Others think it should be Tim Drake, who would be at the right age to play it. However, as CEO, he doesn't exactly have an open schedule, and they haven't heard him disappearing for filming all those months ago. Other people think Bruce Wayne himself should play the role, using deep-fake technology to make him appear younger.
In the end, their questions go unanswered until the first trailer airs online for the limited series. It previews the very first glimpse of a young Bruce Wayne, played by previously unknown 'Danny Fenton', and the internet-
Loses its fucking mind.
(Bruce might just be getting a new son from this after all.)
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ashwhowrites · 11 months
Note
can i request a little bit of angst?
eddie is in his late twenties, finally got his shit together, a baby on the way with reader! and eddie’s OLDER brother shows up. he’s an asshole, exactly like their dad, tries hitting on reader, crashes on their couch, makes eddies life hell then it all comes to a head and they end up fighting!
I really love this request!!! 🫶🏻
Never proofread
I hope this is what you wanted, thank you for requesting <3
Happy ending
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~~~
If there was one thing in life Eddie didn't think he'd ever achieve, it was getting his life together. He never thought he'd make it out of the trailer park. And he definitely never thought he'd have a wife by his side and a baby on the way.
It took Eddie a long time to get on his feet. Selling drugs and living with his uncle was not the future he wanted for himself. He used his dirty money and got himself a shitty apartment, in the corner of the dirtiest neighborhood, but it was all his. And being on his own was something he could be proud about.
~~~
He was living in that apartment for around five years when he met Y/N. She moved into the apartment next to him, struggling to carry boxes through the front door. Eddie was happy he lived on the first floor, easily walking out behind her, trying his best to not seem creepy.
She turned around and screamed as she saw him. A hand over her chest. Eddie jumped at the scream, hands in the air to show he meant no harm.
"I am so sorry! I just wanted to see if you needed help." He offered with the friendliest smile he could manage.
Who would have thought in three years, he would have been marrying that girl.
~~~
Marriage life was the best thing Eddie has experienced, and he felt that fatherhood would be the same. He never knew how badly he craved a family until he was on the path of creating his own. He could start fresh, start a new family tree of the Munson name. A name that didn't have to be originated from prisoners, dealers, and being poor. He wanted the Munson name to be carried on through generations, with all good things behind it. Having a wife like Y/N take his name, told him he had a strong beginning.
She was around six months, her belly growing by the day. Together they made enough to buy a small home, in a safer neighborhood. Nothing too flashy, but it was their home and it meant everything. Eddie gagged at the thought of a white picket fence but he loved seeing it shine in the morning sun when Y/N watered the plants.
The nursery was nearly finished. The walls painted baby pink, and the furniture white. Eddie's favorite bands posted on the walls. He claimed their daughter needed to get her music journey started right away.
Eddie was the happiest he's ever been until an unwelcome visitor showed up at his door.
Y/N knew everything about Eddie, except his family. She knew Uncle Wayne and that was all. She respected that Eddie was private about his family and that he didn't care to share who they are.
So Y/N stood in shock when an older man stood at her door, the same shade of brown as her husband. A similar smile on the man's face, and a slightly bigger version of Eddie's nose.
"I'm looking for my brother," the man stated, looking her up and down. A tiny smirk on his face. But his smirk didn't give her butterflies, it made her stomach turn in a bad way.
She screamed for Eddie, a polite smile on her face. The longer Eddie took the more nervous she got.
"How far are you?" The man questioned, his hand reaching for her stomach.
She took a big sigh of relief when Eddie's hand shot out and stopped the man's touch from touching her. He stood in front of her. Completely blocking her view from the stranger.
"Little E, how the hell are you?" The stranger asked
"What are you doing here?" Eddie snapped. She watched as his body was stiff, she slipped her hand in his back pocket and stood on the side of him.
"Got out of jail, needed a place to crash. Wayne is going out of town and doesn't trust me alone in his place." The man rolled his eyes as he finished his sentence.
"I don't blame him since the last time you did you trashed it," Eddie said, his jaw was tight and his face was hard.
"Come on, E, help a brother out."
~~~
Eddie wasn't sure why he said yes, but he already regretted it watching the way his brother's eyes were glued to his wife.
"Quit staring," Eddie snarled, using his foot to kick him under the table.
Y/N hummed in the kitchen as she checked the chicken. Trying her best to keep her attention off of the two men at the dining table. She felt her body shudder underneath Michael's stare.
"Quite a woman you got there," Michael said, sipping on his beer
Eddie didn't say anything, accepting the silence instead.
Y/N smiled as she placed the food on the dinner table. Putting together a plate for Eddie and placing it in front of him.
"Gonna make me a plate, pretty girl?" Michael winked, his hand reaching forward to her wrist. She gulped and looked nervously at Eddie.
"Leave her alone." Eddie snapped
Michael put his hands up in surrender, making his own plate.
The three sat in silence.
~~~
Michael has been crashing on the couch for the past week, and every day he was getting on Eddie's last nerve.
Y/N worked from home and spent most of the day in her office, Eddie worked at a car dealership. He hated leaving for work and leaving her alone with Michael. He didn't trust Michael but Eddie's boss would also kick his ass for not showing up.
He kept his phone on him at all times, reminding Y/N to call the second she needed him to come home.
~~~
Michael said he found a friend to crash with and would be leaving shortly. Asking Y/N if she would help him clean his clothes and pack up his belongings. She honestly felt too scared to tell him no, silently scooping up his clothes and bringing them to the small laundry room. She excused herself to head into the shower. Eddie would be home within minutes so she felt safe to be in a vulnerable state, checking twice to make sure the door was locked.
~~~
Eddie pulled up in the driveway, bracing himself for another night of trying not to kill Michael with his bare hands. He walked in to see his house trashed, the cushion torn apart, and the cupboards all thrown open, he heard shuffling around in the bedroom. He raced to the noise to see Michael digging through their drawers.
"What the fuck? Are you trying to rob us?" Eddie asked in disbelief, Michael's backpack was filled with random items. Eddie yanked the bag out of his grip, dumping it all out on the bed.
He felt his blood boil when Y/N's ring fell out. But once his brain caught up with seeing the ring, his blood felt cold. She ONLY took it off when she was in the shower. Eddie turned his eyes to Michael, immediately shoving him against the wall.
"Where did you grab the ring?" He prayed with everything in him that she left it in the bedroom.
"She had it sitting on the bathroom counter, she couldn't see me with her back to me. Really hit the jackpot there, Eddie. Shes' smoking."
Eddie felt his stomach turn, he felt like he could throw up at any moment.
"You fucking pig. Don't talk about her." Eddie barked, twisting Michael's shirt in his grip.
"A really nice ass, I bet her tits ar-" But Eddie kicked Michael in the stomach before he could finish.
~~~
Y/N heard a commotion in the bedroom, fear in her stomach as she got covered herself in a towel and called Wayne. Racing out of the bathroom to see Eddie on top of Micahel, screaming and punching.
"OH MY GOD, EDDIE" She panicked, she knew getting in the way would put the baby in danger, but she has never seen Eddie so out of control.
The sound of her scream caused Eddie to freeze, and both men looked to see her.
"Eddie, stop," She said calmly. She placed her hand out, offering him to stand up. He took a deep breath and got off of Michael. Grabbing his bag and throwing it on him.
"You are out." Eddie snarled
Michael coughed as he tried to move his beaten-up body. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged Michael to his feet.
"I have his clothes," Y/N said, quickly running out to the laundry room.
Michael smirked as Eddie looked over at him.
"What asshole?" Eddie asked.
"I see why you knocked her up. When she was bent over that washing machine." Michael groaned, rubbing himself over his jeans.
Eddie lost it again, immediately throwing his body on his.
Y/N came back with the clothes to see Michael unconscious, but the look in Eddie's eyes was unrecognizable.
She didn't fear him, but she was worried for him.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Wayne came through the door, yanking Eddie off of Micahel.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Wayne instructed, grabbing the sides of Eddie's face, forcing his eyes to look at him.
Eddie's body was shaking, his knuckles cut open, and his breathing was quick and harsh.
Eddie locked his eyes on Waynes, allowing himself to calm down.
"I'll take care of him, hug your wife and go clean up."
Eddie listened in seconds, turning around to throw himself in his wife's arms. Allowing her to hide in his neck. She rubbed his back and cooed in his ear.
She took him to the bathroom to clean up his hands. Kissing each knuckle as she cleaned the blood.
"I'm sorry I let him stay here." Eddie sighed, he couldn't believe he was that dumb. He watched Wayne do the same thing with Eddie's dad for years, and yet he did the same thing.
"Don't be. You wanted to help and that was sweet of you." She said, standing between his legs as he sat on the counter.
They heard the front door close, Wayne and Michael officially gone.
"I'm sorry my family is a mess, this I why I never wanted you to know them." He added. His hands reached down to rub her stomach.
"Wayne is your family, I'm your family, and she is your family. That's the only family I care to know. Wayne raised the man I love and he is the only one I need to know. I have the two best Munsons in my life." She said, leaning up to peck his lips.
"Well, I get to have three." He smiled, kissing her back and his hand stayed on her stomach.
This was his real family.
~~~
tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila
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okaylikesmomo · 4 months
Text
Photographer Part 2
IU, ~5k words, smut, male reader, author's note at end with update
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“The only one.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Do you not trust me?” IU scoffed, crossing her arms and legs, the sass palpable as if she were filming a drama in her own home.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you replied. “I just know you love watching them squirm.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m such an evil person,” she whined. “I make it worth their while, don’t I?”
“Hey I’m not complaining, I was in that exact situation only like a month ago and loved every second of it.”
“And look how far you’ve come, you’ve become so audacious,” she replied, licking her lips at that last word. “But I sorta miss when you were a stuttering mess.”
“I can pretend to be awestruck again if it’ll make you feel better,” you joked, sitting down next to her and wrapping your arm around her shoulder.
“You’re IU! B-B-But you’re IU!” she teased, lips curled into a sly smile.
She began to giggle as your hand dropped off her shoulder, tickling her ribs playfully.
Her smile was pretty, but her laugh was to die for.
“Okay stop!” she gasped, falling over onto her back.
“Apologize,” you demanded, leaning over her body, locking her in place.
She looked up at you with that mischievous grin - the one she flashed so often lately - on her face.
“No.”
Commotion broke out as you began relentlessly tickling her again, both of your hands toying with her sides. You couldn’t help but join in on the laughter as her shrieks filled the room; It was impossible to not smile.
“Please!” she wheezed, completely out of breath.
“Say it.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped for air as you finally let up, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “I could get you in… so much trouble… for that.”
“Tell them and then I’ll tell everyone about how you’ve been taking my di-”
“See what I mean, audacious,” she cut you off while smirking up at you.
“I’ve learned from you,” you replied, leaning forward and giving her a short kiss on the mouth. “Take whatever I want, whenever I want it.”
“Strictly speaking, you’re still under that NDA,” IU threatened casually.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t actually dare tell anyone about this,” you replied, running your hand through her hair. “I’m a gentleman.”
“Well I hope you’ll be enough of a gentleman to pardon me for just a bit,” IU said while gently pushing you off her. “I do actually have to get back to work at some point.”
“Has it really already been an hour?” you asked, sitting up on the couch, freeing IU from her prison.
“Hour and fifteen,” IU laughed while collecting her discarded clothes from around the room.
“Wait, just one last thing,” you requested, reaching forward and pulling her hand towards you.
She walked up right in front of you, looking down at you with a puzzled expression. Before she could ask what you wanted, you leaned your face forward between her legs and planted your lips against her bare thigh. You left a long, wet kiss on her skin before looking up at her.
“You’re IU.”
She rolled her eyes before bursting out laughing.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to go out instead of ordering in?”
IU bit her lip nervously, looking at you with a face full of remorse.
“Does it bother you?”
“Not particularly, but I do sometimes wonder if it would really be that big of a deal,” you speculated, taking a bite of sweet potato. “What do you think?”
“I’m just…” she hesitated, poking at her food. “The thing is, I really like what we have going on. I don’t want to risk ruining it.”
“Ruining it?”
“It’s more like, I know how some fans can be,” she clarified. “I’m scared some of the more dedicated ones might… you know…”
“Understandable,” you said quietly, taking a piece of fish between your chopsticks.
“That’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured her, placing your hand on top of hers. “It makes sense, I agree that we should keep whatever this is more private.”
“Whatever this is…” she mumbled.
The two of you made silent eye contact, forgetting about the dinner spread across the table. You stared into her soft, marble-like eyes, getting lost in her gaze. She was special, you just knew she was special, and you were afraid to lose her. Despite the nervousness, it felt like the right time to ask.
“What exactly is this?”
Silence. An hour of it - or realistically probably just a few seconds - your world stopped. Ever since you had the pleasure of working with IU, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. The two of you would meet almost daily, unless her schedule kept her too busy; the days you didn’t meet, you would still text. You felt like you really knew her.
“I don’t really know,” she answered softly.
“Neither do I,” you said before awkwardly poking at your food, suddenly regretting asking the question. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
“Don’t,” IU responded sternly. “I may not know exactly what this is, but there’s nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You…” she let out a puff of air from her nose before chuckling. “I’m fine with letting things run their course and just seeing what happens if you are.”
“Yeah, that works for me,” you smiled back.
She let out a relieved sigh before finally taking a bite of food.
“If you really want,” she said after swallowing, her tone changing entirely. “Pick a restaurant, I can book the whole thing for us.”
“Do you have any idea how hot that was?”
“Not exactly my intention.”
“Yet, here we are.”
“So what is it,” IU smirked, pushing her plate to the side and planting her elbows on the table, leaning forward with her face in her hands, like a flower blooming. “What are you in the mood for?”
“You know what I’m really in the mood for.”
“I want to hear it,” she purred.
“I’m looking right at it,” you answered, pushing your plate to the side as well.
“Don’t you ever get tired of that one?” she smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You get it all the time.”
“No, never,” you replied while walking around the table in front of her, leaning forward in front of her face with your hands on her arm rests, trapping her in place. “Never.”
“You know you got me in trouble earlier,” IU whined frivolously. “They said I was late.”
“Aren’t you like their princess, who cares?”
“I’m not a princess.”
“Can the amazing IU even get in trouble? Is it even possible?”
“I can!” she protested, unintentionally becoming the most adorable girl on the planet as her sharp eyes contrasted the subtle pout of her lips. “I still have responsibilities, you know, I don’t just show up, take a couple of pictures and leave.”
“Hurtful,” you laughed, standing up straight. You pushed her hair back behind her ear, stroking it softly, admiring the light makeup she was sporting tonight, her charmingly elegant look. That sweet, genuine smile she wore as she looked up at you with her natural innocence - the innocence that hid her true intentions. “You shouldn’t be late, it’s not very responsible of you.”
“I know,” she replied softly, keeping her gaze locked on you, only breaking eye contact for a brief moment to peek at your crotch.
“So the princess learned her lesson?”
“Need I remind you about why I was late?” her expression switched to annoyance. “And I’m not a princess.”
“I would love a reminder,” you smirked, reaching forward to slip the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder.
“You’ll never get one if you keep calling me a princess,” she hissed angrily - yet she made no attempt to stop you as you slipped the other strap off.
“You’re right, you’re not a princess,” you said calmly. “You’re more beautiful than a princess.”
To your lovely surprise, this got her flustered. Flattery almost never worked on her - she was too used to hearing it. Yet her soft features, glowing with a gentle blush, showcased her beauty wonderfully. She looked stunning tonight, just like she did every other night, the perfect visual.
“Tell me more about your responsibilities,” you continued, stepping even closer towards her, easing the thin fabric down until it just barely covered her chest.
“It’s my responsibility to make sure my staff is happy working with me,” she said as she rubbed her hand up and down your crotch, outlining your shaft with her fingers.
“Last I checked, I work for you from time to time,” you said back. “How exactly do you keep them happy?”
“It would be easier if I just show you,” she said while tugging at the drawstring of your pants. “If I have your permission.”
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want,” you answered, holding her hair out of her face as she began slowly easing down your pants. “Isn’t that how this works?”
“That’s exactly how this works,” she mumbled as she pulled down your clothes, freeing your cock from its modesty. “I love how you’re always so excited to see me.”
“Yeah, after all-” you gasped sharply as her tongue made contact with your shaft. “Who wouldn’t be? You’re IU.”
Her lips curled up as her eyes squinted just a bit while she slowly, painfully slowly, ran her tongue up your cock. You took the opportunity to slide your hand down her gown, taking her soft nipples between your fingers, playing with her body with utter freedom.
She reached your tip with her mouth, the way she looked at you. Overwhelming would be an apt description, her eyes managed to be so delicate yet full of ferocity. Confidence, allure, she just knew how to make you lose your mind by doing the most subtle actions, descriptions just couldn’t do her beauty justice.
Your tip was getting all of her attention now as she swirled her tongue, an expert with her mouth, round and round. Her soft lips pressed against your cock, leaving gentle kisses all over the tip while that unbreakable eye contact kept you fixated on her pretty face.
Kiss after kiss, not caring at all about the little bit precum already leaking. She just kept kissing your tip until she was finally satisfied, giving your hole a few gentle prods with her tongue before moving down your shaft, planting her lips on each and every section of your length.
The eye contact never broke. Not once. The most you got was a subtle squint when you would pinch down with your fingers. Even as her lips made it down to your balls, your cock resting on her face, she still kept her gaze on you.
“You’re beautiful,” you muttered, taking one hand out of her top and running your fingers through her soft hair.
Gently, she ran her tongue up your shaft, the blush on her cheeks confirming she heard your comment. Without even lifting her tongue off your cock, she opened her lips wide and slipped the tip into the warmth of her mouth. As she slowly moved down your cock, eyes still locked on yours, the excessive wetness of her mouth began coating your entire cock.
She sucked you off with utmost enthusiasm, repeatedly sending impulses up your spine. One hand was on the table in a feeble attempt to hold yourself up, while your other hand was holding back her hair. With how beautiful IU was, you didn’t want to miss it for a second.
The difficult part, however, was ignoring the haziness in your eyes. The softness of her mouth around your cock was desensitizing your entire body. For the next couple of minutes, it felt like your cock was the only part of your body that existed, and it lived happily halfway down IU’s throat.
It became too much for you. The urge took over - you needed her. You pulled your hips back, letting your cock escape IU’s lips before immediately pulling her up off the chair. Before she could even react, you had picked her up by her thighs and carried her over to the couches behind the dining table.
“Wow, do you have any idea how hot that was?” IU gasped as her back hit the cushions.
“Exactly what I intended,” you replied with a smile.
The smile on your lips was immediately pressed against IU’s mouth as you leaned forward over her. With your tongue down her throat, you yanked her little nightgown down and cupped her small breasts between your fingers as her legs wrapped around your waist.
Your throbbing cock was pressed against her underwear as the soft dress bunched up at her waist, exposing her soft thighs. You began rubbing your cock against the thin chiffon between her legs, her wetness being felt through the thin fabric.
Soon, both of your hands had abandoned her chest and made their way down her body. You had two handfuls of her soft thighs pressed between your fingers while your lips continued their gentle massage against IU’s mouth. She was intoxicating.
It was difficult to stop kissing her, near impossible at this point. Until she took the short instant that your lips parted with hers, while you took a quick breath, to speak words directly into your face.
“Hurry up and take me,” she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.
After a sharp inhale, you reached a hand between her legs, pulling her soaked underwear to the side and pressing your cock against her bare, warm, wet folds. Her body welcomed you, silently begging for you to enter.
Before you plunged your cock into her warm embrace, you leaned your mouth forward into the crevice of IU’s neck that she was presenting to you. Her gorgeous scent filled your senses as your mouth began kissing her smooth skin, right before you entered her pussy.
The warmth and tightness around your cock was nothing compared to the satisfaction of the moan that hit your ears. You began aggressively kissing her neck, holding your cock about halfway deep into her pussy, relishing in each and every noise leaving IU’s lips each time your cock moved slightly.
Once she had a few seconds to adjust, you rested your face on her clavicle, using your hands to support your body as your hips started to move back and forth. She kept moaning, more pragmatically now, enjoying the sensation. It was like she had become an instrument, one that you magically knew how to play.
Sex with IU was insane. The girl was so unbelievably expressive, it was impossible to not feel like a king around her. You could happily watch her scrunched up face while you fucked her gently for the rest of your lift - it was utterly enthralling.
“I’m going to cum,” you moaned quietly, keeping the pace of your hips. “You’re going to make me cum.”
“Mhmm,” IU moaned back.
“Where?”
“Anywhere!” she cried out, shocking you with the sudden intensity, scrunching her face up even harder.
Her hands grabbed her dress, scrunching it up into what resembled a tiny ribbon just below her breasts, exposing her toned stomach. Her knuckles went white with how hard she was gripping the cloth.
Only now did you become acutely aware of how tight her pussy was becoming. It felt divine, but it also meant it was impossible for you to hold back any longer. You suddenly hit the point of no return, the tension building up all around your crotch. You were mere seconds away from exploding inside her, but the desire to paint her abs somehow prevailed.
Without hesitation, you pulled out and began stroking your cock over her body. The same instant that your tip left her pussy, a beam of white launched all the way up her body, leaving a streak of white across her stomach.
IU, finally opening her eyes, licked the back of her hand clean of the cum that splattered on it before intently watching your cock unload into her stomach. Her deep breaths were making the lake of cum spill over onto the couch - a problem for later. She smiled softly at you while rubbing her pussy with one hand slowly as your cock dripped the last bit of cum onto her belly.
However, you weren’t done yet. Swiftly, you moved back and shoved your face between IU’s spread legs. Her sudden shriek transformed into a moan halfway as your tongue began making circles around her clit. You were aggressive, making sure she felt every movement.
The hand she was pleasuring herself with had grabbed your hair, and you could feel her fingers digging into your scalp. Her other hand was interlocked with yours as you reached up to grab it, squeezing tightly. Your tongue was working overtime trying to get IU back to her climax.
Based on how her thighs began to press against your head, you figured it was working. You began sucking on her clit while bringing your free hand up and inserting two fingers into her pussy.
“Just like that,” she groaned softly. “I’m close.”
Her taste was intoxicating. You simply could not get enough. She began to leak profusely, filling your mouth to the point of her wetness coating your chin; you didn’t care one bit. All that mattered was making her feel good.
She began to hyperventilate, arching her back as her pussy leaked all over your lips and hand. You could feel her pussy squeezing your fingers, convulsing each time your tongue lapped at her clit. It was inevitable now - she was going to cum.
Licking and sucking, you went a bit longer, keeping your mouth open now to try accommodating the mess she was making. After just a short few moments later, you felt a small spurt of liquid hit the back of your throat accompanied by a very loud shriek coming from IU.
“Oh fuck!” she shouted, letting go of your hand and letting her whole body convulse in pleasure.
She had also let go of your hair at this point, simply leaning back on the couch and enjoying the moment. You leaned back slightly, watching her writhe and ride her orgasm out as your two fingers gently thrusted into her pussy. You brought your second hand up towards her clit, rubbing light circles while you watched her.
Her orgasm went on for a while, and you enjoyed every second of it just as much as she did. When she finally began to calm down, you slowly withdrew your fingers and leaned over her body. The two of you kissed again, IU’s eyes closed once again.
After the kiss, you simply lay on top of her body, feeling each breath she took. The two of you were a mess, but that was the least of your worries. You just wanted to hold her, feel her warmth, feel her lungs inhale and exhale. For a few minutes, the two of you simply lay there in each other’s embrace, silence broken only by the gentle breaths IU was taking.
“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” you asked, gently breaking the silence.
“I have a short photoshoot in the morning, and then I’m free.”
“Photoshoot? I don’t remember hearing about this.”
“There’s going to be another photographer,” IU answered quietly.
You sat up and looked at her as she tried to avoid your gaze.
“You’ve had plenty of photographers other than me since we started this thing,” you said cautiously. “But why does it seem like there’s something bothering you this time?”
“It’s… complicated,” IU began to explain.
“I believed you when you said you stopped,” you chuckled. “I’m not actually worried about another photographer working with you.”
“We have history.”
“What kind of history?” you asked hesitantly, starting to get worried by how she was acting.
She looked up into your eyes with a pained expression.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
“No,” you replied softly before moving over on the couch until you were right next to her. You wrapped your arms around her before continuing. “It doesn’t matter what you did.”
“He’s going to be the first photographer since I met you who knows about…” IU stammered, her arms latching onto your back. “What if he…”
“You can say no,” you interjected firmly, squeezing her small body tightly. You held onto her until she stopped sobbing, until her body stopped trembling, before letting go of her and looking into her face. “You’re not that type of girl,” you said softly as you wiped her face.
“What is wrong with me!” she shouted dramatically, tilting her head back to try and hold her tears in. “This was so much easier before…”
“Before what?” you asked while moving closer to her.
IU gazed deep into your eyes, her own sparkling with the remnants of her tears. She inched her face forward - it felt like she was taking an eternity - until her lips were as close to yours as they could physically be without touching.
“Before you,” she whispered before pressing forward.
It was impossible to stop thinking about it. You decided to work from home, IU’s home, because she refused to let you leave last night - not that you wanted to leave anyway. It would be fine under normal circumstances, but it did make it extremely difficult to stop thinking about her.
After accepting work was not an option today, you decided to just slack off on your laptop - something most employees already did when they worked from home. Time ticked away slowly as you spent the day switching between shows and YouTube videos. Luckily, IU’s home was painfully comfortable, there really were no complaints to be had.
Eventually boredom, or perhaps guilt, kicked in, and you decided to give work another shot. By some divine intervention, you managed to forget about the unforgettable girl for just a little bit and you actually got some editing done.
Taking the pictures was only a small part of your job, most of the time you were busy editing and compiling the best shots into sets for clients. As you sifted through picture after picture, you were once again reminded of how nice working with IU was. Working with someone as talented as her just made things so much easier, you didn’t have to delete hundreds - if not thousands - of ‘bad’ pictures; It wasn’t easy taking a ‘bad’ picture of IU.
Endless scrolling eventually took a toll on your mind, and you felt yourself slowly start to doze off. IU was partially to blame again: Why was every piece of furniture in her home so comfortable? It did, however, end up making your extracurricular activities with her quite fun. With all the options available in her home, the two of you rarely ended up doing much in her bed other than actually sleeping.
Your mind casually thought of all the chairs, couches, tables, rugs, and a number of other more unorthodox places the two of you have enjoyed the last month together. As you sank into her couch, you didn’t even have the energy to put your laptop on the coffee table before you fell into a state of bliss.
That state of bliss, however, was completely shattered when you woke up to the gentle sounds of sobbing on the couch next to you. Out of all the ways IU has woken you up previously, this was by far the worst.
“IU?” you croaked as your eyes furiously blinked open, trying to find the source of the crying next to you. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m a fucking slut.”
“Hey!” you quickly rushed to her side, pulling her into your embrace. “Why would you say that?”
“It’s true,” she cried, her eyes coating your shoulder. “Everyone knows it, everyone’s thinking it.”
“No they’re not,” you said firmly.
“You probably also think I’m a slut,” she sobbed, her arms falling limply to her sides.
“No I don’t!” you insisted as you pulled back, holding her shoulders, staring into her face. She still had the professional makeup from the photo shoot on, and you just now noticed how beautiful she was at this moment despite the crying. “What did he do?”
She shook her head, her lip quivering, tears building up in her eyes again.
“I’m not mad, I just need to know what happened,” you said, trying your best to control your voice.
“Nothing happened,” she said sniffled. “I didn’t do anything with him.”
You tilted your head in confusion.
“I told you, I’m not mad, just tell me what happened.”
“See, even you assume I’m just a fucking slut!” IU shattered into tears, putting her hands over her face and crying.
“What? No!” you let go of her shoulders, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Please, I believe you, just help me understand.”
She took a minute, one that felt like an hour, before lowering her hands and looking at you.
“He…” she stammered, scrunching her face up in an attempt to hold back her tears.
“Take your time,” you reassured her, reaching forward and grabbing her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, take as long as you need.”
She inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder before speaking again.
“The photoshoot… after we finished, he…” she struggled until you gave her hands an encouraging squeeze. “He came into my dressing room after.”
You held your tongue, letting her say her whole piece before asking questions despite the burning rage that was filling your insides.
“He expected me to just… he walked right up to me and lowered his pants,” IU choked, taking a short moment to recompose herself. “The way he looked at me, he just expected me to…”
“Did he do anything else?” you asked gently but firmly.
“No,” she shook her head, lip trembling again but no tears fell this time. “I told him I don’t do that anymore.”
“And that was the end of it?”
She nodded slowly, looking at you as if she expected something, reassurance, comfort, it wasn’t clear.
“You’re not a slut,” you said directly. “Even if you did what he wanted, it still wouldn’t have made you… can we stop using that word?”
“Do you not believe me?” her eyes began to well up.
Without hesitation, you lunged forward and pulled her into your embrace again.
“Of course I believe you,” you mumbled into her shoulder while rubbing her back. “I trust you completely.”
“Then why does it feel like you still think I did something,” she sniffled against your shoulder.
“I don’t think you did something,” you replied. “I only meant even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.”
“There is no ‘if you did’ about it!” she shouted as the tears streamed down her face. “I told you already, you are the only one I want. I don’t do that stuff anymore.”
“I know,” you whispered into her shoulder.
“Do you still want…” she sniffled before stopping.
“Want what?” you asked, letting go of her.
“This.”
“You mean, us?”
She nodded solemnly.
“Of course I still want this,” you answered firmly. “We agreed to see where things go, is that not what you want anymore?”
“I’m… no,” she responded. “I’m tired of waiting and seeing.”
“You mean…”
“We both want the same thing, why make it harder than it needs to be?” she continued. “I’m ready if you are.”
“IU, are you sure?”
“Exclusive. You. Me.”
It felt like a weight had been launched off your chest, a weight you weren’t even aware of before. You could feel the palpitations in your chest, suddenly your heart wasn’t working properly. IU wanted to make this official?
“I’m ready.”
---
AN:
IT HAS BEEN A VERY LONG TIME. No, this was not initially intended to be a Christmas release, but hey Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! This chapter ended up being a tiny bit shorter than my normal, but that's because I decided I like this story and want to continue it for just a little bit longer (maybe 5 parts total?) and this was a nice ending spot. I sorta have a plan for how I want to end this series, so we'll see if we get there.
Anyway, figured I'd update a bit on what's going on with me. There's a really good chance that this will bite me in the butt, however, I plan to upload somewhere between 2-5 updates in my other stories within the next week or two. THIS IS TENTATIVE, NO PROMISES.
Life is busy, I am borderline retired as a writer now, but like I said previously: I will still try to write when I have time and motivation. Updates, after the optimistic 2-5 I mentioned above, will continue to be extremely sporadic. For those of you who truly enjoy my writing, I'm sorry that there will be long delays. For those of you who don't really care for my writing... why are you still reading this?
Same deal as before, I'd love feedback! I'll admit, I won't be able to put as much time and effort as I used to, but I still want to improve. Let me know what you liked or disliked! I didn't really proofread or reread this chapter nearly as much as I normally do, honestly I just missed the thrill of uploading a piece of writing. Hopefully you guys understand and will forgive any silly mistakes!
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meninraingear · 11 months
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The life as you know has come to an end. From now on you’re a prisoner 0721MS and your past will be completely erased. Your only comfort will be this thick rubber suit which will stay on 24/7.
You’ll be locked in your private cell with this suit on and have plenty of time to contemplate your past deeds. Master will visit you once in a while, but only to make sure that your chains are tight and your position as uncomfortable as possible.
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