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#if there were love letters it's only fair that there were sex letters
maddy-ferguson · 9 hours
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fun fact about me: i'm insecure about so many random things that i've never flipped anyone off in my 22 years of life because i think my middle finger looks awkward and ugly by itself
#and like i say: brf slt#i felt like this especially when i would have been likely to do it semi-regularly like in middle school. but like i was thinking about this#the other day and i did it in front of a mirror just to check and it looked as bad as i remember like it's just not for me#i have a story abour middle fingers though or just about what one would call the finger#when i was in what an american would call the 5th grade (i can never do when i was x years old because it's not an accurate representation#of the class i was in since i skipped a grade and the grade is what matters more to me. when i was 9 and my friends were 10 i was saying)#we would always play this game called girls catch guys or guys catch girls where the girls would run after the guys and like tap them on#the shoulder and then they would go to prison and they would line up and another guy could set them free by like touching one of the#prisoners it was a very fun game except it's way more fun to be like the ones getting caught than to be the ones catching and we would#ALWAYS play girls catching guys and it was very unfair we would be like okay in the morning we do guys catching girls in the afternoon#girls catching guys so it's fair like normal system but the guys NEVER wanted to do it (and we would always give in because like we still#wanted to play ig and idk guys. female socialization) they never wanted to be the ones doing the catching it was so unfair because we also#didn't like it as much and we did it all the time?#and i remember this one morning we were fighting about this we had literally all agreed that it was fair this way but they didn't want to#do it and my second best male friend flipped me and my best (female) friend off and (very#important detail) he did it with both of his hands so like two middle fingers and i don't know why because i'm not even sure that that's a#thing but one middle finger meant fuck you and two middle fingers meant go fuck yourself and to us that was very different? and i remember#my friend and i we like knew what it meant but for some reason we were like. he did do the one finger before doing the two does this mean#he...loves us because it literally means he wants to have sex with us#but what's funny is we never talked to him again after that and i don't even know why that was our last straw because i remember i#genuinely liked him before that like i said he was my second best male friend! so like maybe sixth best friend overall that's not bad#and he's not the only guy friend who flipped us off that year like it was so random to stop talking to him after that😭#like he was an actual enemy we really did not like him we talked about him in letters we'd give each other using a nickname etc#and what's even funnier is in our last year of middle schoold FOUR YEARS AFTER THIS a friend of a friend told him he should become friends#with well my friend and he was like hm i don't think so have you seen who she hangs out with? marianne *last name* like why do YOU hate#me😭 it was so funny like wdym it was mutual this whole time. i had literally moved on by then i didn't even care about hating him#anymore like wow...i think he's the only person i hated who actually hated me back
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gutsby · 1 month
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Abstaining Game
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.
Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.
Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’
Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)
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October 26, 2024
Dear Joel,
Roses are red,
We’re a couple of sluts,
Abstinence camp is awful,
I miss you rearranging my guts.
You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.
“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”
You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.
Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.
It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.
What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.
Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.
He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.
That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.
Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.
Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:
Dear Tommy,
Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Sincerely,
Joel
You grinned again just thinking about it.
If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.
For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?
Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.
The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.
You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.
Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:
“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”
The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.
Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.
Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.
“On your feet, skank.”
You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.
Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.
“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.
“How kind.”
“Yeah? Certain death?”
“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.
Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.
“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.
“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”
“Oh?”
Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.
“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.
Stupidly.
“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”
That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.
“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.
“Not my brother,” you hissed.
“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.
“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”
Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.
“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.
“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.
“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.
Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.
Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.
“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
“I am not.”
“Then explain, Cersei!”
Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.
“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.
“Uh-huh.”
“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”
“Dangerous combo.”
“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”
“Right.”
“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”
Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:
“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”
“Oh shit.”
“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”
“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”
“As you should.”
“—hold that breath in right there—”
“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”
This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.
“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.
“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”
You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.
“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”
Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:
“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”
You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,
“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”
You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,
“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”
You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.
Then you felt hands.
Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.
You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.
“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.
Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?
About damn time.
Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.
“Fucker,” you hissed.
Fucker said nothing.
Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.
“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”
You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.
In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.
“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”
A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.
“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.
Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.
“Pack your shit.”
Dude.
You spun on your heels.
“DUDE!”
Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.
It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.
“Sweetheart—”
He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.
The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?
You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.
His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.
“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”
You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.
“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”
Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.
“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”
He was seriously trying to break you out?
You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.
“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.
Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.
“Joel?” You raised a brow.
“Mm?”
The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.
His gaze was alarmingly sedate.
“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”
“Just a quickie, Miller—”
“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”
The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.
Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.
It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.
“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”
Shit.
Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.
“Joel—”
“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”
Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.
But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.
“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.
“Joel, I just—”
“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”
The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.
“It was a joke.”
No time to mince words now.
“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.
He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.
“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”
“No!”
“No?”
“No.”
For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.
Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.
“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”
When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”
With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.
“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”
You needed time to think.
“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.
But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.
“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”
His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.
Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?
You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.
“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”
You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.
“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.
“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.
You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.
At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.
His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.
Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.
“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.
This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.
Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.
But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.
You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.
You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.
Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.
Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.
Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”
Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.
The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.
Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.
Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.
Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.
“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.
You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.
Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.
“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.
Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.
Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.
“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”
When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.
“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”
Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.
“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.
But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.
You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.
“Another,” you pleaded.
“Nuh-uh.”
“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.
Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.
“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’
Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.
His expression was hard.
“Fuck my hand,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.
Fuck my hand.
Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.
“Like that,” he murmured.
All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.
It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.
“Need more,” you keened.
“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.
“Yeah.”
A beat, then:
“Tough shit.”
But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.
“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.
“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.
Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”
That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.
And pleasure.
The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.
Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.
“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.
Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,
“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”
Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.
Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.
He nodded again.
Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.
After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.
“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.
“Too much?” he returned.
You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.
“Too soon?” he tried again.
“I—”
“Too fast?”
“N—”
“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.
There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.
You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.
“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.
“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”
Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.
“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.
Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.
“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”
Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.
“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.
“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.
When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.
“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.
Joel watched you with careful eyes.
“Yeah? And Tess?”
“Joel—”
“Or Tommy.”
“I don’t—”
“Everyone else?”
Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.
Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.
In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?
You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.
Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.
“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.
“But you did,” you panted.
Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.
Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.
He was a lot like you in that way.
You kept kissing him anyway.
The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.
All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.
“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.
You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.
In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.
“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.
“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”
Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’
You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.
Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.
Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.
“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”
Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’
Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.
He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.
Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.
“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His face softened.
“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”
He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.
“Say that you’re mine.”
No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.
Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?
The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.
The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.
It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.
Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.
His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.
He kissed your hairline and hummed.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”
His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.
“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.
He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,
“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”
“But—”
“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”
His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.
“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.
You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.
“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.
You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.
Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.
Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:
“Joel!”
“That’s right.”
Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.
“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.
You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’
Oh.
Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.
Your legs were wet.
The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.
You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.
You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.
Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?
“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.
You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.
In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.
Where was that wetness coming from?
You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—
“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.
Your first instinct was to make a face.
That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?
“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.
Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.
“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”
Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.
Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.
“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”
You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.
And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.
Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.
“‘M’sorry,” he said.
Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,
“You did great.”
He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“So good.”
When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.
“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”
“What?”
Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.
“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”
At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.
He didn’t.
The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.
“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”
You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.
“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”
Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.
“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”
Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.
Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.
You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.
But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.
“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.
“No!”
“I’m not—”
“He’s from the other camp.”
“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”
You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.
“I’m—we’re—” he started.
“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”
She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.
But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.
Then laugh.
Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.
Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.
“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.
Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.
“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:
“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”
Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.
And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.
“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”
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yearning-for-autumn · 2 months
Text
Would That I -- Part 11
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A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.
Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex
Word count: 5k
Part 1 Part 3
Were you jealous?
You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.
You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.
How dare he.
It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.
You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.
Cauldron damn and burn him.
The next week you received another letter.
Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.
You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.
You found him in the living room, reading.
“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.
“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”
“Eris.”
“Ah.”
You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.
“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.
“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.
“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.
“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”
“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.
“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.
“You are not helping.”
“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”
He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.
Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.
It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.
Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.
Why in all the realms would I dine with you?
You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.
You have no one to be faithful to.
You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.
There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.
---
Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.
On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.
“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.
He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.
Lucien has agreed to see you.
Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.
Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.
Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.
Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.
Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred. 
Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.
“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,
“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”
Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.
Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. 
The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.
---
You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.
“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”
“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.
“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.
“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.
“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.
“Lucien.” He said.
“Eris.”
“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.
Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”
Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.
“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.
“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.
“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.
“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”
“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.
“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”
As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.
---
In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.
“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”
Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.
Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.
“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.
“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.
“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.
“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.
“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.
“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”
“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.
“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.
He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.
---
You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta. 
He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.
Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.
Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.
He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.
Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.
“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”
Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.
Let you go.
Forever.
Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.
He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.
Fine. Where should I meet you?
He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.
On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.
I will be there.
It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.
---
You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.
It was safer for Eris on your own.
You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.
“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.
“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.
“Did you receive my gifts?”
“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.
“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.
You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.
“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.
“I had to.”
“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.
“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.
“Try me.” You pressed.
“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.
You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.
“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”
He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.
“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.
“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.
“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.
Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.
“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”
You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.
“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”
Hurt. Pain. Despair.
“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”
There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.
Hope.
Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.
“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.
“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”
There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.
“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”
He panted, nodding frantically.
“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”
You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.
“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.
He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.
“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.
“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.
“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.
He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.
This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.
“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.
“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.
You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.
“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.
“I can explain.”
Taglist:
@anotherbook-obsessedhoe @glitterypirateduck @homeslices @leeknows-wife @cat-or-kitten @macimads @esposadomd @forever-paramore28 @going-through-shit @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @astarlitsoul @crazylokonugget @imagine-that-100 @sorry--for-the-mess @glittervame @the-sweet-psycho @yamburger @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @acourtofbatboydreams @starrystarkey93 @holb32 @iimichie @goldenmagnolias @theravenphoenix26 @63angel @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @walkerchick007
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motherofdogs1010 · 4 months
Text
Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)
Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling
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Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence
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😊 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😊 Banner by @vase-of-lilies
Part II
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A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.
The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?
"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"
"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."
It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.
He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.
"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"
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Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.
"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"
Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.
Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"
"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.
She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."
Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.
"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.
"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."
Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.
Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.
"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."
"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.
"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."
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Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.
"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.
Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.
He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.
"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."
His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.
Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.
She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.
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Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.
"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."
Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.
Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.
"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.
"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.
"Quite the performance you put on."
She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.
"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."
She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.
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kwanisms · 6 months
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Rough Waters — h.jisung
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» stray kids masterlist «
➮ samebito!Jisung × f!Reader wc: 10k summary: Y/N is a marine biologist who is obsessed with finding new sea life. During a night dive, she stumbles across a very well hidden underwater cave entrance and finds herself meeting something that defies all logic and evolution. She forms a bond with the creature and comes back almost every night to visit him. genres/themes/au: fluff (if u squint), smut; supernatural and japanese folklore themes, s2l, slight predator/prey themes; non idol au, merman au, samebito au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, a little bit of arguing between Y/N and some of the townsfolk about the existence of mermaids, some slightly sad conversation about Jisung being alone, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 , @cutiespaghetti Join the taglist! »» Closed ! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.
a/n: this is super self-indulgent and I will not apologize for shark merman cnc Jisung. I wanted this Jisung so I made him. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. If you enjoyed this, reblog or leave a comment. I love feedback. The next part, Changbin's part, is the last one of this series! That being said, next up is the Holiday Special of Tales from Camp. You can sign up for that taglist here and read the first two installments here. If you've yet to read the OG Tales from Camp, that masterlist is here. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a freakin shark merman. You think he cares about avoiding pregnancy? He can’t even get her pregnant lol but you need to use protection!), oral (f receiving), con noncon, pool/water sex (kinda lol), dirty talk, use of pet names (little fish, cutie, baby, pet, etc), rough sex, dom!Jisung, sub!Reader, even though it’s cnc Y/N is very receptive towards his advances and in the end, she does give him consent. But if CNC or dubcon makes you uncomfy, don’t read it. This is my fantasy. I wrote this for me lol if I missed anything let me know
dialogue prompt: ❛ I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜
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The warning sign at the beach that read ‘beware of sharks’ in all capital letters should have served as warning for what you were about to get yourself into.
Living in a seaside town has always had its perks. Sandy beaches to visit in the summers, the smell of salt that you’d come to love, boating, all the seafood you could want among them. It was almost like your own personal paradise.
The one drawback was the shark population that increased at the end of summer which drove away the rest of the tourism for the season. You weren’t mad about it. After all, the ocean was home to all marine animals, sharks included. As a biologist, you knew each animal had its own purpose and was beneficial to the ecosystem, especially sharks.
So despite the danger, you never missed an opportunity to dive when the weather allowed. Of course, you chose night time for your dives.
Night was perfect as the animals weren’t as active without the sunlight.
Your dive for the night had taken you to a rocky part of the shore where you knew caves would be. The caves along the shore were always hard to reach and most of them only had underwater entrances.
You’d explored a fair share of them since moving to this town but there were many more you wanted to explore and see what kind of life you could find.
This excursion was like any other, you’d made a plan with the local coast guard as well as letting your contact in town know when, where, and how long you’d be. It was a standard procedure which had become routine for you.
You had taken out your boat and anchored it just off shore and near what you assumed was the opening to another cave before suiting up and jumping into the water. The water was cool enough in the summer months but in the fall it was almost freezing, making you grateful for the wetsuit you wore no matter the temperature. Making sure your mask was secure you slowly sank into the water, turning on and shining your light towards the bottom of the rocks.
An opening was visible at the base and you carefully made your way down, inspecting the opening before starting inside. You’d explored many of these caves before, you knew the procedure and the caves never scared you. To some, caving was one thing but to do so underwater was an entirely different beast. To you, it was almost second nature.
As you continued forward, you scanned the walls of the cave, taking note of the coral, algae, and other life that had taken root on the walls. It wasn’t uncommon to find life in places like this. Sea caves were often the home to unique and enclosed ecosystems.
As you gently propelled yourself forward, you noticed how the cave seemed to open up. As you reached the end you looked up and saw that the cave did indeed open up into a large cavern. Sand lined the bottom of the cavern, many coral reefs and other life taking up residence. You started to swim up, noticing the surface approaching rapidly.
You broke through the surface of the water and found that the cavern was much larger than you initially thought. Swimming over to the edge of the pool, you pulled yourself up and started to look around as you started to remove your mask.
It was a rounded cavern. The pool was about twenty feet in diameter but there was a rocky ledge where you were currently perched on and then the rocky floor continued for another twenty feet making the whole diameter of the cavern about forty feet. You pulled your mask off and set it down as you undid and shrugged off your oxygen tank.
“This is incredible,” you whispered to yourself as you removed your flippers and got up, starting to walk around the cavern and inspect the walls. There was a slight glitter to them as you shined your light. Not like they were wet but like some kind of diamond dust was embedded in the rock.
You looked straight above your head and noticed there was an almost perfect circular cut out in the cavern ceiling and moonlight was filtering through the hole. The moonlight hit the surface of the water and danced around the cavern.
As you were inspecting, you noticed something else.
The cave seemed inhabited. You noticed bones collected in a pile and an old fire pit. You wondered who might seek shelter in this cave when it was so close to the boardwalk but didn’t have time to dwell on it as you heard a large splash coming from the pool.
You made your way back over and cursed as you saw your mask and oxygen tank sinking to the bottom of the pool. “Shit,” you said softly and looked around. You hoped there might be a break in the rocks that would allow you to exit the cave instead of having to go back into the pool but you saw nothing.
You turned around on the spot, trying to figure out a way out of this but you saw nothing that could help. There was nothing you could use to reach the tank and mask which were now nestled at the bottom of the pool in the sand. “Fuck!” you cursed, your voice echoing off the wall.
You looked away from the pool when you heard a shift against the rock behind you.
Shining your light back, you saw nothing and chalked it up to nerves.
You turned back, eyes catching something dark in the pool below you before you felt something grab you and pull you into the pool.
You kicked and fought against whatever it was until it seemed to let go of you and you quickly swam to the surface, coughing once you broke through the surface. You tried to pull yourself up onto the rocky ledge but something grabbed your leg and tugged, pulling you off the wall and back into the water.
Just as quickly as it grabbed you, it let go.
You tried to shine your flashlight around but whatever it was moved too fast for you to get a good glimpse of it. In a desperate attempt to throw the animal off, you threw your flashlight away, turning back for the ledge at the light splashed a considerable distance away.
You hoped the splash would distract the animal enough for you to get away and it seemed to work as you scrambled up onto the rocky ledge before you pulled away and peered back at the still water’s surface. Your eyes scanned the area, looking for any kind of predator that could have been responsible.
Upon not seeing one, you looked down to inspect your arm and your ankle. Your skin was unbroken and mostly unscathed. There were slight imprints, almost like teeth or maybe even claws but no blood had been drawn.
A small splash caught your attention and you snapped your head up in time to see a ripple cross the surface of the water. Something had disturbed the water. You saw a dark shadow move near the bottom of the pool, only noticing it as it crossed in front of the beam of your flashlight.
You were being watched. Whatever had dragged you into the water knew you were there and it was circling the pool. Waiting. Hunting. Whatever it was was sentient enough to know it had you trapped. It knew the only way out of the cave was through the water and it would wait.
You should have been terrified. After all, it was hunting you but your curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied until you caught a glimpse of it. You had to know what it was.
Carefully, you approached the edge of the pool, eyes scanning the dark and catching a large shadow as it swam in circles. Not in an erratic or frenzied pattern but calmly. Almost… leisurely.
As you peered over the edge of the rocks, the shadow stopped circling and started to swim to the surface. You watched in awe as a dark smooth body broke through the surface before you saw the fin. A shark fin. ‘Of course it was a shark,’ you told yourself watching as the creature moved towards you.
You pulled back slightly as it drew closer and closer. You were well aware that some sharks were known for their breaching behavior, namely great whites. This was definitely not a great white shark. It was much darker. It could have been a tiger shark but tigers weren’t known for their aggressive behavior.
Bull sharks on the other hand were and though bull sharks hadn’t been spotted in the area in over 20 years, it wasn’t completely impossible.You drew back entirely, hoping the animal wouldn’t try to jump out of the water to reach you.
As it drew closer, you watched as it dove down with just precision that you were starting to wonder if it was a shark after all. Sharks weren’t known for diving so steeply. They were gradual divers. You leaned over the edge and lost sight of the shadow. Your eyes caught the flickering of your flashlight and you cursed as it went dark, the illumination you had now gone and only the light of the moon allowing you to see.
The water seemed to still as you looked around. Had it left? Was the animal gone? Your instincts told you it was still there, waiting for you to slip up before it took you at its latest meal.
Even though sharks didn’t go out of their way to eat humans, if one was hungry enough, it would stalk one and wait. Just like any other starving predator.
As you looked around, you saw bubbles just under where you were leaning over the water.
You glanced down and let out an ear piercing scream as the creature surfaced quickly, forcing you back as it breached and landed on top of you. You struggled to push it away, taking care to avoid the head and any potential bites.
As you struggled under the weight of the animal, you could have sworn you heard… laughter?
Your eyes popped open and you looked up, fear and shock mixing as you stared at the creature above you.
You were looking into the face of a man. Your shock and fear turned briefly into anger as you tried to make sense of the situation. Had it been a man this whole time? Some weird cave hermit that had been tormenting you and pretending to be a shark to scare you into leaving his home?
“You should see your face!” he said as his laughter grew. You narrowed your eyes and tried to sit up but it was then you noticed the lower half of his body and gasped.
From the waist up, he was human. Golden tan skin that blended into the dark blackish-blue of his shark-like tail. A… merman? Your eyes traveled back up to his face, taking in each and every detail bathed in moonlight. He wore around his neck a black cord necklace with shells and in the middle, a pendant made from a shark tooth.
You watched as he continued to laugh, sharp pointed teeth peeking out from his plush peachy lips.
“You humans are so much fun,” he said as his laughter subsided. His hands rested on the rock under you as he leaned over you, his slim waist positioned between your thighs as he smirked at you. Leaning slightly to the left, you looked over his body again. The dark blackish-blue faded into a pale grayish-blue on the ventricle side and the same grayish-blue stripes covered his back. The fin on his back was just past his waist and was a very typical shark-like fin.
His tail was also the trademark shark fin but it was more like a thresher tail with the top part of the fin longer. Your eyes traveled back up to his face, inspecting the ocean blue irises that stared back at you. “What the--” you trailed off, pushing yourself up, forcing the creature to back up.
“What are you?” you asked, voice full of caution and curiosity. You watched as the creature fell back into the water, disappearing below the surface before popping back up, fixing you with a playful stare. “You’re the scientist,” he noted. “You tell me.”
You stared at him blankly. How could you even expect to explain this? Explain him? His very existence had been disputed and debated for hundreds of years. Mermaids were the stuff of legend and folklore. They weren’t supposed to exist.
If that were the case however, how did you explain this? How did you explain the creature treading water before you? “It has to be some sort of suit,” you mumbled, looking at the shark-like body under the water. The creature scoffed. “It’s always ‘seeing is believing’ with you humans until something shows up and then it’s all ‘has to be fake.’ Do you ever believe anything?” he asked.
You looked up, examining his face. His soft features. Round cheeks, plush pouty lips that started to lift into a crooked smile, showing off his pointed teeth. “I believe in science,” you explained and he rolled his eyes. “But I also believe there are things science can’t explain,” you continued.
You started to lower yourself into the water and he immediately shied away. You held up your hand. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you said softly. You saw his eyes flit to the knife strapped to your thigh. You followed his gaze and quickly removed the weapon.
“For protection,” you replied, setting it on the rocks behind you and facing him. “In case something tries to take a bite out of me,” you added. His brow furrowed. “If you get bit, maybe you shouldn’t get in the water,” he replied and you nodded. “I’ve never been bit,” you answered. “I’ve gotten close, but the knife is a last resort,” you continued.
“You have your teeth and your claws,” you reminded him. “My teeth and nails are no match for shark skin,” you added. “If you aren’t a match, why do you enter the ring?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. A smile spread across your face. “Because I study marine life,” you replied.
“I’m a marine biologist.”
The creature tilted his head the opposite direction. “Are you here to study me?” he asked. You shrugged before answering. “Up until a few minutes ago, I didn’t even know you existed,” you answered, swimming a little closer. He watched you cautiously. “So you didn’t know this cave is my home?” he asked and you shook your head. “No, I had no idea.”
He studied you carefully.
“Are you… a merman?” you asked suddenly. His expression changed, amusement crossing his features as he laughed. “A merman?” he asked incredulously. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Those pretty boys live safe and sound in their lairs, never venturing far from home,” he added.
You cocked your head to the side. “Pretty boys?” you asked. “Do you not think you’re pretty?”
Your question must have caught him off guard because he stopped smiling and stared at you, a slight pink hue reaching his cheeks. “N-no,” he answered finally. “I’m not.” You frowned at him. How could he not think he was? You found all sea life incredible beautiful but nothing you’d encountered before had made you think it was attractive and yet here he was before you.
“I think you’re pretty,” you replied. He stared at you, eyes widening. “Y-you do?” he asked softly, to which you nodded. “I think you’re very pretty,” you replied. He swam a little closer, inspecting your face. “So,” you said, breaking the silence. “If you aren’t a merman, what are you?”
He raised his gaze to meet yours, drawing it from your body under the water. “What do you think I am? Hmm, marine biologist?” he asked and you sighed, backing away from him and pulling yourself up onto the rock. “Sorry,” you said as you situated yourself. “My legs were getting tired.”
He watched as you massaged your calves. “I can only tread water for so long.”
“In my experience,” you started. “I’ve never seen anything like you,” you continued. “The shark part is unlike any species I’ve ever seen. It’s like an amalgamation of tiger and thresher sharks,” you noted. He smiled, showing off his pointy teeth as he swam closer. “So you’re saying I’m unique?” he asked.
You nodded as he drew closer. “Unique and otherworldly,” you added. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He pulled himself back up, leaning over your frame. “You’ve never seen anything like me?” You shook your head again. “Never,” you replied.
Silence fell over the two of you as you stared at one another. His dark hair had started to dry a bit, the ends of his bangs falling into his eyes. “What do you call yourself?” you asked, tilting your head to the right. He smiled, mimicking your movement. “Jisung,” he replied. “My name is Jisung.”
“Jisung,” you repeated. He leaned in, eyes watching your lips as you spoke. “I like the way you say my name,” he whispered. You could feel your heart rate kicking up as he leaned closer. ‘What is he doing?’ You stared back as his eyes moved up to meet your gaze. “What is your name?” he asked just as softly as before.
You froze. He was asking your name? Should you tell him? It’s not like he was going to look you up or something. You then wondered if you should tell any kind of sentient creature your name. Didn’t that give them power over you or something? You must have taken longer than he expected because he smirked at you.
“What’s the matter? Shark got your tongue?” he asked, amused by his own joke.
Your facade broke and you smiled. “Y/N,” you finally answered. “I’m Y/N.” Jisung smiled back, a genuine smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he replied, lowering back into the water and staring up at you.
“Likewise,” you replied.
After meeting Jisung that night, you promised to come back. And came back you did.
You managed to gain his trust enough to draw a small vial of blood, and take a couple pictures mainly of his tail and markings. You promised to keep his existence a secret, making sure all your research on him was done at home and that you kept everything under wraps.
A few days turned into a week and you came back almost every night, getting to know Jisung and more about his existence. You learned that he wasn’t a merman, like he had said. He was a samebito. He had explained that it was similar to a merman but different folklore and legends.
A week and a half had passed since you first met Jisung and you were currently sitting on the edge of the boat, writing in your notebook, going over your notes before suiting up and jumping in the water. 
A splash caught your attention and you glanced up. You weren’t sure why you even looked, it was night time and you couldn’t even see the water except near your boat. You grabbed the spotlight, flipping it on and turning it slowly until something came into view and you sighed.
“Someone’s impatient,” you chuckled, letting go of the light and returning to your notes as Jisung swam over to your boat. “I got lonely,” he said softly as he reached the end of your boat. He quickly pulled himself up to sit on the side of the boat near you.
“What’re you writing?” he asked, leaning over to see your notebook. “Just some notes,” you mumbled, finishing up your notes and closing the notebook quickly, and setting it aside. You turned to look at him and your smile fell upon seeing the fresh scar on his shoulder.
“What happened here?” you asked, voice laced with concern as you scooted closer.
He glanced down and let out a chuckle. “Oh,” he said softly. “I got a little too close to a shark feed ground,” he continued. “I’ll heal pretty quickly,” he added as you inspected the wound. “I was hunting and got in the way,” he admitted with a sheepish smile.
“Have you eaten?” you asked, looking up at him. He met your gaze and hesitated. “What?” he asked and watched as you got up and walked over to the opposite side of the boat, lifting one of the seats and reached in to pull out one of the fish you’d caught earlier.
“Here,” you said, holding it up. “I mean,” you added, turning your head to look at the fish. “I could cook it,” you said softly. Jisung smiled and chuckled. “Did you catch that for me?” he asked as you walked over, holding the fish up. You nodded. “There’s more in the cooler,” you added.
Jisung chuckled and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said with a smile. “I’ve eaten,” he explained, taking the fish from you. “I don’t want to gross you out,” he added as he inspected it. “Oh,” you said dejectedly. Jisung looked up and handed the fish back. “Just keep it on ice for a little while longer and sell it if you don’t eat fish,” he said softly.
You took the fish and took it back to the cooler, closing it and placing the seat down before heading back and sitting back down. “So when did this happen?” you asked, nodding at his shoulder. He glanced down again as he thought.
“Oh, maybe like a couple hours ago,” he replied and your eyes widened in shock. “Wait, really?” you asked and he nodded, looking confused at your shock. “Yeah, I heal pretty quickly,” he added with a laugh. You leaned forward, reaching up to brush your fingers against his skin.
“Weird,” you murmured, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly. Jisung shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “Like you said, you’ve never met anyone like me.” You chuckled, nodding. “That’s true,” you added.
Silence fell over the two of you as you looked up at the sky, the waves lapping at the sides of the boat and a gentle breeze blowing through the air. You looked over at Jisung to find him already looking at you, a calm expression on his face.
“What?” you asked softly and he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “Nothing,” he answered. “Oh!” he said quickly sitting up. “I found something really cool while out the other night!” he said and turned towards you.
“Wanna see it?” he asked. You nodded, feeling excited. “Where are we going?” you asked, getting up and starting to strip to your bikini, not noticing the way Jisung’s eyes followed your movement and body. You moved to grab your wetsuit.
Jisung waited patiently for you to pull it on. “Jump in,” Jisung said, looking at the water and you looked at the water. “We’re swimming there?” you asked, making him chuckle. “It’s not far,” he answered. “It’s worth it, I promise.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Come on, Y/N,” he groaned. “Live a little,” he added with a wink before rolling towards the edge of the boat and diving into the water. You sighed and grabbed your boat keys, pulling the elastic over your wrist and walking over to the light, shutting it off the light and heading to the bow of the boat, grabbing your flashlight and snorkel mask. 
As you reached the back, you turned the light on to see Jisung was floating, waiting for you. “Where are we going?” you asked as you held the flashlight between your knees as you pulled the mask on. “Not far,” Jisung said as you grabbed the flashlight and climbed down the ladder, joining him in the water.
Jisung took your hand and gently pulled you along. “Come here,” he said softly. “Hold on,” he added, guiding your arms around his neck. “Are you sure?” you asked, softly, cheeks burning as you looked at him so closely. He turned his head to look at you, his own cheeks turning soft pink.
“Uh,” yeah,” he said softly. “Just try not to get under me,” he added. 
It felt weird, hanging off him from behind as he started swimming. It almost felt like you were riding a shark, the trashing as he started off but soon turned into a smooth motion as he zipped through the water, propelled only by the powerful tail.
Jisung was careful to stay near the surface so you didn’t have to hold your breath with the mask. You could tell he was holding back, not swimming as fast as you knew he could go. You’d seen him zipping through the water before, breaching the surface at speeds you suspected most sharks could reach.
This was much slower than you’d witnessed.
Jisung started to slow, lifting his head out of the water. As he came to a stop, you slid from his back, reaching up to remove your snorkel mask. “We’re almost there,” he said, looking up at the stars overhead. You glanced skyward, letting out a soft gasp.
“Wow,” you whispered. Jisung chuckled, grabbing your hand gently. “Come on,” he said quietly, tugging you through the water towards the rocky beach. “I’ve seen these rocks when visiting you,” you commented as he led you towards them. “You’ll need your goggles for this,” he said, turning to look back at you. As soon as the words left his lips, you pulled them back on, dumping any water out of them.
“Now what?” you asked as he took your hand again. “Hold your breath,” he instructed. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you under the water, leading you down towards a cave opening. It wasn’t unlike the entrance to his cave; only this one was much narrower.
The cave opening seemed to go on forever, winding around as you let Jisung pull you. Your lungs were starting to burn and you knew if you didn’t hurry, you’d start to suffocate. Finally, Jisung pulled you free from the narrow cave into a much larger one and pushed you towards the surface.
You kicked towards the surface of the pool, breaching at the same time he did. Jisung floated near as you coughed, allowing air to fill your lungs again, the taste of salt on your tongue. “I had no idea there were so many of these,” you gasped. “How many are there?”
Jisung chuckled, taking your hand. “Come,” he said simply, pulling you through the water. The inside of this cave was much different than his. Instead of a single round chamber, there were multiple round chambers, connected together. 
Jisung pulled you along into the next chamber until you reached the last one. “Through there,” he nodded towards a window in the rock wall. “This is so cool,” you commented as you swam over, pulling yourself up to peer out.
It was then that you saw it.
Jisung pulled himself up next to you, a wide grin on his face. “Wow,” you whispered. “Cool, huh?” he asked, resting his chin on his forearm.
Outside the cave was more stretch of ocean, waves rolling up onto a sandy beach. There was only about twenty feet between the beach and the treeline behind it and the beach stretched for about fifty feet between two rocky bluffs.
All along the beach, rolling in the waves were glowing blue lights. “Bioluminescent plankton,” you whispered. “They come here every night to feed,” he whispered. “It’s pretty cool, with the stars and the lights,” he continued.
You turned to look at him.
“This little alcove is remote,” he explained. “Human’s haven’t started colonizing it,” he added. “I think it might be privately owned,” he continued. You glanced at him before looking back at the beach. “I hope it stays like this,” you whispered, also resting your chin on your forearm.
You sat in silence, watching the lights dance in the waves. You could feel Jisung’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him, your cheeks burning. You watched his eyes flit between your eyes and your lips before he slowly moved. He lifted his hand, moving it to cup your face, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek.
Your heart started to hammer in your chest as he leaned closer. At that moment, a shrill laugh rang out from the direction of the trees. Jisung pulled back abruptly and you turned away from his gaze to look at the beach as a beam of light bounced along the sand.
“Teenagers,” you whispered as a group of teens came out of the woods, giggling as they descended on the shore. Jisung scoffed as he watched them. “Ungrateful little shits.” You snorted into a laugh. “Come on,” you said softly. “Before they decide to come into the water and find this cave with us inside.”
Jisung allowed you to lead him away, back through the cave. You pulled your mask back on, taking another deep breath and letting Jisung pull you through the narrow opening and back into the open ocean. You took your time swimming back, only hitching a ride when your legs gave out.
Back at the boat, Jisung watched you climb up the ladder and pulled himself up on the side again, watching as you disappeared into the cabin. In the privacy of your boat, you stripped and dried off, pulling on dry clothes and running a towel haphazardly over your hair before returning to Jisung.
His hair had started to dry as he lounged on the side of the boat, his tail hanging down the side of the vessel. You chuckled, turning on the lights of the boat and Jisung opened one eye to look at you. “Are you gonna sleep there?” you asked as you walked over, taking a seat on the cushion below where he was lounging.
He propped himself up, looking down at you. “What happened back there,” he started, his voice taking on a more serious tone. You looked away, feeling a sour taste bubbling up from your stomach. ‘He wants to forget it,’ you told yourself.
“It’s fine,” you interrupted. “It can’t happen, I know,” you added. You refused to look up at him so you missed the way his brows knitted together as he stared at you, a slight pout on his lips. “That’s what you’re going to say, right?” you asked when he didn’t answer.
“I’m a human and you’re not. So we can’t.”
You felt his fingers move under your chin, turning and tilting your head to face him. “Stop jumping to conclusions,” he said sternly before leaning in and closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours. For a split second, you panicked before accepting the gesture and melting into the kiss.
You whined as he started to pull back. You pulled him back in by the back of his neck, kissing him more fiercely. Jisung accepted your advances, lips parting as he took back control, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You pulled him closer, leaning back onto the cushions and forcing him to follow your movements.
Jisung groaned into the kiss and pulled back quickly. “Wait,” he gasped. “Sorry,” you whispered as he pushed himself up. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Just give me a second.” You sat up as he pulled back, taking a few deep breaths. “Things were getting a little intense,” he admitted.
You smiled shyly. “Sorry,” you replied. “I got a little excited I guess,” you added, shrugging. Jisung chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “That’s okay,” he answered. “I did, too,” he admitted with a grin. “It happened really fast. I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” he continued.
You shook your head, pulling your knees up and resting your head against the backrest of the seat. “It’s okay,” you said softly, looking up at him in the lights of the boat. “I wanted it.” Jisung nibbled on his bottom lip nervously. “You did?” he asked, his voice sounding optimistic.
You nodded. “I did,” you reassured him. “You didn’t cross a line.”
“That’s a relief.”
Silence fell over you as you watched him and he watched you for a while. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you spoke. “Do you ever get scared?” you asked him. He tilted his head curiously. “Scare?” he asked. “Of what?”
“The town? Fishermen? Being discovered?”
Jisung hesitated, no doubt pondering his answer. “Sometimes,” he answered finally. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it but I like being left alone,” he said, smiling before speaking. “Well, mostly alone,” he added. “I just want to live my life like most creatures.”
“Have you ever been spotted before?” you asked and he smiled wider. “You tell me? Heard any stories?” you snorted as you realized what he was hinting at. “No, thankfully,” you replied. Jisung chuckled at your response. “There you have it. Safe and undiscovered except by you.”
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Your cheeks heated up again. You could feel the heat spread all the way down to your core and you tried not to focus on the feeling lingering in your stomach. Jisung noticed a shift in your demeanor and tilted his head.
“You okay?” he asked softly, moving his hand to caress your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded wordlessly. “Yeah,” you answered. “I’m great,” you lied. “But it’s getting late,” you commented. “I should probably head out.”
You got up, Jisung sitting up and watching as you did. “Hey,” he called softly, reaching out for your hand. You allowed him to take hold of it and pull you closer. “I have to go hunting tomorrow but I’ll see you after, yeah?” he asked. You nodded, leaning in to press your forehead against his.
“Goodnight,” you said softly. Jisung pulled you in, placing a tender kiss against your lips. 
“Goodnight,” he whispered. You watched as he dove off the side of the boat and into the water with a splash, only surfacing to look up at you. You waved at him as he stared up at you. 
“See you tomorrow!” he called before disappearing below the surface, no doubt heading into his cave.
“See you tomorrow,” you whispered.
Only you didn’t see him the next day. Or the day after that. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him.
The night after Jisung took you to see the bioluminescent plankton and kissed you, your dreams were plagued with him. They started innocently, spending time exploring the caves but they soon took a turn and you were starting to have inappropriate thoughts and dreams about him.
Things you should definitely not be thinking about.
The dreams only escalated after that and soon you were dreaming about him showing up in your home, shark tail gone and replaced with human legs.
It was starting to get out of hand.
You hadn’t been back to see Jisung in almost a week and you were feeling guilty not only for disappearing but also for having continuous wet dreams about him. How were you supposed to look him in the eye when all you could think about was him pinning you down and having his way with you?
You knew sooner or later, you’d have to go back out there. You couldn’t just not ever come back. You at least needed to explain to him why you’d been avoiding him and avoiding coming back.
The final push came when you were at the market, looking at some cuts of steak for dinner when you overheard a conversation at the next stall over.
“You’re so full of shit, Paul,” a woman said, shaking her head as she continued crocheting. “No I’m not!” the man you presumed was Paul replied. “I saw it! Looked like a great big tiger shark but it had the upper body of a man!”
You froze, eyes widening as you inspected a particular cut of steak. ‘Jisung?’
“And where did you see this mermaid?” another man asked, laughing. “Near the pier! I was doing some fishing off the end when I spotted it! Was huge! Like ten feet long!” You felt your heart start to pound as you forced a smile and pointed out two steaks.
The stall owner packaged them up for you. “Thanks,” you murmured, handing over a few notes to pay for the meat as the conversation beside you carried on.
“I swear, I saw it!”
You walked away as the others around the man laughed and waved their hands, dismissing his claims. Upon returning home, your mind was made up for you as you entered your kitchen, making one of the steaks for yourself and saving the other. You wonder if Jisung had ever had steak before.
After dinner, you packed your stuff, grabbing your bikini and house keys. You stopped and grabbed the steak from the fridge and headed out of the house, locking up and walking towards the marina, bag slung over your shoulder.
You ignored the night beach goers enjoying bonfires as you headed for the docks. Once on your boat, you casted off, backing your boat out and driving out towards the caves where you knew Jisung had taken up residence.
You reached the rocks in record time, casting your anchor and moving to lower the microphone in the water. You normally didn’t have to use it but you figured after a week, you might need to use it to draw Jisung out.
You turned the dial, starting the dolphin call and sat on one of the seats.
You waited patiently, arms crossed over your chest before you got up and headed into the cabin, changing out of your clothes and into your bikini and then pulling on the wetsuit. As you exited the cabin you heard a splash and looked up to see Jisung perched on the side of your boat staring at you.
There was no smile nor greeting. He merely stared at you blankly.
Neither of you said anything as you stared at one another. Finally Jisung spoke.
“What?” he asked shortly. You crossed to the cooler, lifting the seat and opening the cooler lid. You pulled out the steak and held it up to show him. “Ever had beef?” you asked. Jisung narrowed his eyes. “That’s all you have to say?” he asked. You tore open the brown paper and removed the plastic, holding up the steak.
“Have you ever had steak?”
He glared at you. “Is this some kind of test?” he asked. You shook your head, walking over to where he was and climbed up to sit next to him. “No,” you replied. “I was at the market earlier and got steak,” you explained. He stared at you, glancing down at the meat and back up.
“And this is relevant, how?” he asked. He was clearly upset at you and you couldn’t fault him. You disappeared after he’d kissed you. You presented the steak. “How about you eat and I’ll talk, hmm?” you asked. He looked up at you hesitantly before he nodded.
You handed him the steak to inspect. “You said it’s beef?” he asked. You nodded as he raised it to sniff. “Cow,” you added. “It’s actually a really tender cut,” you continued. “I cooked the other one earlier and ate it for dinner.”
You turned away as he nibbled at the end of the steak. “I also heard an interesting story at the market when I was buying this steak,” you explained. “One of the guys there, a local fisherman. name’s Paul,” you said, glancing at him.
“Well, Paul told everyone in his vicinity that he’d seen something out on the pier while fishing this morning,” you continued, noticing how Jisung’ gaze flickered to you. “Said he’d seen something… strange.” Jisung lowered the partially eaten steak.
“Said it was huge. Looked like a massive tiger shark,” you continued as Jisung stared unblinkingly at you. “Said it had the torso of a man.” Realization dawned on his face as you spoke. “I was spotted?” he asked and you sighed. “What were you doing at the pier in broad daylight?” you asked.
Jisung looked away from you and down at the meat. “I went looking for you,” he admitted. Your heart skipped a beat. “Why?” you asked softly. “Because you vanished,” he replied, looking up at you. “I haven’t seen you for a week!”
Your stomach sank. It was as you feared. “I’m sorry,” you said softly as he ripped the steak apart with his hands. “I was dealing with some things,” you added as he tore into one of the pieces. You watched as he chewed the raw meat and swallowed. “Are you okay now?” he asked.
You nodded. “For the most part,” you added. “I’m still… dealing,” you admitted. Jisung devoured the last of the steak and looked at you. “Do you have any more of that?” he asked, sniffing the air. You chuckled and shook your head. “No,” you replied. “Just the one.”
He pouted. “That was really good,” he murmured, looking disappointed. He perked up quickly. “You’re here though,” he added and you nodded. “I know,” you replied. “And I’m sorry I was gone.” He shook his head and nodded towards the water. “I have something to show you, come on!” he said and before you could answer, he rolled off the boat with a splash into the water below.
Sighing you grabbed your snorkel mask and turned off the boat lights, making sure to grab your keys and the ankle flashlight. Once you were equipped, you climbed down the ladder and into the water with a splash. Making sure the mask was secure, you ducked your head.
You could see Jisung swimming near the opening to his cave. Once he was certain you spotted him, he slipped into the narrow opening and you took a deep breath before following, removing the mouth piece of your snorkel.
You pulled yourself into the opening and followed the path to the interior chamber, kicking toward the surface. Jisung was sitting on the ledge of the pool and you moved over to join him, pulling the mask off and setting it aside.
“What did you wanna show me?” you asked as you pulled yourself up. Jisung held up his hand, showing you a collection of shells. “Scallops,” you muttered, picking up one of the shells. “And this,” he added, showing you an intact clam.
“It already died,” he explained as he carefully pried it open with his nails. “But this is what I really wanted to show you,” he explained as he picked up something small and round and handed it over, placing it in your palm. It was a pearl.
“It’s so pretty,” you breathed, holding the pearl closer. Jisung smiled before he slipped into the water. “I have one more thing to show you,” he added and disappeared under the water, diving down to the bottom of the pool.
He resurfaced moments later and swam closer, holding up something small, smooth, and purple. “Sea glass,” he said as you took the smooth stone-like material. “I see this stuff all the time,” he explained as he rested his chin on your knee. You smiled at him. “You’re giving gifts now?” you asked and he nodded.
He took a deep breath, the smile on his face dropping. “Is something different about you?” he asked suddenly. You glanced down at him and shook your head. “No,” you replied. He lifted his head, sniffing the air. “Something smells different…”
Your cheeks burned as he leaned closer, inhaling your scent.
“Oh,” he said softly, glancing up at you.
“Are you-”
“These are really pretty gifts,” you interrupted, looking down at the pearl and sea glass. Jisung’s brow furrowed as you avoided his gaze. “Y/N,” he started and when you still didn’t look at him, he pulled himself up, caging you in with his arms as his body slotted between your thighs.
You let out a surprised squeak, the pearl and sea glass falling from your hands and into the water with a plop. Jisung was inspecting your face, leaning closer. “Jisung,” you warned as he leaned even closer, forcing you to lean back, holding yourself up with one hand.
One of his hands moved to your lower back and pulled your hips flush against him, forcing another squeak from your lips. Heat spread into your cheeks and pooled in the pit of your stomach and Jisung’s eyes widened as the realization hit him.
“So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” he whispered. You shook your head. “I haven’t been avoiding-AHH!” you gasped as he very quickly pinned you down, your back flat against the rock as he hovered over you.
“You have,” he murmured. “You’ve been avoiding me. Was it the kiss?” he asked, his hands moving to pin your wrists together. “Did it have some sort of effect on--”
Jisung stopped, his words catching as he caught the change of your scent. The sudden flood of arousal that filled the cavern.
“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and eyes darkening. “So that does it for you, does it?” he asked, grinning lopsidedly at you, showing his sharp teeth off. 
“Being pinned down and unable to move?”
You stared up at him, breathing heavily as heat rushed to your core, a tingling sensation starting to form in your toes. “W-what?” you whispered, your voice much softer than you intended. Jisung’s grin widened. “I think you do. I think you like this,” he continued.
You shook your head but your voice wouldn’t come out. Jisung tilted his head, black eyes boring into yours. “I think you’re lying,” he said, leaning down, his lips inches from yours. “I think you like the idea of being unable to fight back,” he chuckled, nose nuzzling into your cheek.
“Maybe I should teach you a lesson for disappearing on me for three nights. Making me worry about you.” You let out an involuntary whimper, feeling his hips grind against yours. Jisung let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, baby,” Jisung whispered as he ghosted his lips over the skin of your neck up to your ear.
“You really should have stayed away another night.”
You let out a squeal as Jisung pulled back, water splashing as he pulled you with him.
You surfaced, kicking under you to stay afloat as you looked around quickly. You turned back to the rocky ledge, to pull yourself up but as you got about halfway out of the water, Jisung resurfaced, pressing against your back and pinning you against the rocks.
You let out a cry of surprise as he chuckled in your ear, his hands wandering to your wetsuit and your eyes widened as you heard a rip of the fabric. ‘Did he just…’
When Jisung pulled back to admire his handiwork, you realized he’d ripped the entire back of your wetsuit open, completely ignoring the zipper right next to it.
You lowered yourself into the water and turned to look over your shoulder at him, finding half of his face submerged in the water. “What the hell!” you snapped. Jisung darted forward, pinning you against the rock wall. “Sorry, little fish,” he chuckled as his hands were quick to start pulling your wetsuit off, leaving you in just your swimsuit.
“That was my favorite wetsuit,” you pouted as you watched it sink into the depths of the pool. Jisung blocked your view, taking your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, leaning in until your lips were inches apart. You stared back at him, unmoving. He hesitated, a slight smirk crossing his features before he finally closed the distance, kissing you.
Your lips parted in a gasp allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your own hands had moved to the rocks, trying to keep yourself from sinking. Jisung pulled back, lips ghosting across your cheek and kissing down the side of your neck.
You felt him nip at the string of your bikini top. “I could easily snap this,” he mused before continuing to kiss along your shoulder. You opened your mouth to retort but he pressed his hips against yours, ripping a moan from your throat instead.
Another roll of his hips and your hands slipped from the rocks. Jisung was quick to grab your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders. “If you need to hold onto something, hold onto me,” he said, watching your face as he rutted against you again.
Your head was swimming, heat pooling in your lower belly as the shark creature grinded against you, one hand holding onto the rocky ledge while the other moved down to your thigh, holding your hips in place. The rocks in the wall behind you jutted out, pushing into your back but you couldn’t be bothered to care, not when Jisung was breathing heavily into your ear, teasing you with his words.
“You know I could pin you down and have my way with you right now if I wanted to, right?”
You let out another moan as he rutted against you. “What’s stopping you,” you breathed, your voice just audible over the sound of the water lapping against the rocks. Jisung chuckled softly, his breath fanning over your collar and neck. “Because,” he started, slowing his movements.
“I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”
One of your hands moved up the back of his neck, tangling in his dark locks. “Then consider this my consent,” you whispered before pulling him into a heated kiss. It only lasted for a few moments before Jisung lifted you up out of the water, placing you on the edge of the rock ledge.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, reaching up and untying one side of your bikini bottoms, letting the material fall before untying the other side and grabbing your hips in his hands. You had no time to ask what he was doing before you felt his tongue rough against your clit.
“Oh shit,” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut, one hand moving to his hair. Jisung ignored your grip on him, merely licking slowly up your slit. “That steak tasted amazing,” he noted, his voice low and gravelly.
“But you taste divine.”
You let out another moan as his lips attached to your clit, teasing, flicking, and sucking on the sensitive nub. You felt the tips of his pointed nails digging slightly into the flesh of your thighs. “Oh shit,” you gasped as he nipped at your clit.
“J-Jisung!” you whined, back arching as he lapped at your clit. “Keep saying my name like that,” he groaned against you. “Sounds so good when you say it like that, baby.”
“I need you pliant,” he murmured, pulling back to look at your slit. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” he added softly. “Spread your legs for me, cutie,” he instructed. “And keep them spread.”
You did as he asked, spreading your thighs, squeaking out a small yelp when he pushed your knees closer to you. “Hold right here,” he said, patting the backs of your knees. You replaced his hands and groaned as you felt his tongue against your slit.
“Relax for me,” you heard him mutter and you took a deep breath.
You felt the tip of his tongue push into your hole and both of you groaned; you at the intrusion and him at the taste and warmth of your cunt. You felt him ease more of his tongue into your walls and wondered if he’d been hiding the majority of his tongue.
You moaned, walls clenching as his tongue moved in and out of you slowly. “F-fuck. I didn’t know you could do that,” you whined. Jisung hummed against you, sending vibrations against your clit and you gasped out.
Just as quickly, he withdrew his tongue and pulled back. “I think that’s enough,” he said as you propped yourself up, chest heaving. “I’ll just have to take my time easing into you,” he added, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer.
You let out a yelp as your lower half fell into the water. “Turn around,” he growled, grabbing your hips and pushing you into position as you held onto the ledge. Jisung lifted you partially out of the water, holding you in place. “W-what’re you doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you, baby,” he chuckled. You felt something warm and wet grind against you and you let out a moan. “O-okay,” you said as he pressed the head of his cock against your slit. “It’s not too late to tap out,” he joked and you shook your head.
“No,” you retorted. “I want this.” 
Jisung hissed, the tip of his cock slipping into you and making you gasp at the intrusion. You hadn’t gotten to see it before he was pushing it into you but it felt huge. You moaned, your walls stretching to accommodate him as he slid in, inch by inch.
“Hold still,” you heard him whisper as he pinned you against the ledge. “What--FUCK!”
You cursed, gasping as he thrust forward, sheathing his entire length inside you with one motion.
“Oh fuck,” you groaned, knees bumping into the rock wall as Jisung bottomed out. “Hah, so t-tight,” you heard him grunt. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” he chuckled, resting his forearm over your back. “Now just stay still, baby,” he continued, slowly pulling back and snapping his hips forward, making you gasp.
“Fuck you feel good. I should have done this a lot sooner,” he mused, setting a steady pace, thrusting into you from behind. “J-Jisung,” you whimpered. You felt his breath as he leaned in close to your ear. “This was more fun when you fought back,” he panted. “So fight me.”
You tried to push yourself up but he just forced you back down. “Come on, baby,” he cooed. “You can do better than that. Beg me to stop,” he laughed, slamming into you, making you see stars with each thrust. “S-stop,” you stammered weakly.
Jisung laughed again, his breath hot and heavy against the back of your neck. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked. “Come on, pet,” he continued, grunting with effort. “Really beg me.”
S-stop, please,” you whimpered, finding a little more strength in your voice. You didn’t want him to stop though. Not when it felt so good. “That’s it,” Jisung groaned. “Keep it going. Beg me not to fuck you. Tell me you want me to let you go. Plead with me,” he growled.
You gasped as he gave you a hard thrust, stealing the words from your tongue and the breath from your lungs. “J-Jisung. Stop. This is wr-wrong. P-please s-uh-stop,” you moaned into the rocky surface. You noticed how your whines and pleas only spurred him on.
You tried again to push yourself up only for him to grab both of your wrists, forcing you back down against the rocks, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. “You really think you can fight me off?” he scoffed, thrusts increasing in speed.
“You think you’re strong enough?”
You shook your head, moans slipping from your lips as your mind started to go blank. “That’s right, little fish,” he smirked. “You’re powerless against me. You can’t do anything. You’re completely at my mercy. This entire time you think you’ve been in control?”
He chuckled darkly. “You haven’t been in control of shit. I let you think you had the power here. You’re out of your depth, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re up against,” he growled, slowing his thrusts to deep rolls, making your eyes roll back and a low moan escape the back of your throat.
“I let you leave every night but you always come back to me,” he continued. “Why do you think that is?” he asked softly, continuing to grind against you, his cock lodged deep in your walls. “Because you’re mine,” he growled. “You’ve been mine from the moment you entered this cave and you’ll be mine when you leave ‘cause no matter how many times you leave after this…” he trailed off, licking against your pulse point.
“You’ll always come back to me.”
You let out a mix between a scream and a moan as you felt his sharp teeth pierce your skin. ‘He just bit you. You’re gonna bleed out, you idiot!’
Despite the sharp stinging pain, the bite was more superficial with only minimal bleeding. It was meant to scar you. To mark you. You were now marked as his. 
Upon sinking his teeth into your skin, Jisung felt your walls contract around his cock and he groaned, his thrusts regaining the same relentless pace from before, slamming into you repeatedly, savoring your cries of both pleasure and pain from the bite. It would heal. It wasn’t that deep anyway.
Your walls tightened, restricting his movement as he felt you cum and he coaxed you through it, whispering words of encouragement in your ear as you came down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”
You moaned in response as he kept going. “It’s my turn, little one,” he murmured. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay. Just let go. I’ve got you,” he added, keeping a firm hold on your wrists. “Gonna fill this cute little pussy with my cum and make you mine.”
He readjusted your hips so the rock wasn’t digging into your hips before chasing his own. The sound of skin on skin echoed around the small cavern, bouncing off the rock walls, mixing with your moans until Jisung finally let out a slew of curses, strung between moans as he came, burying his cock deep inside you and filling your cunt with his seed.
He knew it wouldn’t take. You were human after all. He couldn’t actually breed with you but damn did it feel good to pretend for a few minutes as he came down from his own orgasm, muttering into your ear about how you were bound to him forever and how cute you’d look carrying his child.
When the moment passed, Jisung inspected the bite wound to your shoulder, clicking his tongue. “I could have bitten harder,” he murmured as he released your arms. “It might not show once it heals,” he added as you pushed yourself up. “If it doesn’t show up,” you said, your voice hoarse.
“I guess you’ll just have to try again.”
Jisung smiled as you looked over your shoulder at him. “How about tomorrow?” he asked, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. You rolled your eyes. “I meant after it heals, you perverted sex fiend!”
Jisung pouted as you pushed him away, his cock slipping out of you and retracting back into his body as you shakily pulled yourself up onto the rock ledge. “But,” he started as you grabbed your bikini bottoms and turned to face him. “No buts,” you retorted. “Let me heal first, otherwise you might kill me.”
Jisung watched as you put your swimsuit back on, retying the strings. He watched as you moved back to sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water before moving to push your thighs apart and slot between them, resting his arms on the tops of your thighs.
He smiled a toothy grin when you looked down, meeting his gaze before he spoke.
“So, the day after tomorrow?”
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asoiafsworld · 2 years
Text
THE SUN ALSO RISES.
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pairing; aemond targaryen x fem!reader
summary; you and aemond have been betrothed since you were children and you've been friends since then too. years passed by since the last time you saw him but you kept in contact through letters and eventually, you come to king's landing when you turn of age for your wedding.
warnings; mentions of self doubts and insecurities, nsfw (18+), mentions of masturbating, penetrative sex, praising, breeding kink
author's note; i had two requests for aemond on my old blog that i don't remember exactly but they were both something along the lines of childhood best friends and eventually marrying so here it is! i hope you guys like it!
masterlist
⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰
The sun shone brightly on the horizon, right above your view of the Red Keep from the carriage. The sky was a clear blue, the birds were chirping and it felt like a perfect day for what was about to happen.
You would meet Aemond again after six agonizingly long years.
The last time was in in the capital as well, you were twelve years old and Aemond had just turned fourteen. You were invited to his birthday and you were at court for two weeks, spending your time with him in any way you could. You walked the gardens with him, read books with him about Old Valyria and were always hiding from the adults so it could just be you and him. The prince had a certain reputation, was often mean spirited to anyone who was not his family or you but you always tried to tell him that not every person saw him as a monster and wanted to harm him. His reply always made your heart flutter when you thought about it,
"I do not care if the entire world sees me as a monster as long as you don't."
He would always cuddle up to you when he said something sweet like that because it made him shy to confess his affection to you. It was also a way to make sure that you would confirm his words, to keep you close and to tell him that you indeed never saw him as a monster, which you always did. You knew that he had been through a lot of pain and agony in his childhood, always anxious about never having a dragon of his own and when he finally got one, the biggest of them all, he had to lose his eye for it.
He always told you that it was a fair price, an eye for a dragon but you knew that it still made him feel insecure about his appearance. The last time you came, for his birthday, was the first time you had seen him since the incident with his eye and he was scared that you would reject him, not willing to be his betrothed anymore... He was so wrong.
You loved him all the same and told him that his scar was a sign of his bravery, something you were proud of and never needed to hide from you. Maybe that was when Aemond knew he wanted you and only you, knew that he would never love someone the way he loved you when you gently held his face in your hands and brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs. No one ever touched him as softly and gently as you did and he craved for the years to be over and to finally and proudly call you his wife.
With every letter you wrote to him, every sweet word you used to describe your feelings for him, he only wanted you more. You had always been a sweet, shy and delicate girl since he had known you and he liked that about you because it was so different from who he was. Every day he waited for your letters to arrive and when they did, he would hurry to read it and write you a reply as soon as he could. He could only hope that the love you held for him would hold up after so long and that you would still love him when you saw him again.
Your father was a stern and very traditional man who did not want you to see your betrothed again until you were wed to him because in his opinion, something sinful could happen if you met after both of you were not children anymore. In one of his letters to you, Aemond agreed with him, saying that he could not have controlled himself with how beautiful you must be right now. It only made you blush madly and you wondered if you would have had the will to control yourself if you had been near him in those years... You certainly thought often enough about how your wedding night would be.
In all your daydreaming, you didn't realize that you were already riding through the gates of the Red Keep and that the carriage was slowly coming to a halt. The doors opened and your parents left the carriage first, giving you time to calm your nerves and your heartbeat. You made sure your hair was in place and hoped that you looked fine as you got out of the carriage after your mother.
The entire royal family except for the King was right in front of you and you immediately recognized Aemond, his eyes on you as you met them and you saw the smile that formed on his lips when you smiled back at him. He had grown much taller compared to last time and his features were much more refined now, so handsome and beautiful. He wore an eyepatch, just like he did last time and you still thought that the scar that went from his forehead down to his cheek looked beautiful on him, a sign of his bravery.
Your parents and you greeted the family one by one and you couldn't hide your smile as you bowed to your betrothed, finally so close to you again. The smile that had formed when he had seen you was even brighter now and he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world.
"My lady, it has been far too long since we last met. Words can not describe how happy I am for you to finally be here, you have grown into the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms in the last six years."
His compliment made you blush and you smiled even brighter, so touched by his sweetness.
"I feel happy to be here as well, my prince. I thank you for your sweet words, it seems that even after so long, seeing you again has changed nothing about my feelings for you."
You didn't know when you would have the opportunity to talk to him in private but it was one of the things he was scared of in his letters, for you to come back and not love him anymore. His self-doubts sadly would never leave him but you knew that as his wife and by his side, you could reassure him much better than through letters.
The look in his eyes was telling of what it meant for you to say that to him and you wanted nothing more than to be alone with him right now, to hold him close and tell him that you loved him more than anything. He sighed deeply and you could tell that he thought the same.
"I feel the same, my lady... I very much feel the same for you."
⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰
A week had passed by since you had arrived and there had been dinners and festivities all leading up to your wedding in three days. Many lords and ladies from all over Westeros had come for the wedding and as the bride, it was your duty to entertain them and make them feel welcomed along with your mother and the Queen or as she wanted to call you, Alicent. She had always been friendly to you since she saw how happy you made Aemond who in her eyes was not really happy in anyone's presence except yours so she was endlessly grateful that you were here and would finally stay for good.
Since you had been busy in the past week, you sadly did not have a chance to be alone with Aemond who was clearly annoyed by it. You obviously sat beside him at dinners and danced with him at the feasts you held but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you alone and you felt quite the same and wished for the wedding to be over to finally be with him.
You had finally been able to retire for the night and were taking your jewelry off when you heard a noise from the back of the room as if someone had opened a door. You got scared and took the paper knife from your dressing table and turned around to face the intruder...
And saw Aemond standing in front of you.
You let out a deep breath and put the knife down, holding a hand to your chest to calm your heartbeat. Your betrothed only laughed at how scared you were and slowly came closer.
"You can not just scare me like that, Aemond. How did you get in? Did you know that there was a secret door here?"
He only smiled mischievously and raised an eyebrow at your question. "Who do you think arranged for you to be in a room with a secret door that only I know about?"
The look on your face was priceless to him but you were not mad, it should have been predictable of him actually. You only smiled at his words and stepped closer to him, right in front of him now. The moonlight and candles were the only source of light and he studied your face as if it was an art work.
"I could not wait three more days... Fuck traditions. I want to be with you in every moment, just with you and not do all this shit with dinners and feasts. If I could, I would marry you at this moment just so you can finally be my wife."
Your heart fluttered at his words and you smile sweetly and bring a hand up this cheek as softly and gently as you used to do with him. He closes his eyes at that and leans his head into your hand and holds your wrist just as gently.
"How I missed this... the way you are so gentle with me makes my heart feel like it will burst out of my chest. Six years, six long years I have waited for your embrace and your sweet love and I do not know how I survived without it."
You smile at that and gently go over his cheek with your thumb, the peace and love he feels from you so evident on his face. He always was so much more relaxed with you, didn't feel like he needed to put up a barrier and act like a tough, strong man. With you, he was simply Aemond, your soon to be husband.
He opened his eyes again and looked down at your lips and before you knew it, he was leaning down and had you locked in a kiss with him. You whined at how good it felt and your sound of pleasure only spurred him on, pressing his lips more against yours and holding your face with his hands. His tongue entered your mouth and you felt lightheaded at the way he was kissing you, so passionate and loving. You only let out more moans and couldn't believe that you sounded like this just from being kissed... you wanted him so badly.
He broke away from the kiss and was breathing heavily as he stared at you and kept your head close to his, bringing his forehead down on yours.
"I can't control myself with you, my love. You are so tempting, so sweet and kind and all I want to do is corrupt you, make you beg for me and have you cry from how good I make you feel. I want to feel every part of you, make you shiver with every part I touch on your body."
You let out a frustrated moan at his words and looked him in the eyes, clearly reflecting the desire he was feeling for you.
"I thought about it too, you know. I might still seem innocent to everyone but if anyone knew what I did when I read your letters where you told me that you desired me, I would be doomed."
Aemond was clearly confused but intrigued at this and went over your bottom lip with his thumb. You stuck your tongue out and put his thumb in your mouth, staring at him innocently. His breath hitched at your action and he breathed deeply through his nose to control himself.
"Tell me."
You took his thumb out of your mouth and leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours again.
"I touched myself, Aemond. I touched myself when you wrote that you couldn't control yourself around me. I put my fingers in and fucked myself when you wrote that you were curious about what my body looked like now. I rubbed my cunt and came to the thought of you finally fucking me on our wedding night and making me yours. I don't want you to control yourself, Aemond, never. I want you so badly at every hour and every minute, I don't want you to wait anymore. Fuck me, right now, please."
The look in Aemond's eyes was one you could never forget, laced with hunger and want like you were his prey and he was a predator. He wanted nothing but to do everything you said and make you his and your words only spurned him on, so aroused at the thought of you touching yourself just for him. He growled at your pleading words and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of something else other than you, naked on his bed, touching your cunt and begging for him to satisfy him. He took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes again.
"I will, my love. I will fuck you... on our wedding night. We can not risk anything, even if it is only so little time until we can do whatever we want. But in the next few nights, I want you to do exactly what you did before. Go to bed and touch yourself and think of me doing it instead, of my fingers pushing into your wet cunt and my mouth devouring every part of it. And on our wedding night, I will fuck you until you beg me to stop and even then, I will keep pushing my cum deep into you. Will you do that for me, my little love? Be a good girl for me and do what your prince commands you to."
You squeezed your legs at his words and felt like a mess at the thought of what would finally happen in just a few days. You nodded eagerly, wanting to be obedient for him and placed a small kiss on his lips.
"I will, my prince. I'll be a good girl for you."
Your betrothed only smirks at your words and removes his hands from your face but not before running them down on your breasts through the fabric of your dress.
"I know that you'll be a good girl for me. You wouldn't want to know what I'll do to you if you won't be."
⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰
Your wedding had been a lovely affair, the sept filled with people to watch your union with your now husband take place. You felt so happy to now call Aemond your husband and not just your betrothed and knew that both of you would make each other endlessly happy in the years to come.
It was truly a happy day for you, Aemond only had eyes for you as he did all the nights before and danced with you, made you a hundred compliments on what a beautiful wife he had and you had never seen him as happy as today. You were so lucky to have someone so special and loving in your life who you knew would do anything for you.
It was well into the night when the feast had ended and Aemond and you were on your way to your now joined chambers. You couldn't hide your excitement at what was about to happen but Aemond remained just as composed as ever. You entered your chambers and together and smiled sweetly at him as it was the first time you were alone together again since the night he secretly came to you.
He smiled back at you and held your cheek gently before placing a small kiss on your lips, intending to only kiss you for a few seconds but you had other plans. You held him close to you and kissed him deeply, letting his tongue enter your mouth and you were quickly a moaning mess again because of it. You continued to kiss for a few seconds before he broke the kiss, playful biting your lower lip to keep you from being so eager.
"Were you good for me, my love? Did you do as I say? Did you think of me when you touched yourself?"
You bit your lip desperately and nodded, trying to appear as innocent as you could for him since he seemed to like it when you acted clueless about it.
"I did, my prince. I touched myself and came to the thought of you touching me like that... But I know it doesn't feel as good as when you would do it. Please, I can't wait anymore, I need you."
Aemond seemed to like the way you begged and smirked before grabbing a hold of your waist and throwing you on the bed next to you. You felt your cunt getting wetter at the way he manhandled you, his strength so arousing to you and he was leaning over you immediately, kissing you like his life depended on it.
You moaned and whined into the kiss, feeling as if Aemond was devouring you and showing no mercy to his insistent desire. He was so passionate and demanding in the way he kissed and his hands roamed all over your body, his touches feeling as if they would have burned you even through your dress.
Both of you made quick work of undressing each other as you continued to kiss and soon enough, you were both naked. Aemond let off of your lips as he admired your beautiful beauty, all for him and so pretty and obedient.
His hands came up to your breasts and he wasted no time in kissing and licking all over them, your whiny breaths making him even more eager to make you feel good. He littered his bites and kisses everywhere and you had to press your legs together tightly at the sight of him. His body was a work of art, all muscles and strength that could probably throw you around however he wanted to. He was so focused on you, on making you feel good and you got even more aroused at how sweetly he was touching and treating you.
He kissed his way down from your breasts to your cunt and smirked when he split your legs apart. He looked back up to you and slowly put his hand in your cunt and moved it up and down over your lips before focusing on rubbbing on your sensitive nub. You felt your breath leave your body at the way he touched you and you squirmed in pleasure, willing to let him do anything he wanted.
"So eager and wet for me, my pretty girl, my sweet, adorable baby. I will enjoy ruining you for anyone else, you will only know the feeling of my cock in your cunt."
With that, he slowly entered you with his cock and you moaned out at how long and thick it was. He kept rubbing that sensitive spot and it made you wetter and relaxed for him to further penetrate you. He leaned back down to your face and made you look at him as your face contorted in pleasure.
"So beautiful for me, you look so content with my cock inside you. I know you will never ever enjoy anything quite like me inside of you."
You only whined more at his word and at the way he began to slowly thrust inside you, his cock hitting deep parts in your body that you had never felt before. This is what you wanted for so long when you dreamed of your wedding night, for Aemond to finally give you all of him and to take you apart like you wanted him to.
Aemond thrusted his cock into you at a steady, pleasurable pace and you could see that he was affected by it too, moaning out your name and telling you how good you felt for him. He kissed you again and you had never felt more connected to him than now, your minds and your bodies one in this very moment... and you would have this so many more times for the rest of your life.
It didn't take long for both of you to reach your peak with the way Aemond kept rubbing your cunt and thrusted deeper and harder inside of you. You both came with loud moans and the way you felt his cum shoot inside you made you shiver and clench around him so hard that you felt like you were flying for a moment.
You both catched your breaths as you came down from your highs, Aemond's head right next to you. He looked up from his spot in the pillow and gave you a soft kiss on the side of your head, praising you for how well you did. You smiled at him sweetly and kissed him gently before you let off and smirked at him.
"Don't pull out. You can keep fucking me the whole night, maybe you'll get me pregnant already."
Aemond's tiredness was gone in seconds and he was kissing you eagerly again and you giggled at how silly and eager he was.
You would be happy with him, hopefully forever.
3K notes · View notes
bro-atz · 7 months
Text
absence makes the heart break
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in which: san broke your heart when he suddenly left you, and just when you've finally moved on, he reappears in your life in a way you couldn't even fathom in your wildest dreams
pair: san/afab!reader (ft. wooyoung/afab!reader)
word count: 8k
content: a lot of angst, fluff, a lot of smut, break up sex, one last time sex, romantic sex, taboo sex, sofa/couch sex x2???, raw sex x3??? (remember to wrap up irl pls), heart break, opportunistic infidelity, love triangle???, completely consensual!
author's note: tbh i'm definitely evil for writing this, but i'm in my villain era so let's break some hearts hehe... i og just wanted this to be a "the one that got away" trope, and then my fingers just took me on a wildly different journey, so here we are... don't kill me pls and thx ily xoxo thank you choy @chokchokk for the idea hehe
tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here!
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You and San had been dating for two years— the two of you met right after graduating from college and clicked almost immediately. After one year of dating, he moved into your place, and after two years, things changed suddenly.
You got home from work one day to see all of San’s suitcases by the door. You looked around and saw that pretty much all of his personal belongings were no longer in their spots. You stared at the place in shock— what the fuck was going on? There weren’t any problems in your relationship that you could think of, and San didn’t show any signs that he was unhappy in the relationship. The two of you even talked about having a kid for crying out loud.
“San?” you called out into the apartment. “What’s going on?”
There was no response. You walked around the apartment and looked for him, only to find him in the bedroom. He turned to look at you, and you immediately saw his red, teary eyes. He had been crying.
“Y/N, you’re home early,” he said softly.
“San, what the hell is going on? Why are all of your things by the door?” you asked, your own voice starting to waver.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore… I think we should break up.”
“W-what? San, I don’t understand—”
“I wrote it all in the letter…” San stated as he pointed to the letter on the bed. “I didn’t think you’d come home so soon. I was hoping to slip out while you were at work.”
“Why?!”
“I have to go home for a while. I don’t know how long, and there’s a lot of things I have to work through, so I don’t feel right being in a relationship where I can’t give you the attention you deserve. I’m sorry, Y/N…”
“Sannie, I can help you! That’s what relationships are all about—”
“No, you can’t. You have a life here, Y/N. I can’t just expect you to drop everything just to be with me… Even if we try long distance, I know that you can be there for me, but I won’t be able to be there for you. You deserve to be with someone who can reciprocate, and that person is just not me right now.”
San walked past you and out of the bedroom, but you caught his arm before he could go any further. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks as his back faced you.
“San,” you cried. “Don’t do this… Please… I love you so much. Don’t break up with me.”
You hugged San from behind. At first, he was motionless, but he eventually turned in your arms and hugged you back. He hugged you tightly and dropped his head, his lips by your ear. You heard his voice crack slightly as he whispered, “I love you, too, Y/N. I love you so, so, so much…”
“We don’t have to break up,” you mumbled into his chest. You leaned back and looked into his eyes as you said, “Let me be there for you. We’ll go through it together, and I promise I’ll be there for you even if you can’t be there for me. We can make it work! I’ll just come visit you in your hometown every other weekend.”
“But that’s not fair to you, Y/N… You’d be putting in so much effort, and I wouldn’t be able to do that at all. Then, you’d grow to resent me for not putting more effort into our relationship. I’d rather break up with you now because I can’t stand the idea of you breaking up with me because you hate me.”
“I won’t hate you, San. I love you. I will always love you… We don’t know how the future will turn out! I’d rather stay together and be hopeful.”
“Y/N, I have to go, and I don’t know how long I’ll have to be gone for…” He pulled himself out of your embrace. He cupped your cheeks and wiped the tears staining your cheeks. “This is how it has to be.”
You place your hands over his and hold onto him. When he moved his hands away from your face, you immediately held onto his shoulders and pulled him, your lips meeting his. Your hand rested on the back of his neck and on his shoulder as you kissed him passionately, tears still rolling down your cheeks. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. The two of you kissed and held onto each other desperately as you re-entered the bedroom.
San sat on the bed while you straddled him. You ran your fingers through his hair and clutched his roots as you felt his tongue dive further into your mouth. His fingers slipped under your blouse and held onto your waist, his cold fingers sending goosebumps down your spine. When his nails brushed past the small of your back to move to your bra and unhook it, you moved closer to him, a muffled moan leaving your lungs. San released your lips, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. The string broke when San moved his head down, his nose brushing against your jaw as he targeted the skin on your neck. You leaned your head backwards as breathy moans escaped your body.
You gripped the collar of San’s sweater and pulled upwards, indicating to San that you wanted him to start stripping. He moved away from you slightly to do so, messing up his hair and revealing a white tank top, which he promptly removed to reveal his defined chest and broad shoulders. Even with his messy hair covering his eyes, you could still see the sorrow in them. His lips were slightly parted as he looked up at you, practically begging you to kiss him; and when you brought your lips to his, he kissed you passionately and desperately, which you loved but at the same time did not want him to do so because it meant that he really was going to leave.
San helped you out of your blouse and pulled your bra off almost immediately so his hands could cup your breasts. He planted his lips on one of your breasts and sucked hard, making you hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as his teeth nibbled on your nipple. You gasped loudly when his fingers tugged on your other nipple.
While San got busy with your breasts, turning you on to the max, you unconsciously gyrated your hips on his lap. Your panties were getting incredibly wet, and San was getting harder by the second, making you grind on him even more. San moaned lightly when you pushed your waist against his, his hands moving from your breasts to your ass. He sucked your other breast while slipping his fingers past the waistband of your pants then sliding your pants downwards.
Wordlessly, the two of you removed your pants when you stood up for a brief moment. The second the two of you were completely naked, you straddled him once more, his dick pressing against your clit and stomach. Neither of you said a single word as you held his dick delicately in your hands, adjusting the both of you before sitting down, his cock filling you up. San’s hands held onto your ass as you began to move, his hands assisting you. You moved slowly at first, allowing you to lock lips with the man you loved.
Whimpers, moans, and groans echoed in the room the more you bounced on San’s dick. At some point, he leaned backwards, his back pressing against the bed. Your chest pressed against his as you continued to fuck him, his hips bucking upwards to thrust his penis further and harder into you. You gasped and bit back cries as you felt him rub against your g-spot repeatedly, bringing you to orgasm. Shortly after, you heard San grunt loudly as he slammed your waist against his, his cock trembling inside you as he came. He remained inside you as the two of you rested and caught your breath.
That moment lasted only seconds before San turned you over so that your back was pressed against the bed. He moved your legs upwards so that your calves rested on his shoulders, his dick still deep inside you. He moved slowly and gently at first, and he was still sitting upright. You held your arms out for him, and he lowered himself, your hands immediately moving to hold the back of his neck so you could get yet another taste of his sweet lips. He moved to his elbows while you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to move faster and harder.
San kept up a slower tempo at first, but he slammed his waist into yours repeatedly, your ass stinging a little because of the impact. The pain immediately subsided the more you kissed him, though, until you felt a tear slip out of your eye. San lips left yours as he moved upwards slightly, the two of you gazing at each other. San’s eyes were also misty from what you saw. More tears slipped out of your eyes the longer you stared at San’s face. He wiped the tears from your eyes, but that didn’t stop you from crying, which made him start crying, too. You felt one of his tears land on your cheek, but before any more could fall, he moved back and sped up his thrusts exponentially, quickly bringing you to orgasm, but you were only able to squirt properly after San came again and pulled out, both your arousal fluid and San’s cum leaking out of your pussy.
With a light exhale, San laid down on the bed next to you. He laid his arm out so you could use his arm as a pillow, his other hand cupping your face and wiping tears from your cheek.
“Angel,” San whispered, making you cry all over again because that was the first time all day he had called you by his nickname for you. “Angel, please don’t cry.”
“How can I not cry when you’re going to leave me?” you whispered while crying. “You’re the love of my life, Sannie. I don’t want to break up. Let’s stay together… You do what you need to do, but still be my love, please…”
“Y/N…”
“Please, San. Please.”
San let out a sad exhale. He sat up and said, “Let’s get cleaned up first, okay?”
You nodded slowly and sat up with his assistance. The two of you went to the bathroom and took a shower together, but while usually you two would indulge in shower sex, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look him in the eye. He scrubbed you and himself down as you stood somewhat motionless. Neither of you said a word.
After toweling off and tossing the soiled sheets into the hamper, you and San got into bed. You held onto him tightly in fear that he was going to leave if you didn’t. He pet your hair and left soft kisses all over your face, but you didn’t respond to that because you knew that was him trying to say goodbye. You moved your head down and pressed it against his chest, not allowing him to kiss your face at that point. He settled for pressing his lips lightly against the top of your head before burying his nose in your hair.
“Angel, how about this,” he said quietly. “I won’t leave until the morning, okay?”
You didn’t want him to leave at all. You remained quiet as you thought about his proposition.
“I’ll stay here tonight and sleep with you, then I’ll leave in the morning.”
If he was going to leave in the morning, maybe you could wake up before him and keep him from leaving by hiding his things or just latching onto him and not letting go.
“Okay,” you accepted. “I love you so much, my San.”
San kissed the top of your head once more before resting his chin on your head and hugging you closer. “I love you, too, my angel… My Y/N.”
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You woke up to an extremely cold bed. You immediately sat up and looked around. San was not in the bedroom. You leapt out of bed and ran to the front door to see that all of his suitcases were no longer there.
“San?” you called out into the empty apartment. “San?!”
No response. You ran through the apartment searching for him, but there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. You fell to your knees and bawled. San really did leave.
Little did you know, San was standing in front of the apartment still. If you had just opened the front door, you would have been able to catch him, but you didn’t know that. San pressed his head against the door as he heard you wailing his name, tears falling rapidly from his eyes, and he continued to cry the whole way back to his hometown.
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The following days, weeks, months, you texted San everyday— good morning texts, good night texts, happy holiday, happy birthday, and many, many, many “I love you”s and “I miss you”s; and no matter how much you texted him, you never got a single reply from him. You tried for a year. You even tried to find his hometown so you could get him back by going in person, but you didn’t know where or how to find his hometown. His friends were no help, too. He ghosted them as well. He ghosted everyone.
You wanted to wait for San. You knew that he would come back to you at some point and that you would be able to live your happily ever after with him. But, you didn’t know how long he was going to take. You didn’t know if he ever would show up again.
The thought of growing old and dying alone scared you. You didn’t want to be alone. You wanted someone to love you and be there for you— and that’s when you finally understood what San was saying. You were so lonely without him, and if the two of you were still dating, he still wouldn’t be able to be there for you when you needed him to. So, after one year of waiting for him, you gave up. You couldn’t wait for him any longer; you couldn’t be alone any longer.
You distracted yourself to the best of your ability. You spent more time at work, working well into the night despite the fact that you really didn’t need to. You hung out with your friends often, but you couldn’t keep that up for long because your friends were in their own relationships, and their romantic relationships were more important (and you didn’t blame them because you were the same when you were dating San).
One weekend morning, you went on a walk. Your mind was blank— you spent the entire night before just crying about San and looking at old pictures of the two of you, his favorite movie playing in the background. So, in the morning, you were a zombie. You woke up to see that it was still dark out, but the sun was starting to come up. Your body moved before your mind could process, and you were outside waiting for the sunrise.
You were walking along the sidewalk on a bridge, and you stopped right in the middle of the bridge to look at the horizon. There were a few runners and cyclists and elders out to enjoy the air before the day truly started, and they continued to pass you as you waited for the sun.
A man out on a jog ran past you, only to stop dead in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and saw you. The sky was bathed in shades of orange and pink, and you looked so beautiful among it. The wind was in your hair, your lips were slightly parted, and you were just staring out at the scenery in front of you while the man stared at the scenery before him.
When you ran your fingers through your hair to brush it back, he saw your eyes. Your eyes were red and puffy, and they were still filled with sadness. You were leaning a little too far over the railing, which also scared the shit out of him. He walked towards you and leaned onto the railing himself, startling you slightly, which made you take a step away from the railing.
“Hi,” he said with a beautiful smile.
“Hi…”
He turned his head and looked at the rising sun. He continued to look into the distance as he spoke.
“The sunrise is gorgeous, isn’t it?”
“Yeah… It is…”
“Did you know sunrises and sunsets are brighter after a rainstorm?”
He looked at you, and you shook your head in response— you didn’t know that. He turned his head back to the sky and looked at the universe with a smile. You stared at his side profile. He was handsome, and he looked so beautiful and radiant in the colors of the sunrise. It was as if the sun rose just for him.
“Rainstorms clear up the sky, so the colors are more vibrant because of the clear sky. Sometimes, it needs to rain so the colors can pop and be more lovely,” he explained. Then, he broke into a wide grin and looked at you again, his eyes turning into crescents. “Nature works in beautiful ways. It’s amazing.”
You were speechless. You stood and stared at the man and took in all of his beauty. Nature did work in beautiful ways because it created the sparkling, lovely person in front of you. His smile got softer as he turned to face you. He held his hand out and introduced himself.
“I’m Jung Wooyoung.”
You took his hand.
“Y/N.”
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You fell for Wooyoung. You fell hard. Every single moment with him was bright and happy, and you completely forgot about your heartbreak as you spent more and more time with him. You would go on cute dates like in the park or at the movie theatre— and the two of you would go movie hopping until you got kicked out— or to get ice cream or to an amusement park, but he would also take you to ultra fancy restaurants and rooftop bars and speakeasies. He was such a man of duality, having the cutest and most fun personality while also being a successful president of a company, but you loved it. You loved him.
One year flew by. In that one year, Wooyoung asked you to move in with him, and you did. Living with him was chaotic, but you expected that at the least because Wooyoung was chaotic and unpredictable, but always in a good way. You didn’t know how he was going to surprise you or make you laugh next.
On the second year anniversary of the first time the two of you met, you woke up to Wooyoung shaking you at five in the morning.
“Wooyoung, honey, I love you, but it is too early in the morning for this shit,” you grumbled as you turned in bed and pulled the blanket over your head.
“Please, pumpkin? Sweetie? Cutie? Baby? Lovely?” Wooyoung showered you with all the cute nicknames he had for you as he knelt by the side of the bed and kissed your face all over.
“Ugh, fine,” you complained, but you had the biggest smile on your face. “One of these days, your cute act is not going to work on me.”
“Well, today is not that day. So get up! Get dressed! Let’s go!”
“Get dressed?! At five in the morning?!” you were in complete disbelief.
“Believe me, you’ll be glad you did.”
Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you looked at what Wooyoung was wearing. He was wearing the button-up you loved most on him along with the tie and tie clip you got him for his birthday. So, you wore clothes to match his… At five in the fucking morning.
He held your hand as the two of you walked through the city, the streetlights illuminating your path. It was still very dark outside. The two of you walked all the way to a bridge— the bridge where you first met. Your heart raced. And once you saw his friend standing in the middle of the bridge with a camera, you immediately got a sense of what Wooyoung was going to do.
Right at the middle of the bridge as the sun started to rise, Wooyoung got down on one knee. He held your hand. He told you how much he loved you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life showering you with that love because you were everything to him. You cried. He took out the wedding ring, and you said yes. He kissed you, the sky red, orange, and pink. The pictures of the two of you before the sunrise turned out beautiful and vibrant. Nature really did work in beautiful ways.
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You sat on the couch in the living room reading through one of the bridal magazines your friend lent to you. After Wooyoung proposed, he said he wanted to get married sooner rather than later, so you decided to get married on the day you first kissed, which was four months after the first time you met.
“Hi, baby,” Wooyoung greeted you with a kiss when he got home from work.
“Welcome home, honey,” you said in response, Wooyoung’s lips immediately pulling into a wide grin.
“God, I love when you say that. It makes me feel like we’re already married,” he giggled.
Wooyoung set his bag down in the kitchen before immediately joining you on the couch. He hugged your waist and nuzzled his nose into the nook of your neck before his eyes shifted to see the magazine.
“You’d look beautiful in that dress, and that dress, and that one, and that,” Wooyoung said as he flipped through the pages. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re already so beautiful normally. The dress would just be a complete knockout for me. Don’t wear one.”
“What, you want me to marry you naked?” you teased him.
Wooyoung’s face went red— he was definitely imagining it. “No, because I don’t want anyone else looking at you naked. Only me.”
You giggled and kissed his cheek lightly, but that wasn’t enough for your fiancé. He kissed your lips. A passionate kiss. One that made your fingers and toes tingle. His fingers got tangled in your hair as he gripped your roots tightly, his kisses getting more intense with every passing second. He took the magazine out of your hands and tossed it behind him somewhere, your hands free to hold onto his shirt so you could work on the buttons. His shirt fell to the ground, then yours, and your pants and underwear flew off your bodies in record time.
Wooyoung had you pinned to the black leather couch. His lips trailed along your exposed skin, leaving light pink marks in their wake. You sighed pleasurably when Wooyoung kissed your neck, his hands kneading your breasts simultaneously. You felt his knee press between your legs and rub subtly, stimulating your clit. Tiny gasps and moans escaped you the more he played with your body.
While you enjoyed his foreplay, you wanted more from him. Your arms wrapped around his body and pulled him closer, silently telling him to fuck you. There was a slight smirk on Wooyoung’s face as he positioned himself and slowly entered you, making you gasp loudly.
“Shit, you’re so tight, baby…” Wooyoung sharply inhaled as he pushed himself all the way in.
Wooyoung moved slowly at first, the friction between his cock and your cunt making electricity zap through your nerves. He kept moving at that steady pace of his, but his waist hit yours powerfully every time, and you loved it.
“Mmm, f-feels good,” you barely managed to say before biting your lower lip and narrowing your eyes slightly.
“Fuck, baby… You can’t make that kind of sexy face and expect me to stay calm,” Wooyoung grunted.
“T-then go wild, honey. Fuck me… H-harder!”
His hands held onto your waist firmly as his tempo sped up. You clung onto his veiny arms as you head went back, the pleasure insurmountable. You watched his jaw clench the harder he slapped his hips into yours, your entire body lurching every time he thrust into you. You felt yourself nearly your orgasm as he sped up and slowed down almost randomly, your body unable to keep up with the change in pace.
“I’m gonna cum!” you cried.
Wooyoung immediately pulled out and rushed his middle two fingers into you, his fingers curling and running against your G-spot rapidly, bringing you to orgasm intensely and loudly as you screamed his name.
Mere seconds after the high of your orgasm faded, Wooyoung carefully entered you again, and after about two thrusts, he fucked you fast. His hold on your thighs got firmer, and you could hear his breathing get rougher and faster.
“Baby,” Wooyoung said breathlessly. “Can I cum inside?”
“Fill me up, honey,” you pulled him down by his shoulders. You bit his earlobe gently before whispering, “Give me every last drop of you.”
That did it for him. With one final slam, Wooyoung moaned loudly as he released his entire load inside you, his cock twitching as his seed kept filling you. When he pulled out, his cum leaked out of you, and Wooyoung loved to see it.
Seconds later, Wooyoung cleaned you and the couch up before wrapping a throw blankets around the two of you. You sat in his lap and held onto his shoulder while combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Meanwhile, he traced patterns along your waist and stomach as he told you, “This, this, this… All this. All for me. No one else gets to see it. Only me.”
He leaned into you and trailed his fingertips from the top of your forehead, down your nose, and to your lips.
“And these are exclusively mine. Forever.”
“I’m all yours forever, honey,” you agreed.
Wooyoung cupped your face and kissed you tenderly. You could feel him smile against your lips, making you smile in the process. He moved away slightly and gazed lovingly at you while whispering, “God, I love you so much, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Wooyoung.”
With a final kiss, Wooyoung got off the couch and pulled on his boxers, roaming the apartment in just his boxers. You watched his butt from the couch and bit your lower lip while imagining taking a bite of his ass.
“Hey, eyes up here,” Wooyoung snapped his fingers and gestured to his eyes.
“Sorry,” you said while not really meaning it. “You have a fine ass, babe.”
“I know that,” he replied while smacking his ass.
You laughed and turned away, your eyes landing on the bridal magazine on the ground. You picked it up and opened it back up to the page you left off on. Wooyoung messed around in the kitchen and began to cook dinner while wearing only boxers.
“Honey, if you’re going to cook like that, you might as well just wear an apron and ditch the boxers,” you teased.
“Buy me a “kiss the chef” apron, and maybe I’ll do it.”
You snickered and returned to your magazine as Wooyoung continued to cook.
“By the way, my friends told me that my best man is going to “kidnap me” for the bachelor party. Just wanted to let you know in case he leaves a ransom note for you.”
“Sounds fun,” you laughed. “Oh, wait… Who is your best man, anyway? You never told me.”
“My best friend from college. San.”
You immediately clutched the magazine hard, the pages getting crumpled in your tight grip, and your heart dropped. You must’ve heard him wrong, or maybe someone else shares the same name because, surely, it’s not… San… Like your former lover San…
“I, um… I’ve never met him?”
“Well, we lost contact right after we graduated, then he went to his hometown because he had to take care of some stuff at home, so he’s been there for a while now… Three years, maybe? But, yeah, we made a pact in college to be each other’s’ best man, so he’s my best man for our wedding.”
You nearly tore the magazine in half. The San Wooyoung was talking about was, in fact, the man who was once the love of your life.
“That’s nice… That he kept his promise…” you said slowly, unsure of what to say because your mind was reeling, and not going to lie, you were getting kind of dizzy. “Well, have fun. I mean, when he kidnaps you… For the party— Um, what day is that, again?”
“Next Thursday.”
“Got it…” you nodded; at least you knew when to not be at home.
Wooyoung hummed cheerily in the kitchen as he continued to obliviously make dinner while you sat on the couch, your heart racing, and your mind spinning just remembering the man you loved deeply, the man that got up and left, the man that broke your heart.
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You did a good job of avoiding Wooyoung and his groomsmen until the day of the wedding. Wooyoung didn’t expect a thing because your friends would whisk you away in the name of some wedding mishap, but they couldn’t do that for you at the actual wedding itself. You just had to figure out a way to avoid making eye contact with him and avoid being left alone with him.
You stood on the bridal raiser and smoothed out your dress before turning and checking the back of your dress to the best of your ability. You were all alone in the dressing room by that point because your bridesmaids and mother ran out— they were putting the finishing touches on all the small little details (which you didn’t really care about but they cared a whole lot so you gave them your blessing to go do what they needed to do).
Hanging on the mirror in front of you was your veil. You totally forgot about your veil. You picked it up and attempted to put it in your hair by yourself without messing up your hair. You nearly ruined your hair entirely when the door to the room opened and closed suddenly.
“Hey, Woo, I’ve got the rings and—”
You turned to see your fiancé’s best man. The two of you froze. You locked eyes and stared at each other, your heart sinking.
“No way…” you whispered to yourself.
Your fingers went numb, and you dropped the veil. You continued to stare at him as San smiled at you. His smile was still gorgeous, and he still had those beautiful dimples that you loved so fucking much. Your heart clenched as you observed him act as if everything was okay.
“Hi, Y/N. It’s been a while.”
You remained silent.
“You look nice… Very beautiful.”
“Um, thank you…”
San walked towards you slowly. You desperately wanted to move away, but you were frozen in place. He stood right before you and picked up the fallen veil before offering you his hand to help you off the bridal raiser— he seemed to realize that you were stuck up there. You hesitantly placed your hand in his and carefully stepped down from the raiser, only to forget that you were wearing heels. Your heel immediately tipped to the side as you got down, making you fall right into his arms.
San caught you securely and wrapped his arms around you while you tried to get your footing again, the veil falling to the ground once again. Despite the fact that you regained your balance and tried to move away from him, the man still hugged you tightly.
“San,” you choked out, his name foreign on your tongue. “San, let go…”
“Can we please just… let’s stay here a little longer…”
You let out a tiny, sad sigh. You felt awkward with his arms just around you and you standing still, so you (made a huge mistake and) hugged him back lightly at first. You didn’t realize how familiar his hugs would feel after three years of not seeing him and you found yourself sinking into his embrace. You missed his broad shoulders, the way he would press his head gently against yours, the way his fingers would press gently into the small of your back, and the way he smelled. God, he always smelled so wonderful, and that smell brought you back to three years ago when he made you the happiest person alive, bringing tears to your eyes. You did your best to suppress the tears, though, because your goddamn bridal makeup— you couldn’t ruin that.
Your shoulders trembled as you choked back your sobs, and San noticed that. He loosened his arms around you and leaned away slightly to see your face and notice the tears in the corners of your eyes. He cradled your face as he frowned slightly, his trembling thumbs dabbing the tears— he also knew not to mess up your makeup.
“Y/N, don’t cry,” he whispered.
“San…” your voice wavered.
He pressed his lips together, his own eyes starting to water. “Angel, don’t cry,” he said hoarsely.
You thought that him calling you by that nickname would make you upset, but it made your heart flutter. You blinked several times hoping to clear the tears without them rolling down your face as you looked up at San’s face. However, his affectionate gaze brought tears back to your eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N… You haven’t changed a bit…”
Your lower lip quivered, and you were about to start crying, but San didn’t want to let that happen. He dried your tears and kissed you immediately. It was a light kiss at first, but you missed him so much, and he with you. You held onto his arms tightly as you kissed him back, unable to get enough of him. And when he moved his hands from your face to around you, you moved your hands to his shoulders and just wanted him to whisk you away right then and there.
The entire world faded. In that moment it was just you and your lost lover. Just him holding you brought you back to your younger self when you and San were in love and happy. You fit so snuggly in his warm embrace as if you were two puzzle pieces meant to be pressed together— you felt so right with him.
Slowly, the kisses got more intense, more frantic. He let go of you to pull his suit jacket off, but he made sure to leave his lips with you. When his hands returned to your waist, you untied his bowtie and began unbuttoning his shirt. By the time San reached for the zipper on your dress, you were nearly done with the buttons, and just as your dress strap fell off your shoulder, someone knocked on the door, completely startling the two of you.
“Baby?” Wooyoung asked, happiness exuding from his voice. “Your mom wants to know if you need help with the veil!”
“N-no! I got it!”
“Okay, see you soon! I love you!”
You were completely pulled out of your daydream with San and came crashing down into the real world, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You pushed San away lightly and put the dress strap back on without making eye contact with him. You turned away from him and walked towards the mirror where your veil laid on the ground. You had to get ready for your wedding.
“San, we can’t be doing this,” you told him without turning around. “It’s too late. I’m getting married, and I’m getting married to your best friend for crying out loud! And I—”
“I know, Y/N, but… I need you to know that I never stopped loving you.”
“San, you lost your chance. I’m in love with Wooyoung, now.”
“Yeah… I made a mistake,” San said— you heard the hurt in his voice. “Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.”
You turned to look at him, your eyes burning as they filled to the brim with tears. “Then why did you do it, San?”
With a heavy exhale, San ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat on one of the couches in the room. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together as he stared at the ground.
“For the past three years, all I did was take care of my family. My friends would text me, but I never had the time or energy to respond. I was completely alone… And I knew that if I was still with you, we definitely wouldn’t have lasted because of how inaccessible I was.”
As he talked, you approached him and sat next to him. You, too, looked down at the ground as he continued.
“I never stopped thinking about you. I always wanted to text you back when you texted me saying you missed me, but I was scared… I didn’t want to give either of us false hope. And then, you stopped texting me, so I knew you moved on, and I didn’t want to ruin whatever happiness you had.”
You gingerly placed your hand on his, gripping his hand as you listened to and understood his justification.
“When Wooyoung sent the engagement photos, I was shocked,” he let out a little laugh. “I realized I never told him about you when we were together, and I never got to talk to him about his relationship with you because I distanced myself from everything. I actually told him that I couldn’t be his best man, so he actually hunted me down and wore me down, using our college days against me.”
San moved his hands away from yours and covered his face to let out a shuddering sigh.
“I love you so much, Y/N… I can’t believe I let you go,” he said, nearly sobbing.
Your heart clenched. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him, hoping that he would stop crying because seeing him cry was too much for you to handle. San hugged you back and sniffled while whispering into your ear, “I’m sorry, Y/N… I wish I never had to leave you… I love you.”
You moved away from him and cupped his face— it was your turn to dry his tears. You smiled sadly at him as you said, “I never stopped loving you, too, San. I’m sorry things turned out this way… I just hope that someday you’ll find someone who can do for you what Wooyoung did for me.”
Innocently, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but San turned his head right at that moment, and your lips briefly reconnected with his. You gazed into his eyes and held your breath— no matter what you said, and no matter how much you loved Wooyoung, you still had deep feelings for San. So, when he kissed your lips lightly again, and then again, and again, you let him. Your Superego begged you to stop, but the Id and your libido had more control over you. When San dropped his head and trailed kisses down your neck, you gasped, your head tilting back in response.
“W-wait, San,” you whispered and moved away slightly. “We can’t do this.”
“Just give me one last time, angel.”
“But—” San cut you off by kissing you, and you immediately caved.
You clung to him and continued to let him kiss your lips until they were raw. Both straps of your dress completely slipped off your shoulder and exposed your bare breasts. San, his lips leaving yours, stood up and helped you out of your wedding dress before delicately draping it over a chair and then doing the same with his dress shirt. He then locked the door and turned most of the lights off before rejoining you and pinning you down on the sofa, the two of you kicking off your shoes before you continued.
You wrapped your arms around him and ran your fingers through his hair on the back of his head. His tongue slipped into your mouth and danced along with your tongue, he pressed his chest against yours, and he held onto your waist and thigh, bringing your thigh up to wrap around his waist. Your pants started getting louder in between the kisses, and you were breathing heavily when San released your lips to remove his pants and underwear.
It had been so long that you forgot San’s size. You couldn’t help but look at him in fear as his stiff, red, throbbing dick rested on your stomach. Meanwhile, he looked at you anxiously.
“I don’t have a condom…” he whispered.
“That’s okay… Cum inside, though. It’ll make it easier to clean up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sannie. I’m on the pill.”
You said his nickname without giving it a second thought, and hearing yourself say it made your heart hurt all over again, but before you could cry about it, San left you with a mind-blowing kiss. He gently rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your folds slowly, making you wetter so that when he entered you, it wouldn’t be so painful. Yet, he still took you by surprise when he thrust into you, and you did your best to not moan or gasp loudly.
“Does it hurt?” he asked you quietly.
“No,” you breathed out.
“Will you be okay if I start moving?”
You nodded. Hands holding your waist, San moved slowly at first, and every time his hips would slap against yours, you’d let out a little whimper, your heart longing for San despite the fact that he was right there. The closer his upper body got to you, the faster his thrusts got. You bit your finger to keep from crying out loud as the pleasure rapidly increased. San, however, did not want you to bite your finger. He didn’t want you to get hurt. So, he kissed you continuously even with the two of you shifting on the couch with every thrust.
San caressed your hair. You wrapped your arms and legs around his body. You held onto him tightly as his cock rubbed against your G-spot continuously. His kisses were less of a continuous string the closer the two of you got to your climax. His breathing in between each kiss was getting shallower. He was biting back his own groans, the two of you just letting out smaller, sharper breaths as he thrusted into you hard. His waist slammed into yours hard as the two of you came at the same time. San bit his lower lip to suppress his pleasureful groan while you opted to bite the inside of your cheek.
The two of you panted heavily as the high of your orgasms wore off. You both remained stationary as you brought your eyes to meet his. You knew the regret and the guilt would set in later, but in that moment, you just wanted to be with San for as long as humanly possible. You desperately wanted to be able to cuddle with him and whisper sweet nothings to each other as you drifted into a comfortable sleep. But, that could only happen in the past. That could’ve only happen years ago before San left you.
San pulled out slowly and immediately grabbed the tissue box so he could clean you up. You sat up and caressed San’s cheek, willing him to look at you once again. You kissed him softly for a brief, beautiful moment, until you had to return to reality.
“I love you, San.”
“I love you, Y/N.”
He kissed the top of your head gently. Then, you had to tear yourself away from him. You both got dressed quickly. You took one more fleeting glance at him before you turned away from him, the two of you silently acknowledging the situation. You sat in front of the vanity and looked down at your lap as San carefully made his way out of the room. The door closed gently behind you, and a tear slipped out of your eye.
Wooyoung knocked on the door again to check in on you, and you asked him to send your maid of honor and mother. When they saw the disheveled state you were in, they bombarded you with questions, and you lied for every answer like saying you cried reading over your vow to Wooyoung, or that your hair was messed up because the veil refused to work with you. You felt incredibly guilty doing so, but it was truly the best option considering that you were to get married to the man that you love now in the next couple of hours. Luckily, the makeup artist and hair stylist were able to fix you up quickly and get you ready to walk down the aisle.
You were able to go through the rest of the wedding normally, the only thing— the only person— on your mind being Wooyoung. He was completely head over heels when he saw you walk down the aisle in your wedding gown. He vowed to keep you happy and laughing and to make sure you always felt loved, and you cried. Maybe it was because of the vow, maybe because of the guilt, or maybe a mix of the two; but regardless, Wooyoung dried the tears from your face with the beautiful smile that you fell for, the first smile of his you ever saw, on his face.
When Wooyoung was allowed to kiss the bride, and the two of you shared your first kiss as a married couple, you didn’t have to look at San to know that he was smiling and clapping for the two of you with complete sadness in his eyes. You didn’t need to look at him to know that he was hurting because, truth be told, you were hurting a little as well.
You forgot about the speeches at the reception until your father stood up and started talking, and sorrow paralyzed your body. After your father, your maid of honor spoke, and then the best man. You could barely keep your eyes on San as he stood up to speak.
“Wooyoung and I made a pact that we would be each other’s’ best men back when we were in college, but the thing is, I never thought I’d have to hold up my end of the deal.”
Everyone at the wedding party laughed, and you had to force one, especially when San turned to face the bride and groom with a beautiful smile on his face, his dimples as clear as day.
“But, seeing him here today with Y/N and… Seeing how in love the two of them are… I know that this relationship was meant to be, and I know that you’ll always keep her happy and smiling, Wooyoung.”
Your heart twisted into a knot. You covered your mouth as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. Wooyoung, noticing your tears, held your free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled softly at you.
“I know I don’t have to say this, but Wooyoung, cherish Y/N. She is the best thing that has ever happened to you. Give her all of the love in the world because she deserves that and so much more, and Y/N…” San cleared his throat, the smile barely holding up. He made complete eye contact with you as he said, “Wooyoung is the luckiest guy in the world to find someone who loves him so much… I’m happy that you two found each other… And I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”
He turned away from you and held his champagne flute in the air.
“Cheers!”
San took his seat, and he couldn’t help but look at you from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung had his arm over your shoulder and he was whispering happily to you, the tears on your face disappearing as Wooyoung made you smile and laugh. Wooyoung kissed your cheek and hugged you closer, and San had to look away, his heart breaking, his heart broken.
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maenjiro · 8 months
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nsfw alphabet 𖦹
a/n: ngl i did lamest thing i could possibly do and spelled their names with the nsfw alphabet just to help myself get started and not put pressure on myself already since i actually want to do this okay bye. i hope you will like it ♡ for the ran one i felt bad he only add 3 letters so i just added one randomly.
featuring: takeomi, wakasa, ran, draken, mikey
cw: gn!reader, nothing extreme i guess but it's a nsfw alphabet and it can get nasty you know the drill.
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takeomi
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) this man is a simp for you, would go the extra mile for you with aftercare, providing anything you might need and more, depending on the time of the day he would even prepare food or a snack for you. would indulge in shower/bath time with you, stroking your back and kissing your forehead.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) he had his fair share of experience but i feel like they all were pretty much shallow quickies to get each other off in a passive way. listen, he's a lover AND NOW he deserve that s/o to love and give them pleasure in the right way.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) have i mentioned this man is a simp for you? well, takeomi akashi is a huge simp for you and he would show you that every time you are in bed together. would blurt out an 'i love you' or two so if you ain't ready for that just use your hand to shut him up, or your mouth.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks) might be predictable but he has a daddy kink, for him it's a strictly in the bedroom kind of thing but he just loves hearing you calling him that.. while he pounds into you. also, smoking !! like passing the smoke in your mouth through a kiss. it's so hot to him and he's so hot for that i'm gonna pass tf out like imagine him taking a drag and immediately pulling you in, his thumb and forefinger on your chin pressing a bit to make your lips part and him leaning in for the smoke kiss.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) you. you alone are the motivation for him. the way you tease him all day long knowing he can't keep his hands of off you is more than enough motivation to him. even when you're in public teasing him with subtle acts it really does things to him.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) sometimes he might be selfish with this one but he loves receiving more than giving. having you between his legs making the prettiest noises while he's laying down on his bed, cigarette loosely kept between his lips and his hands in your hair It's just pure bliss. he would casually thrust in your mouth to adjust himself and oh god the half choking sound you make is music to his ears. however, it does not mean he doesn't like giving you head, he happily obliges anytime he wants to spoil you which is pretty often.
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) i don't see him as the biggest fan of toys -not when he's with you at least. *cough* 🔦 *cough* BUT handcuffs might have been brought to the bedroom a few times. not saying you both take turns in cuffing each other's hands but that is exactly what i'm saying (also TOTALLY not saying you cuffed one hand each one time)
wakasa
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) i love him a lot like a lot a lot but i just know he wouldn't really be the aftercare king. he would provide the bare minimum and call it a day, he goes hard and he's exhausted. after that he loves laying in bed with you only wearing his boxer briefs. his arm is around you and he may or may not light up one, a lil something that would help you both relax some more post sex.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks) do i even have to say this? his biggest kink is ORAL FIXATION like that man needs needs something on his tongue at all times and if that something is you he would be ecstatic. i mean, face sitting? yes. gladly losing himself between your thighs.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) tbh i think he can last pretty long despite the lazy vibe he gives off, but he works in a gym and he’s pretty agile and trained, he could go for 2/3 rounds but either way he will stop max at 2.
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character) loves inviting you to the gym when everyone else left and have you take part in the last workout of the day. he likes helping you train your thighs muscles while he keeps your legs spread open for him.
ran
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) okay so it depends. one night stand!ran would likely kick you out. he is an ass. he needs his 24h beauty sleep and needs his bed. fuckbuddy/fwb!ran would leave his room to give you time to clean yourself up and fix yourself. he would offer you a drink and ask if you want to stay over and watch a movie together or something. boyfriend!ran doesn't make a move right away because he takes his sweet time to enjoy the post sex bliss with you. may or may not be clingy. if you try to get up to clean yourself he would pull you back in bed with him. eventually he'd get up and help you get cleaned but a tease is always a tease and he would press a little too hard on your sensitive spot (bonus point if he overstimulated you) with the wet towel looking up at you with a smirk. but to be fair bf ran dotes on you so he would also show his sweet side, after cleaning you up he'd help you get dressed in comfy clothes – maybe with his tshirt – and brush his fingers against your pretty features and genuinely smile at you.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks) yes, he loves degradation. yes, he likes humiliation too. yes, he would use a cute pet name just to add that you're his slut after that. slight spit kink,, spits in your mouth seeing how greedily you opened up when he asked you to perfect mix between "watch your mouth slut" and "open up now"
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) there aren't many things this man wouldn't do but other bodily fluids other than cum and spit is the biggest no for him. i feel like he is lowkey germophobic despite everything. like this man wear white gloves to beat people up.
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) is that even a question? he's pretty much open to try many new things. and talking about risk he recently found out he's into bondage. he loves making you wear pretty ropes, he so happily tied for you, under your clothes when you go out in public together.
draken
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) he's the absolute sweetest man (even tho his frown might be misleading but i mean he is a taurus let him be) and would take care of you in the most loving way, he adores you and it shows – god i love him so much. he would help you and clean you up right away and tell you to use to the bathroom while he makes some hot tea for you (or any other comfort drink you love) like he would have all the different flavors you love in his cabinet. he would ask how you feel and if anything he did was too much AND would offer you a massage. his hands carefully kneading your sore muscles and his lips leaving feather-like kisses on your skin every time he's done massaging a spot. eventually he would lay down next to you and cuddle.
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) he would never hurt you but he loves being rough and get so lost in you, feeling your body against him, your moans and the way you would arch your back for him… this and thinking about you completely at his mercy get him going, he's not ready yet to say it out loud but he might into dumbification. i'm telling you, his groans when he's lost in the moment are the hottest thing.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) i mean yes he's experienced but he's not a ladies' man in the slightest. taking into account where he has lived since he was a kid he got to know more than he would've liked to way sooner than he should've + he was exposed to people having sex non-stop and that ruined for him. he lost interest in sex for a while, so he's more focused on finding someone he deeply cares about. one night stands do not appeal to him at all. though, given all the chatter with the girls through the years, he learned how to properly take care of someone in bed and that's the experience that counts.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks) a dom who loves dirty talking mixed with a praise kink. he's so tall the size kink is a given and he loves to worship your body (at times the size kink makes the worshipping even more fulfilling).
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) anything even remotely noncon, dubcon (including con-noncon) and anything that would cause you physical pain, he would never harm you in any way shape or form
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) he's open to experiment and try some of your fantasies. loves to hear about them from you, it gets him in the mood.
mikey (writing down this here once and for all, i think mikey is a complex character therefore almost everything depends on the timeline we are taking into account, few timelines would be packed enough to have their own nsfw alphabet)
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) okay so i hc mikey being in the demisexual spectrum hence he wouldn't be much experienced just because i don't see him dating many people or being interested in that at all but !! if you two are a thing tbh he would try his best not to disappoint you, he would read up stuff (his browsing history before the main event would be a mess)
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) let's focus on final timeline mikey for this one: again with mikey being demi he's not here for a one time thing. he's in love with you and it makes the act even more special for him and for you, it would be so intimate and loving, lots of whispers and little pleased whimpers, he loves you and has a deep desire to love you and make you feel loved. here i am giving you bike racer mikey being all lovey dovey
k = kink (one or more of their kinks) this heavily depends on the timeline TBFH but anyway overall i think he would be pretty vanilla but he would be into both edging and overstimulation (receiving end)
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) there isn't specific that turns him on but seeing you happy or focused on something you love gets him going tbh it would unlock the clingy mode and he would be all over you trying to get your attention and your kisses
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) i think his sex drive is pretty low, he wouldn't necessarily initiate anything himself either
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naneun-no · 3 months
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From my drafts so it’s late but:
Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.
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🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY
You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣
I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.
So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:
1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.
2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”
Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.
3. Okay the real meaty part:
Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here
[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]
First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”
Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?
Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.
On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.
Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.
Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!
4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.
5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣
6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?
Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.
Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.
✌️
179 notes · View notes
melrodrigo · 10 months
Text
Tardy, part 8
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: An unexpected family member reveal sends you spiraling, will anyone trust you now?
Warnings: Angst that turns into fluff, mention of violence, mention of sex
Word Count 2.6k
A/N: I was dying writing this chapter (both physically and mentally) but I think the writers block is gone! Thank you for 600 followers!! As always, love u guys, and tell me what you think <33
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“Mom, who’s my dad?” You asked absentmindedly, legs swinging from your living room couch.
“All the other kids at school know who their dad is, who’s mine?” You continued, blissfully unaware of the tension you had just created.
Your mom turned sharply, cigarette between her lips as she spoke.
“Oh, sweetie. Your dad’s gone. It’s just you and me now.” She said as she brought the lighter up and ignited the cigarette.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” You’d asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Your mom lets out a frustrated huff before she answers again.
“I don’t know, he’s just gone. Okay? He left town. Would you leave this topic alone now?” She sounded annoyed, and you don’t want to upset her any further, so you nodded quickly and turned your attention back to the TV screen.
“Okay, Ma.”
-
You flash back into another memory, this time you’re older; freshly graduated from high school, ready to move across the country to start university.
You’ve bid your farewells to friends and relatives, promising you’ll come visit every year.
Your mom’s pulling you aside looking at you weirdly. She’s getting old, you can tell by the increasing wrinkles on her face every day.
She smiles softly, and you think she looks like the sweetest grandma ever.
“Honey, I want you to know something. About your dad.”
You raise an eyebrow, mouth dropping slightly.
Your dad has always been a touchy subject for your mom, she’s never really allowed herself to tell you the full story.
Sure, as you’ve gotten older, you’ve learned bits and pieces. He was a dirtbag, leaving your mom right after she gave birth. You’d also learned that you were born in a small town called Woodsboro but had been whisked away almost immediately.
Your mom sighs now, and everything suddenly feels very heavy.
“I just tried so hard to be both parents for you, I know it wasn’t fair to keep this from you for so long. But if you’re ready to learn who your dad is, I’m ready to tell.” She says, voice cracking only the tiniest bit. You can see how strong she’s trying to be.
You suddenly see your whole childhood flash before your eyes. Your mom sending you off and picking you up every day after school. Making meals for the two of you every night, working overtime to support the family.
“No Ma. It’s okay. I already have a dad, and his name is you.” You say, pointing to her heart.
She opens her mouth but you cut in before she can say anything.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need a dad when I have you.” You say, and you mean it wholeheartedly.
Your mother swells with happiness and takes you in a big hug. Wraps her arms around your shoulders.
“Be safe, honey.” She whispers into your ear.
-
You splutter, staring at the page in front of you with a jumble of letters that don’t look like coherent words anymore.
No…it couldn’t be?
There’s no way your dad was Stu Fucking Macher.
It doesn’t feel like you expected it would, finding out who your real father is. Years and years of endless crying; wondering why and why and why.
Every moment has led up to this.
This light, breakable paper in your palms. It’s telling you all you’ve ever wanted to hear, and yet somehow it’s also the thing you need to hear the least.
There’s quick flashes of déjà vu as you stare at the name.
Blood; lots of it. Splattered on the ceiling, all over your body. Screams, loud and clear as day, piercing through your eardrums and starting a ringing sound.
You snap back into reality as Sam steps up to you.
You brace yourself for the worse, you wouldn’t be mad if Sam kicked you out bare into the street right then and there, hell, she could hurt you and you wouldn’t even be mad.
She raises her hand but the impact never comes. Instead, she kneels down to you and holds your shoulders tight.
“It’s okay. I know it’s hard.” She says, soft. Her lips are pulled into a frown but her eyes are sorrowful.
“It’s- it’s okay?” Tara splutters, staring between you and her sister. Flabbergasted would be a minuet way to describe her expression.
“Yes. It’s okay. Can everyone leave the room for a minute? I want to talk to YN.” Sam says, and everyone heeds her orders; shuffling down through the living room hallway.
You stare at Sam, eyebrows knit tight together. She’s hated you since you the day you met, and now she’s the one protecting you?
“Why?” You ask, curiosity seeping through your voice.
“Everyone here has been through something.” She says, biting her lip. “And believe me, if anyone knows about being framed as the bad guy, it’s me.”
She hesitates a little before she opens her mouth again.
“Let’s not pretend that everyone here doesn’t have immensely traumatic things happen to them. Me and Tara…well we know about that. But Mindy and Anika and Chad? You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard from them.” She says, twiddling with her thumbs.
“What if I’m actually the killer?” You press, gauging Sam’s reaction.
She tuts and answers sharply.
“I don’t believe for a second that you are.”
It takes you aback, her being so sure about it. You stay quiet, try to think of anything to say.
You can’t, it’s all too much information to get.
“How can you know that?” You say finally, tilting your head up to make eye contact with Sam.
She pats your back lightly. “You’re a good person YN. We can all tell.”
“We’re a family. One fucked up family, but family all the same. Including you.” She says, voice sure.
You hold eye contact for a while, a silent conversation being spoken. Setting aside all your differences, Sam was actually a really cool person. And you can tell she feels the same way.
Before you know it she’s out down the same hallway the group left in.
You’re sat on the couch, mouth open and eyes glazed.
Huh.
“YN? Mind if I come in?” Tara’s voice sounds from in front of you. You can’t decipher what the tone is.
“Yeah…yeah of course.” You answer, watching as Tara enters and stands before you.
You can’t handle her intense stare, and you drop your head immediately. Anxiety floods you, heart picking up speed.
You don’t notice her until she’s right in front of you, taking your cheeks in her hands. Stroking, softly.
10 minutes ago she was mad, and now she’s comforting you? This girl and her mixed signals.
“I believe you.” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on your cheek. She’s so short that even when you’re sitting down you’re almost the same height.
You don’t want to think about any of this now, you don’t want to think about it ever. You want to tell Tara this, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.
Your throat feels dry, eyes slightly teary.
“So what do we do now?” You whisper.
She continues stroking your face fondly, cradles you in her arms.
“We continue with the plan.” She says, and there’s a sense of finality in it that makes you shiver.
-
They’ve pushed back the date on their plan to capture Ghostface a little bit. Tara won’t admit it, but you know she’s the one who suggested it. She must think you need time to process the sudden father reveal, no doubt.
It’s sweet, but she’s wrong. In fact, right now all you need is a distraction. Something to take your mind off all the racing thoughts through your head, the sense of betrayal you feel.
Maybe I should call my mom.
“Hey. Whatcha thinking bout?” A voice sounds from behind you. It’s Anika, and you send her a soft smile; feeling weirdly glad to be in her company.
“Oh nothing much. Just about how my dad was one of the original Ghostfaces and that we’re literally running straight into danger in a few days.” You say, trying to make your voice sound light and teasing.
Anika seems to pick up on the underlying message, and you hear her sigh a little before speaking.
She rounds the couch to come sit down beside you, a pack of medical supplies in her arms. She splays it across the table and turns back to face you.
“If it makes you feel any better, I know what it’s like to have a rough family. My parents were…dipshits to say the least.” She says, casually.
Oh.
You try and think of something appropriate to say in response, but your brain seizes up and it goes blank.
“But you don’t have to feel bad for me. I have a new family now.” She continues, smiling at you; genuine crinkles at the tips of her eyes. She pats your back lightly.
“Just so you know, I don’t think you’re the killer. Who cares if your dad is Ghostface? It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened in our friend group. I trust you, really.”
It’s enough to make you teary-eyed again. You look away, hoping she can’t see them.
“Thank you.” You mumble. “That means a lot to me.”
She chuckles warmly before taking you in a hug. You guys don’t say anything the rest of the time she fixes up your wound.
-
“Are you blushing?” Tara asks immediately when Anika leaves the room, footsteps light.
“What? No, I’m not.” You say, running a hand through your hair.
“Did she make you blush?” She’s asking, a teasing smile on her lips.
You frown.
“She just said some very nice things to me, okay?” You huff, cross your arms like a child.
“Aw, baby. You look adorable.” She murmurs, giving you a peck on the lips.
“Are you not jealous?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at her.
She brings a finger to her lips and feigns thoughtfulness. Then she smiles wide and takes your lips in a searing kiss.
“No.” She mumbles against them. “Because I know you’re mine. And I can definitely make you do a lot more than blush.”
It’s enough to make you flush completely red. You let out a little whine at her words.
“See?” She’s asking as she leans back, a smirk on her lips. You try and wipe it off by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another kiss.
She’s not wrong. But you’re not going to admit that. It’s a fatal flaw, really. How easily you relent when it comes to Tara. You’d die for her, you’d kill for her, and she knows it.
“Come on,” She’s whispering. “Let’s go to my room.”
You pull back, amused.
“I don’t think I can even stand and you’re asking me to do what?” You ask pointedly.
She tugs on your shirt, obviously not in the mood to play one of your games right now.
“Then maybe I’ll just take you right here.” She whispers into your ear, laughing as you shiver beneath her.
You gulp, stare at her with big eyes. She crawls forward, leaning her elbows into your sides on instinct.
You can’t help but wince.
It seems to break Tara out of her lustful haze, because now she’s looking at you with worried eyes.
She’s getting up kind of panicky, fiddling with her hands.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should let you sleep.” She says, sort of fast, words tumbling out of her.
You smile at her, grip her hands tight.
“It’s okay, Tara. Although, I do want to hit the hay for a while. Care to join me?” You invite, tugging her closer slightly to make sure she doesn’t leave.
She grins shyly and nods.
“Okay.” She says, biting the inside of her cheek. She’s the cutest with the excitement that radiates off her.
-
When you wake, Tara’s not in your arms anymore. You stir, rubbing your eyes aggressively.
“Tara?” You groan, trying to look around the weirdly dim room for any sign of your girlfriend.
You notice the candles immediately, more than a dozen of them lining the table and making a little pathway to the fireplace.
Your girlfriend appears in front of you now, wearing a little white sundress; one you’d specifically bought for her weeks ago.
She looks so good, you almost start drooling. Like an angel, the way she’s standing and staring at you, playful, excited gaze.
“I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” She grins, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“What is all this?” You question, looking around the room in further inspection.
There are two plates set up quite nicely on the dining table, along with a bottle of champagne and a single flower in the middle.
It’s all so, romantic.
Tara twirls, and gives you a little show of her dress. Then she takes your hand and gently helps you up, leading you to the dining room with her.
“I never got to take you on a date. I think it’s time I return the favor.” She says, nodding along to her sentence; like a reassurance.
“You’re adorable.“ You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. She blushes a little.
“Thank you.” She mumbles.
The smell as you enter the dining room is mouth-watering. You recognize it immediately. It’s your favorite pasta, ravioli with white wine and tomatoes.
Tara’s an amazing cook, you know this already. But the flavors that explode in your mouth when you take a bite out of it are otherworldly.
“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked.” You speak through stuffed cheeks, eyes wide and happy.
Tara picks up a piece of her own and eats it.
“I didn’t know what to make you, so I called your mom. She said this was your favorite, so I went on youtube and tried to replicate the recipe.” She says, somewhat shyly.
You beam.
“You called my mom?” You ask, teasingly. Boop her on the nose. You celebrate internally when you see her flush red.
“Yeah, it was no biggie. Just a phone call.” She disregards, biting her bottom lip to try and stop the color that’s overtaking her whole face.
She reaches forward to grab another piece of ravioli before she stops short and gasps.
“Oh! I almost forgot to give you these.” Tara says, reaching behind her chair for something. She pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers, filled with your favorites.
You don’t try and hide the surprise in your face, mouth open and gaping.
She slaps your arm lightly at your reaction.
“Hey! I can be romantic too you know.”
You nod sarcastically.
“Oh yeah no doubt no doubt.” You say, taking the bouquet from her hands in favor of bending over the table and kissing her.
“Thank you, baby.” You say against her lips. She smiles wide, scrunching her nose as she pulls back.
“You taste like pasta!” She’s giggling, pushing you back into your chair.
You finish the dinner in record time, and that’s due entirely to how good the meal was. You and Tara sit and talk for a little while before moving to the floor to watch a movie.
Tara’s annoyingly secretive about it, not letting you see whatever she’s setting up. You huff and go grab snacks from the fridge instead.
When you get back it’s to the TV covered, and there’s a small projector at the side shining light on a random bed sheet she’s hung vertically.
“Impressive speed.” You praise.
Tara’s sitting smugly, arms open and inviting you to come sit.
It’s playing 10 Things I Hate About You, one of your all-time favorite movies. You settle down into the spot next to her and sneak a glance over, but she’s already staring at you; hard.
You let out a breath of happiness and pull her closer by the waist. Kiss her on the forehead, murmur against her skin.
“Thank you for this. I needed it.”
She nods into you and pulls you impossibly closer.
“Of course.” She says.
You decide Ghostface can wait, your dad can wait. All that matters right now is Tara. Her and this movie and you.
The only three things that exist in the world.
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look-at-the-soul · 10 months
Text
The way to a man’s heart
Tommy Shelby x reader (dark) -minor smut mentioned
Wrote this for my dear Lee @zablife 1.8 k celebration 🎉 congratulations my dear Lee! I wanted to write this for you remembering how much you made me enjoy dark stories and it’s a great excuse to wish you a thousand more followers, thank you for being so kind always, for always having something nice to offer and the absolutely brilliant ideas you share! ✨👏🏻
My first (and probably only) attemp to write a little “corrupt” story, this idea came to me naturally and I hope I was able to deliver the main point since it’s so far away from my usual fluff 🥰
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They say food it’s the way to man’s heart. But to a man like Tommy Shelby who rarely eats and has a whiskey and cigarette for breakfast, that doesn’t make a huge difference.
Those methods wouldn’t work with a man like Tommy, he needed other kinds of resources.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Y/N fixed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Stepping back into the bedroom, she found him in the same spot he was when she got up; lying on his back against the headboard and his eyes lost in some point at the ceiling, one of his hands touching the hem of the sheets covering his lower body.
She definitely took his breath away, it was easy to tell judging by his post-sex drunk state. Who was she trying to fool? Y/N knew the kind of power she held over him.
His blue eyes covered by his specs followed her every move as she walked towards the bed wearing only the bottom part of her silky underwear, her hips swaying to a tune that him weak, not only physically, but emotionally.
“You’re so quiet darling.” She purred in his ear, after climbing back into the bed.
“I missed you.” He admitted bluntly. “I don’t want you to leave ever again, you understand?”
Y/N started running her fingers over his chest hair. “You know why I did it, your family hates me.”
Tommy turned his head towards her.
“I’m so sad you believed them, over me.” She pouted. “I’d never betray you.”
“Nothing they do or say matters anymore, I know you didn’t… I trust you.”
“But they will try to tear us apart.” She complained, looking at her hands.
Tommy changed his position on the bed, leaning on his forearm, he used his other hand to make Y/N look at him. “I’ll protect you, from now on you’re my only priority.”
“How could they even imagine I was the one who got them arrested? You never mentioned anything to me.” Y/N batted her eyelashes, one of her fingers removing an invisible tear.
“I shouldn’t have listen to them, I made a mistake but I’m trying to make it up to you for that.” Tommy’s fingers caressed her chin gently. The last thing he wanted was to upset her more than he already had. “I’m taking over this, I will demand every single one of my family to apologize to you.”
“No, Tommy that’ll cause a confrontation, specially with your aunt… I’m just so glad they got released on time, it was so close.” With a loud sigh, Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, her soft hand running up and down his arm.
“You never told me how you were able to get the letters, those must be some pretty important contacts.” He recalled the really late night when she knocked on his door with a copy of each letter to release his family from the death sentence, Y/N saved them from getting hanged last minute. He would be forever grateful with her.
That’s when Tommy realized how much she loved him, how she was willing to do anything for him.
Y/N noticed his piercing eyes on her. “What?”
“Something is bothering you.” Tommy stated.
She shook her head. “It’s just… it’s not fair for you Tommy, look at everything you have gave your family, power, money, their lifestyle, everything they have it’s because of you… it wasn’t your fault the police took them.” She looked at him, batting her eyelashes. “And look at how they treat you? The lack of respect makes me feel annoyed, they won’t even talk to you although you somehow managed to save them from getting hanged.”
“They are all angry because of what happened. It must’ve been a shock to be so close to death.”
“Don’t try to justify their attitude towards you darling, you’re too good for them, you’re always cleaning up their mess, helping them with everything… they don’t deserve you.”
Tommy sighed, defeated, thinking of her words… she was right, his family couldn’t even thank him for getting them out of jail in one piece.
“Look at this place, just the two of us, this is all we need. Just cut a little their privileges and you’ll see how they’ll come on their knees.”
“I understand they’re angry, but over time, they will come around.” He tried to reason.
“And then what? They will create more drama around me and try to make you turn your back at me, just like they already had, I’m worried because they almost succeeded.”
“I’m so glad you showed up in my office to explain me what happened with Pol.”
“She can’t stand that you’re better than her, I’m sure she wants her son to take over your place, you should be careful with your cousin I’m sure he’s after you.”
Tommy shook his head. “Michael isn’t like that, he’s just a lost kid, wants to blend in with the family.”
Y/N moved her hand lower, to a dangerous zone, over his hip bone. His member started to grow involuntary at the sensation of her warm palm close to his manhood.
“Arthur never listens to you and look at Finn, he’s always doing as he pleases.” Tommy hissed as her hand wrapped around his shaft and started dancing up and down. “You need to tighten the reins around your family or they will ruin your plans.”
But Tommy was already focusing on the feeling of her legs straddling him and the movements of her hand, taking him to a better place where he didn’t have to argue or yell or demand anything, she knew how to please him, she listened to him and his loud mind. In no time, he found himself inside of her, the only place where he could forget about every worry and doubt, her velvety walls fluttering around his hard member, her nails on his chest scratching him.
Demanding only pleasure from him.
And he delivered returning the pleasure she provoked in him.
Later the doorbell made her open her eyes, heavy from their love-making, Y/N looked down at the man sleeping in her arms. Careful to not wake Tommy up, she slid from under his body, covering her naked frame with the jacket of his suit.
Pretending to be surprised by the woman in front of her -because she called his aunt on behalf of Tommy-, she made evident the mark on her neck that Tommy left.
“Sorry for not inviting you in, but your nephew is sleeping.”
Polly shot her a shocked look mixed with all the contempt in her heart after realizing how she had fooled Tommy and turned everything around in her favor.
“Who’s it?” He asked from the top of the stairs.
Quickly, Y/N pulled Polly for a short hug to whisper in her ear:
“Next time the letter won’t arrive on time to save you from getting hanged. I want you and every fucking member of the family out of Tommy’s life.”
“You can’t do that.” Polly looked at her with terror in her eyes, why was she back with Tommy? After finding out all the lies she had him wrapped in, Polly tried to make Tommy open his eyes, but everything turned out wrong and they were back together.
“I’ve him by the balls, that’s stronger than any blood ties. It’s up to you if you want me to turn him against all of you.” Y/N gave Polly one smile that assured her victory before turning around to face Tommy. “Your aunt said she wants to talk to you, just be quick darling, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”
Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N pulled Tommy by the neck for a passionate kiss, she devoured his mouth completely, demanding the same response from him. Just one kiss and he was put into some kind of spell.
Tommy made sure Y/N was out of sight before grabbing Polly by the arm to make her stand closer to the door.
“Y/N explained me everything, I want you to apologize to her tomorrow and after that I want you out of the Shelby Company Ltd. I won’t be tolerating one more intrigues from you, she didn’t lie to me.”
“She’s manipulating you!” Polly hissed, shocked to see her nephew completely blinded by that woman.
“Pol stop! You thought you succeed but nothing you can do will take her away from me, she loves me and she forgave me for doubting her words.”
“How can you be so fool? She’s using sex to-”
“That’s what you came for? Ey?” Tommy raised his voice. “That’s all, I want your resignation letter tomorrow morning.” He placed his hand on Polly’s back to guide her out of his house.
“She lied!”
“Stop this bullshit Polly, Y/N didn’t know you shot Campbell because I never told her.”
Hiding in the dark, but close enough to hear, Y/N smiled pleased, Tommy didn’t know how much he could talk after several strong drinks and mixing it with the mind blowing sex and he could turn into the most talkative person.
But her smile grew bigger as she heard him yelling at his aunt, saying things Polly would never forgive him for, breaking their business partnership finally, just like she had planned all along.
“I knew she would try to tell you more lies about me.” She crossed her arms against her chest and slowed down her pace, hiding her grin with her hair.
Tommy’s arms found their way around her waist, in a comforting motion.
“I know you’re not lying to me,” he stated firmly. “We’re going to start over, away from this shit, ey?”
“Is that a promise?” She gave him her best puppy eyes.
“I swear to you, no one is coming between us.”
She felt Tommy kissing the top of her hair.
Now, she only needed to get rid of his brothers and convince him to put the company under her name.
****
Master List
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane
446 notes · View notes
quolafish · 11 months
Text
Tomura Shigaraki is so touch starved.
Love him. Comb your fingers through his hair, kiss his lips, just… shower him with love. Not just empty sex, give the man more. He needs more than just pleasure. He needs the aftercare, the emotion, the passion, everything that makes sticking around afterwards worthwhile.
He’s so insecure. He deems himself unlovable. He doesn’t deserve to be loved, he thinks, and honestly he’s probably right. Tomura Shigaraki is a victim, he was abused and thrown onto path of villainy, and he treads on it until he reaches his dreams. It’s not fair the stupid, ‘never give up on your dreams motto’ doesn’t apply to everyone. It’s selective, and why the hell should he care, why shouldn’t he just get what he wants?
Heavens, he can just take you, can’t he? He could keep you hidden away forever and never let you see the light of day again. He could keep you, he could get rid of you, he could literally have you any way he wants but he couldn’t do any of that. Not when the fact is when he makes you cry when he yells, he wants to tear his throat apart, rip out his larynx and decay the voice box. Not when the sight of you trembling when he’s in one his slumps, refusing to leave his smelly depression room, holding a shaking plate of a meal you made for him, knowing he hasn’t eaten in a week.
You look afraid of him in those moments. Your stupid to think he would hurt you. He’s stupider to make you think so.
You’re fucking quirkless. You’re useless to him, you should be useless to him! You have nothing to bring him close to his dreams and somehow you attack him, like a vicious disease, with new, stupid dreams of being touched and held like a person, a man that is loved. He’s a villain! He wants to be one, he needs to be one. Or else what’s the point?
He hates the world to the point of hating ever living, breathing thing. You must be a fucking zombie then. That’s ridiculous. You’re the most prettiest thing this world has ever assaulted him with, and your gentleness makes him dizzy. The only use you should have is… pleasure, he won’t deny he’s a man with needs and desires, but fucking hell! You’re no sex tool! The horrible lie makes him want to throw up his thoughts. He doesn’t when he realizes you’d be the one to hold his hair back and rub his stomach. You’re his peice of heaven the gods were stupid enough to spill down the drain, and now you’re stuck in the rat-infested sewers that is Tomura Shigaraki.
But you’re not. Not stuck, he means. He could make that be so but you know he won’t, he knows he won’t, hell, anyone with a brain who catches a glimpse at how he looks at you through Father knows you’re the first person to see him without the hand in years other than Kurigori. Anyone who jokes Tomura keeps you around for fun is getting decayed into nothing. Not even Dabi would dare. You’re all his but at the same time you’re not really. He’ll never admit it with words but when you have him in your arms, running your fingers through his greasy hair until you fall asleep, he’s all yours.
Yours, yours, yours!
Tomura hates himself for not hating it! For not hating you! You’re weak in the sense he needs to protect you, and yet you bring the man to his knees when coo his real, real name softly before the dreaded, three lettered word and that just makes him cry. A horrible contradiction, a mind numbing, mind cradling contrast when a monster is loved by an angel.
You… shouldn’t love him. He wished you didn’t, but at the same time he hopes you never stop. He hopes you never stop looking after him, hopes you never heal from whatever delusion of him you have in his mind. He’s a horrible boyfriend, and he knows it. And yet he tries to be better even though he can’t take you on dates. He tries to cuddle you even though he’s too afraid to make skin-to-skin contact; he’s so afraid he raises his pinkies when he wears gloves. You’re precious, you’re the death of him, the death of a villain and he starts having delusions of his own.
Delusions your sleep-inducing love twist into a dreams, lulling him into a temporary rest in your arms. Dreams of redemption, of being in your arms forever.
Tomura Shigaraki is irredeemable. He’s killed countless. He’s a monster. He’s selfish. He’s the viscous disease, he’s the life sucking zombie, he’s the parasite, the pathogen, sucking all your love like a greedy vampire, sucking you dry. He can see what this relationship does to you. It lasted years because Tomura Shigaraki is selfish.
He’s not being selfish when he leaves you, forcing you to forget him.
643 notes · View notes
lewkwoodnco · 6 months
Text
"Slut!" - Lockwood x Reader
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A/N: been having a lottt of thoughts about this song. it wasn't what I expected like for a lot of ppl but this is immediately my favourite?? like idk man those hints of her rep era beginning mixed with the emotional vulnerability of being in love mannn im going to be annoying abt this for a wholeee month. Reader is a Fittes agent, wc 5.4k!!
Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5
On paper, her employers had always commended her for her drive for excellence. What was usually glossed over was how it arose from an unhealthy obsession with perfection, not that it mattered. And yet, glowing articles about successful cases were rare and far between. She had led as many successful cases as some of her male colleagues, but those headlines were seemingly too dull for her sex. After all, who wanted to read about a woman showing up the men in her field? So the tabloids started to play dirty, spinning convoluted rumoured love stories from any and every photo of her in the vicinity of a man.
She remembered how devastating the first article was. Instead of publishing one of the many photos of her standing with her team, there was a shadowed, grainy photograph of her talking to their supervisor. She tried to tell anyone who asked her that no, they weren't kissing, not that it would have mattered if it did, but no one seemed much interested in listening. The shame burnt into the side of her face like a scarlet letter. A slut.
Eventually, she decided to just keep everyone at arm's length. Maybe if she kept her head down long enough they'd run out of knives to throw at her. And for a good two years, it somewhat worked, or at least helped. But then she met Lockwood.
She didn't think much of him at first - if anything, she resented his suave, silver tongue and how the press went nuts for his charismatic smiles. He tried to dazzle her with one when they first met, and she nearly scoffed.
"Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co. And you are...?"
"Disgusted."
She tried talking to Barnes, throwing in some less-than-complimentary opinions on Lockwood, but he just waved her off. Eventually, she came around, but only because he was undeniably skilled, and it would have been unprofessional to freeze him out forever.
She remembered the first time he made her smile. Their supervisor was having them sign their case report, so she wasn't even looking at him. He whispered some inane remark which caught her completely off-guard, but it was enough to make her damage the tip of the fountain pen as she choked on a laugh. Her supervisor looked unimpressed, grumbling about the pen, but Lockwood's face had taken on an animated spark.
"Oh, good. I was beginning to wonder if you knew how to smile."
The smile is a foreign feeling on her face. Lockwood gently takes the report from her and starts talking in smooth tones that flow right over her head. She shakes herself and tries to pull herself together, trying to soothe the nervous flutter of her heart. She can only bear catching glimpses of his words and she struggles to string together coherent responses.
But then she hears the vans pulling up. Vans filled with news agencies and their bulky cameras. She's paralysed by a flash of fear and she jumps apart from Lockwood as if burnt, tripping over her words as she forces out some lame excuse of needing to check on her team. Lockwood looks mildly concerned, but she pushes it to the back of her mind.
They meet again a week or two later. She's sitting outside a conference room, waiting for Barnes to finish a meeting, and she realises with a start that the man in the room she's facing is Lockwood. To be fair, she hadn't seen him in an indoor setting before, and he seemed nearly unrecognisable with his typically crisp shirt dusty and wrinkled, with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. She watches him laugh over something with one of his associates as they leave the room, and she drinks in the sight like a man starved. There is something so desperately appealing about the vitality in his face and jaunty movements.
As the smile fades, she recognises the exhaustion on his face; the kind that made her want to do nothing more than stumble home and crawl under the covers. But then he sees her, and he gives her a teasing smile that stokes her spirits. His associate gives her a tired wave and walks out.
"Waiting for me?"
She rolls her eyes and nods towards the conference room. "Waiting for Barnes. Going home?"
He jerks his head noncommittally before sitting down next to her. He looks oddly bare without his coat, and it feels almost too intimate to have him sitting this close to her. She sits up, alarmed.
"What, you need to see him too?"
"You look like you could use some company."
"Lockwood, it could be hours before he's done. Besides, you look like death. Go home, get some rest."
"Joke's on you, I always look like death."
She shakes her head but smiles despite herself. "You're incorrigible."
"Thank you."
They sit in silence for a while, long enough until her breathing evens out. She wonders if he's aware of the way his fingers drum restlessly on his thigh, or the ash coating the side of his face, or how both of those things make him utterly irresistible.
"How do you do it? Stay so young, I mean."
He considers his answer carefully. She takes in the sight of a Lockwood without a ready quip at the tip of his tongue. "I suppose it helps that I'm not singly obsessed with the dead, though it does get close sometimes. Who do you live with?"
"Oh, my family lives outside of London." Thank god. She couldn't imagine the looks on their faces if they heard half of what London's tabloids had to say about her.
"You live alone?"
"Yeah. But it's not so bad. There's a cat that wanders in the street below my flat at night." He doesn't look completely convinced, but he lets it slide.
"Really, I owe it all to my friends - oh, you'd love them. You should come over sometime."
"That's sweet of you."
"Our weekends are generally empty."
"Oh...I couldn't. I don't know where you live."
"35 Portland Row."
"Lockwood," she admonishes. "Don't you think this is something you should run by your friends first?"
"I've done worse."
"I'm practically a stranger."
"Then how else are we supposed to get to know you?"
Her mind tears her away from Lockwood's silhouette, to troubling piles of tabloids dragging her to filth. After months of them, she isn't sure where she ends and where the fabrication begins. She barely manages a whisper.
"I think you'd regret getting to know me."
She doesn't realise how tightly her fist is clenched until he brushes her wrist, and the tension flows out of her. His eyes are liquid and his touch is golden and she's paralysed with dizziness. In that moment, it was enough to be young and in love.
"Only one way to find out."
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She takes him up on his invitation sooner than either of them expected. They had just finished a job at a house just a street over from Portland Row, and her team was walking with Lockwood & Co. on their way to the main street. She pauses as George fiddles with the frozen door while the rest of her team walk on, tiredly waving them good night. But just as she turns to leave, she slips on a patch of ice, falling into a pile of snow while Lockwood lunges for her.
"Dear god, you must be freezing. Come in and warm up."
"It's alright, I can catch a cab home-"
"Y/N, I am not above pushing you back into the snow."
Her laugh morphs into a violent shiver, just as Lucy walks over concernedly.
"Everything okay? Lockwood's not bullying you, is he?" She cracks a small smile, but Lockwood just impatiently ignores Lucy.
"Stay for breakfast. Spend the day. Lucy would love the company. Luce, tell her."
"It would be nice."
"I'm soaked through. I need a change of clothes."
"Lucy can get you a change of clothes. Luce, tell her."
"I can get you a change of clothes."
"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."
Lockwood inhales and turns to Lucy, who smacks the breath right out of him.
"I'm right here, Lockwood. Don't be ridiculous, Y/N, we'd love to have you over." Lucy exchanges a look with Lockwood, but it's so brief she wonders if she's imagined it, but it's just then that George forces the door open, and she gets jostled into their warm and dry home. Lucy helps her dry off and tosses her some clothes, including a spare oversized jumper, before bundling her and setting her down in front of the fire in the library.
It feels wonderfully cosy at first, and she only realises she's dozed off when she wakes up with a crick in her neck and beads of sweat on her forehead and neck. She pushes the blankets off her, sighing in relief as she starts to cool down. She hears the rustle of a page behind her and turns.
Lockwood is sitting in an armchair behind her, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, a magazine on his lap. He smiles weakly at her, wincing as he rotates his neck. She was beginning to feel convinced that he ate, slept and worked in the same set of clothes. Her voice is gravelly with sleep.
"Still up?"
"Someone had to make sure you didn't roll into the fire. Besides, it hasn't been long."
She squints at the clock hung near the door. Unless the shadows were playing tricks on her, it was only a few hours from dawn. The glance he shared with Lucy earlier flashes in her mind, and she presses him about it.
"Say, you haven't told Lucy anything particularly saddening about me, have you?"
He waffles a bit. "I haven't said anything that isn't true."
"Lockwood."
"Fine...I might have mentioned how you live alone, and that you've only got a cold, dark home waiting for you. Alone."
"I didn't say that."
"So you're saying it's not true?"
She hesitates, and he quirks the corner of his mouth triumphantly. "It's no bother, Y/N. Lucy feels as bad about it as I do - George too. Just let us fuss over you for a while, I promise it'll soothe us."
She relents, but she's not happy about it. She watches him lazily flip through the pages with a becoming interest and decides that it's a nice change from the frantic energy running through him on cases. His eyes stay mostly fixed on the pages, but after a while the way he glances up occasionally makes her think his interest is waning. He looks at her strangely, and she unpleasantly realises that the jumper is likely his. She tugs at the hem, itching to take it off, but she isn't wearing a shirt underneath, so she settles for continuing to profusely apologise.
"I'm so sorry for burdening all of you-"
"Y/N, relax. As long as you're warm."
"Well...I'm awake now. And I won't stay too close to the fire. Aren't you going to sleep?"
"I'm a bit wired after the case. Might take a nap later in the day." He jerks his head towards the door. "My room's just down the hallway if you'd like to get some proper rest."
She flushes; talking about his bedroom while wearing his jumper feels too intimate to bear. "It's okay. I'd rather stay here with...you." She chews the inside of her cheek as soon as she says it, holding her breath as she gauges his reaction.
"That's a relief. I'd rather you be here anyway."
She doesn't understand how he says it so casually when she feels that she might run out of air. She tries to calm herself down, taking deep, long breaths. She could be normal if she tried hard enough. They spend the rest of the night like that, somehow never running out of topics to discuss. He tells her about Jessica. She tells her about her family. It's only as he gets up to get ready for breakfast that she asks him about the magazine in his lap. "What were you reading?"
Now it's his turn to look embarrassed. "Oh, er, I like to keep up with what's happening around town -"
"Is that...a tabloid?" She pulls out one of the magazines sticking out of the pile set to the side and blanches at the headline with a dramatically edited photograph of her. Shame burns the side of her face, and she wishes the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. She had stupidly assumed he hadn't heard of her before meeting her, but why shouldn't he have? The magazines beat her to making a first impression, just like they always have. Just like they always will.
"I can explain."
"No, no, it's fine." Was something wrong with her ears, or did her voice sound a bit too distant? "Lots of people read tabloids. It doesn't mean anything. Anyway, we should get ready for breakfast."
"Y/-"
"Lockwood. I mean it. Drop it." The cut-up look in his eyes is bad enough without an apology. What was he apologising for? For her being such For her being a laughingstock? He bows his head and shuffles out of the library. She stays there, frozen, sitting on the floor, until she hears George rattling about in the kitchen. She walks in, slightly disconcerted by the casual t-shirt Lockwood had changed into. So many of his hard edges and shadows in the the library seemed to soften into a more vulnerable outline that makes her regret snapping at him. She mumbles a greeting and George takes a long look at her. If he notices their matching eye bags, he doesn't comment on it, but while she's making tea, she hears a scuffle behind her and turns to see George standing next to Lockwood with the frying pan alarmingly close to his head.
"Eggs, Y/N?"
Lucy arrives soon after, and begins to spread jam on her toast despite George's aggrieved protests.
"Oh, Y/N, I hope you didn't spend all night on the hard floor. I didn't hear you come up to the attic."
"The attic?"
"Yeah, where the extra bed is." She brandishes her jelly-covered knife vaguely threateningly. "Lockwood told you about it, didn't he?"
The boy in question seems a bit too busy buttering his bread to look up. She mumbles an affirmative, but notices his reluctance to meet her eye for majority of breakfast. Still, she couldn't stay mad at him for long, and it didn't seem awfully polite to, either, not after he opened his home to her.
After breakfast, Lockwood left to scope out a potential client and George headed to the Archives for a bit of light reading, so she and Lucy spend the morning playing board games and watching crappy television while painting their nails. She hadn't felt so alive in months. After a few hours, Lucy suddenly remembers some paperwork she had to complete so while she's busy with that, she wanders around the stairs and hallways, reading every newspaper clipping and looking at every picture, eventually working her way down to the kitchen.
She hears a creak coming from the inside and looks in. Lockwood's returned from his excursion and he shrugs off his jacket, placing it on one of the kitchen chairs as she timidly steps in. He seems just as much at a loss for words as her. She tries to break the ice and, surprisingly, it works.
"Seems a bit full of yourself to litter the halls with your achievements." He gives her a small smile and she revels in the glimmer of success.
"Can't help that I'm especially gifted."
Emboldened, she takes a seat at the table as he pulls out an apple from the fruit bowl and a chopping board.
"Nasty business with the press, isn't it?"
She moodily fiddles with the thinking cloth. "Yeah, well. God forbid a woman be happy."
He looks at her like he's trying to figure her out. The attention makes her fidget nervously. They watch him slice the apple into halves, and then quarters, in silence. "Is that why you're so...highly strung on cases?"
"George tell you to talk to me?"
"Er, yes, but he didn't need to. I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. I have an uncanny ability of putting my foot in it."
"I'd never have guessed." She isn't even being sarcastic. She talks to the apple rather than him. "I hate it. They say all these...awful things about me. Not that I have to tell you." She blinks humourlessly. He sets down the knife.
"Y/N, if you think I believe a word those gossip rags have to say about you, I might be seriously overestimating your intelligence."
She swallows the lump in her throat. It's the nicest thing anyone has said to her in a long while. She never fully acknowledged it because that would mean admitting she cared, that she was weak. But she couldn't help it. She lived life forever looking over her shoulder, so wrapped up in what ifs that she could barely stomach what was, forever worrying that anyone would think it was true. Maybe it was true. Her self-perception contorts and convulses, until she feels strangely formless. But that was the beauty of the moment: hidden away in the dim light of the kitchen, with only Lockwood and God as her witness, she could be anything and everything.
Her hand trembles with repressed emotion. He steadies her by carefully covering it with his own.
And for one beautiful, transcendent moment, she thought she might love him.
She walks home in a pleasant haze, her senses enjoying the reprieve from their constant assault. She ambles by a florist, and she sees a rose. It reminds her of Lockwood. She buys the rose and takes it home, even though she knows she doesn't have a vase for it. Even after a day filled with the most fun she'd had in a while, a restlessness troubles her, making her feel feverish with some invisible affliction. She plucks the translucent petals one by one, holding them up to the setting sun streaming through her windows. She wonders what they would look like in his hair. She winces when one of the thorns break the skin of her thumb. She rubs the smear of blood onto her bottom lip. Looking up at the ceiling, her hair a mess, tangled with the rose petals strewn all over her wrinkled sheets, she realises what it means to be hopelessly and cluelessly lovesick.
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She remembers the first time she cries in front of him. They were on a case at some billionaire's acres-large manor. She ducks under the tape cordoning off the area and freezes, seeing reporters unobtrusively yet steadily setting up their cameras. There had to be some sort of mistake, they're never here this early. Certainly not before they've even started the job. She feels her senses heighten and a faint buzzing teases her ears. She sees Lockwood glance at her and start walking towards her, and she all but flees in the other direction.
She stays a safe distance away from him until the rest of the agents arrive for their briefing. The billionaire's assistant hadn't arrived yet, so they were standing around one of the outdoor picnic tables in the front garden...right in front of the gathering sea of reporters. She tries her best to pay attention but there's a muffled quality to the discussion as she listens for shutter sounds, real or imagined. Her hands grow clammy and her breathing grows jagged as the ominous feeling in her stomach grows. Something very bad was going to happen and it was going to happen soon, she was sure of it.
As if in slow motion, she watches Lockwood reach across to pick up a file from the table beside her on the table, and she feels her panic reach a crescendo as she senses the ripple of excitement in the press. She flinches so badly before he completes the movement that he gets startled, backing away. The question dies on his lips as she walks away, clumsily adjusting her rapier to give her hands something to do. To stop herself from sobbing over the lenses in her peripheral vision.
The press are just as ruthless as they were the last time she made the mistake of not leaving the scene as soon as she had the chance. And still from the chorus of overlapping voices, one made her heart stop dead.
"Y/N L/N, what do you have to say for seducing London's most eligible bachelor?"
She looks around desperately, struggling against waves of despair that threatened to drag her down into the abyss. No one was safe, not even charismatic Lockwood, and it was all her fault for dragging him into her messy life. It wasn’t fair that news agencies chose her life to screw with. She loved him silly with bruised eyes and an aching liver, but she couldn't even look at him properly. She couldn't scrub the image of Lockwood's face from her mind. Hot shame spread from her spine up her neck, an unpleasant prickling sensation. She felt flayed and grotesque, a hundred different kinds of twisted and messed up. Promiscuous on paper, manic in reality, enraptured by what she could never have.
Lockwood finds her sitting on the patchy grass of the backyard, head resting against the wall with suspiciously red eyes. He thinks for a moment before sitting down next to her.
“Hey.”
She’s too busy holding back tears to respond. She despairs internally when she first hears his voice, wishing he didn't care enough about her to follow her. God, they were going to make her pay for this tomorrow. He speaks in a low, soothing voice, but there's an underlying disquiet that comforts her. She'd never have imagined him to feel rattled by the press like she did.
"It all happened so quick, even George didn't realise."
"Doesn't matter. They got what they wanted."
"We'll talk to the assistant as soon as she gets here. We'll refuse to work until they clear out."
She feels an overwhelming amount of relief, not just for his help, but just for him. Sitting here solidly, away from prying eyes, rumours and lies, he felt like a precious secret she wanted to keep. The relief doesn't last long until it gets poisoned into grief. She rasps out an apology.
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"Everything." She feels herself shutting down, unravelling at the seams. But then there's this warmth next to her and a solid, reassuring weight across her shoulders. She shakes with mostly silent sobs, not realising that she's crumpled his shirt from clenching it until later. She sniffles into his shirt like a child, and clings to him with the desperation of a drowning man.
He insists that she sits out for the case, and for once, she listens.
The next time they meet is a little bittersweet. She tells him she's being posted outside of London for a month. It's sobering news, even for him.
"A whole month. Well, it'll go by faster than you realise."
"I hope so."
"How're you feeling?"
"Nervous, I suppose." She was dreading it. She didn't know how she ever worked on a case before Lockwood. At first, she thought it was simply because he took attention from the press off her hands. But there was just something about his presence that made the tension coiled in her body unwind. She tries to keep her tone light, but something must have shown on her face because he sighs and throws an arm over her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd of agents, medics and reporters.
"Don't fret. You'll be fine, trust me. You'll have your teammates with you, Barnes is supervising and you know he can't stand the press, and I've yet to read a headline vicious enough to knock you down for good. You're stronger than you realise, you know." She nods glumly, dragging her feet along. She looks up when he pulls away slightly, frowning at her face. He rubs at the furrow in her brow and she feels her face heat up.
"I said to not fret. You have everything you need." That earns him a weak smile, and though he doesn't look entirely happy with it, he can see George looking around for him. She watches him walk back as he mouths 'one month' to her, trying to smile encouragingly. The sun has started to rise, and the dusk casts a soft purple glow on his hair. She mumbles her response to the wind.
"What if...all I need is you?"
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The month drags by painfully, but it finally ends. She packs her bags and takes the first train to London, just in time to join Lockwood for a case after a bit of begging at Barnes' feet. The job is at another mansion, but somehow even more extravagant and sprawling than the last one. It's bathed in a soft bubblegum pink glow, spilling out into its lawns and hedges and fountains.
She watches him explaining something to one of her colleagues, making some light sketches on the report. He looks exactly the same if a little haggard, yet older somehow, and it tugs at her heart. She had heard that this was supposed to be the last of a particularly tedious string of connected cases, and it had clearly taken a toll on him. Her heart skips a beat at the boyish glow that washes over his features when he sees her.
"...and for the Limbless George was sa- you weren't supposed to be back till Sunday!"
She flushes, beaming excitedly. Part of her wants to hug him, but another part is too scared to, so she contends with her smile.
"We finished early, and I wore Barnes down eventually. Now, what's this about a Limbless?"
The case goes more than smoothly with the extra help of her and her team, and they end up finishing comfortably before midnight, though not without a few minor mishaps. She finds Lockwood with his sleeves and trousers rolled up, dangling his legs in the pool, scrubbing at his hands.
"Wet cement," he grunts as a greeting, looking peevishly at the not-so-clearly cordoned off patch of wet cement. "Ought to have told us. Someone could have gotten properly injured."
"Oh, who'd be silly enough to fall into that?"
"Let me rephrase that: Quill Kipps could have gotten properly injured."
She laughs, turning to add her own handprint next to his in the cement. She smiles coyly as she tenderly scrapes the residue of her palm. He leans in, then stops, sniffing curiously.
"Is that...smoke?"
"Had a bit of an incident with a salt bomb. Someone threw it in the wrong direction."
"Ah."
They're interrupted by a loud whoop from the other end of the pool. A couple of Fittes boys had broken into the liquor cabinet and were now the proud owners of three preciously high-end bottles of champagne. She tried to look at them reprovingly, but couldn't find it in her.
"Oh well. We'll put that down under property damage."
One of her teammates scurried over to clarify a discrepancy in her paperwork, and she leaves to sort it out. By the time she's back, Lockwood's tie is loosened and he's swaying along to some invisible music.
"Y/N! You've got to try some of this stuff, it's grrrreat!"
She shakes her head bemusedly. "Lockwood. How many glasses have you had?"
"Oh, just one." He blinks at the glass in his hand. "One and a half." He drags her in briefly, whispering into her ear. "Besides, what happened to being young?"
Her heart hammers as soon as she feels the tug on her wrist; she's never even touched him in public before. She scans the scene reflexively, but no one seems to have noticed. She supposed getting drunk and making ill-thought-out decisions was the youngest she could be, so she decided to have a little sip.
"Clink?"
"I don't think you're supposed to say it."
He makes a face, clearly more tipsy than he was letting on. "Whatever. I'm saying it."
Still, she humours him, and he looks at her with shameless adoration. Even while well on the way to getting drunk, there was an endearing tilt to his swagger and rosy cheeks that made his youth a delectable luxury. She takes a sip, then another, and then tries to drown herself in champagne, anything to distract her from the way he stole her breath, the fizz electric under her thrumming skin.
They return to where they were sitting earlier, watching some of the more boisterous agents splash into the pool. Someone manages to switch off the harsh floodlights overlooking the pool, washing everyone's outlines with a tangerine glow from the orange neon lights. They talk about their month apart, then catch the eye of the other in a way that makes them both look away, and the cycle repeats.
"I've missed you."
She can't tell which of them says it first, only that the yearning in her voice mirrored his. The look in his eyes scares her yet appeals to her daring all at once. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to.
"We...I...couldn't. It'd go horribly wrong, and you'd hate me, or they'd double down and it'd blow up in your pretty face."
"I'll take my chances." He says it so casually that it stings.
"This isn't exactly bearable for me either, you know."
The background noise fades away, and suddenly speaking at normal volume is too loud. She whispers, as if he might not hear if she's soft enough. "You give me your bed and twist your neck dozing in an armchair. You stick up for me when I'm too weak to stick up for myself. You pull me in when I'm breaking down and hold my fractured pieces together. I can't help but love you." He follows her line of vision to the camera lens peeking through the wall of foliage, not as sneaky as it was trying to be.
"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with me."
He inhales roughly, and she recognises his unsteady breathing.
"Are you...?" Lockwood's voice makes her tear her eyes away from the lens, and focus on his soft brown tired eyes.
"...Might as well. Right?" She tries to hide how badly she needs his acknowledgement. He searches for something in her eyes she's not sure exists. Her heart is in her mouth as he tenderly covers her hand, and suddenly she's sitting at the kitchen table at Portland Row again; unsure and raw and hoping against hope for a love like his. He strokes the back of her hand with him thumb, deep in thought, as if soothing her, or maybe telling her to stop, breathe and think about this horrible decision.
"They'll publish the most horrible things tomorrow."
"I thought that didn't matter."
"Not to me. But it does for you."
"It's worth it. You're worth it."
He closes his eyes, and she watches his eyes shift restlessly behind his eyelids, as if fighting a losing battle. "They'll give you hell for it."
She whispers into his mouth. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't. They're watching either way."
His lips twitch. Her eyes flutter close. She inhales the space between them, their noses softly bumping against each other as they tilt their heads.
Slut.
She leans into him and her lips part as he deepens the kiss. She feels the tangerine neon light burn into the expanse of her exposed skin from her neck to her shoulder.
Slut.
She feels a hand on her lower back as she wraps an arm around his neck, craning her neck upwards. The kiss is equally delicious and bruising, and she feels herself getting drunk on his touch.
Slut.
The pressure on her lips fade and he pulls away, giving her the choice to back out. In the span of a second he shifts from a hazy sunset to the deep aquamarine pool in front of them, and then she's leaning in and devouring him like they could never be close enough.
Slut.
Her mind holds the whisper like a promise.
194 notes · View notes
aliaology · 6 months
Text
GET HIM BACK!
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summary: reader wants to get her ex boyfriend, luke hughes, back in order to get her revenge.
pairings: luke hughes x ex!fem!reader
warnings: jealousy, arguments, mentions of sex
based on ‘get him back’ by olivia rodrigo
THIS IS NOT HOW LUKE HUGHES ACTS. this is just for the plot, i have no idea how he acts outside of hockey and media!
you met luke in the summer of 2021. he was at the michigan lake house, and you were visiting your friends house who lived just next door. the boy accidentally hit a volleyball over to your friends house and from there the two of you blossomed.
though, the relationship was quite toxic, causing you to leave him the next spring, just before you could meet his parents. the two of you argued over everything, him normally starting it.
“are you fucking serious, y/n?” luke groaned, throwing your phone on the bed. you looked confused. “what the fuck did i do?”
“i dont know— maybe snap my fucking brother twenty four-seven?” luke snapped. you rolled your eyes.
“we just send pics to keep a fucking streak going, luke, why is this such a big deal?” you groaned.
“because you’re talking to other guys, what if you’re cheating?”
you scoffed and crossed your arms, “so you don’t trust me?”
not to mention, he had a huge ego, thanks to being the number four pick of the 2021 nhl draft. along with the many, many girls who loved him online. would they love his personality? probably not.
maybe another part of his shitty personality was the wandering eye he had. the way his eyes would drift to look at another girls chest or ass, it was embarrassing.
but, he was fun. fun at parties, fun at sex, fun at it all, and so were his weird friends. you personally favored dylan duke and mark estapa, but no one would find that out.
he took you out to many parties, bars, clubs. and when he said something wrong in front of his friends, he’d buy you something like tickets for a small vacation.
but there are nights where you miss him, until you remember how he would hit on all of your best friends. do you love him or do you hate him? its… up and down.
but right now, you wanted him back. to get him back, to get revenge. he deserved to feel mad, sad and jealous, everything you felt the entire relationship. it should get him back.
so you started to write letters, but after you would just throw them in the trash. all you talked about in the letters was how much you missed his touch and kiss, and how making you laugh was a bonus.
then when you tried texting him, you didn’t have the balls to say anything because you knew how disappointed your friends would be.
he was toxic, and you were not the only girl. you remember the time where you decided to try communicating your feelings.
“baby, can we talk?” you asked, walking behind him, he sat on the couch, eyes fixated on his game.
“what?” he spoke, fingers ferociously clicking his controller.
“recently, the way you’ve been just doesn’t feel fair, luke. i’ve been putting my all into us and i dont get the same treatment back, it hurts.”
luke scoffed, “you’re trippin’ babe”
but maybe you could fix him? scratch that. maybe you could key his car? or break his heart? or punch him?
then again, you could fix him.. with the nice route. instead of breaking his heart, you stitch it right back up. or kiss him. or make him lunch.
how about you meet his mom? but instead of telling her how good he was, you tell her how much her son fucking sucks.
you did. you met up with her— on complete accident. according to her, luke had not told anyone you broke up with him. he made up a fake excuse saying your family needed you for the summer.
you almost laughed in her face.
you almost laughed after she stormed out of the cafe, learning how her you her son was a prick. and you definitely laughed when you got the text from jack telling you how much shit, luke got.
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time to work on coach part two xx
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tinyglassearl · 1 year
Text
Au where everyone thought Mycroft and Albert were banging when they were actually not. Poor Albert would  constantly get slut-shamed when he’s still a full blown virgin. 
Everyday would basically be: 
Albert, who was up all night searching through old files for a MI6 mission: God, my knees are killing me. 
Moran: Yeah I bet your throat is too. Slut.
Albert: ?
...........................
Albert: This is the last time I am EVER riding a horse. 
Moneypenny: That’s not a very nice name to call the Director. 
Albert: ???
.......................
Albert, who’s covered in mosquito bites after a field mission: No tea for me. I’m not very thirsty. 
Jack: Sure you aren’t. I sincerely hope he used protection. 
Albert, remembering Mycroft forgot the bug repellant: Um. We forgot?
Jack:
Jack: Dear God. 
.......................
Albert, covered in bruises because he tried and failed miserably at a surprise attack on Mycroft: Ow. OW! That bastard... he didn’t have to be so rough on me. 
Louis:
Louis: I am going to kill him.
......................
Bonus! 3 years later at the reunion dinner. 
Albert:.... to be fair, it wasn’t too lonely. Mycroft kept me busy through his lovely letters. :D
William: That sounds wonderful, brother!
William, internally: *Lord Almighty, they had sex in prison*
....................
And later when Mycroft and Albert finally got together, everyone would be like “We KNOW”, “Like it wasn’t obvious”
confusing the hell out of Mycal as they only just banged 2 hrs ago.
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sitp-recs · 1 month
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that little forced marriage drabble from tacky has me thirtsty, do you have any recs for forced dating / forced marriage? 🩵
Right?? I am salivating over that wip, come answer for your crimes @tackytigerfic! I do, in fact, have a few recs for that trope (not enough! would love to find more because That Old Black Magic made me feral for it). I hope you enjoy these, please note that not all of them are enemies to lovers:
Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (E, 15k)
Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…
The Marriage Contract series by @fluxweeed (E, 15k)
In what universe is it fair that marrying Draco Malfoy is the only way for Harry to get his magic back?
The Matchmaker's Spell by @kbrick (E, 21k)
Thanks to a spell cast over all of wizarding Britain, Draco is forced to marry Harry Potter, who still hates him. But Draco refuses to live a cold, sexless existence, choosing to fill the emptiness in his life and his bed with a parade of lovers. And while Harry may not be able to stand Draco, he despises seeing him with anyone else.
The Only Magic Left Between Us by @lqtraintracks (E, 24k)
Harry goes to the market and ends up having to save Draco Malfoy’s life with sex. He saves Draco’s life with sex and ends up with a husband. The last thing he expects in all of it is to fall in love.
You'll Still Find Stone by flightinflame (M, 42k)
Draco had to marry Potter to stay out of Azkaban. Narcissa told him he’d be safer there. But he doesn’t know what Potter expects from him - this marriage is nothing like he had been prepared for. Potter’s acting kindly, and he knows it’s all a trick. He’s just about coping, but trying to keep Potter happy becomes more important than ever when he realises he’s carrying the man’s child.
what husbands are for by @softlystarstruck (E, 52k)
To settle tensions between werewolves and vampires, Harry volunteers for a political marriage. But it turns out he's marrying Malfoy– cold, untouchable Malfoy, who he hasn't seen in ten years. Throughout contention and politics, werewolf pub nights and grudgingly shared meals, they have to make it work.
That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1 (E, 77k)
Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he'd thought would be easy after the war... with Draco Malfoy.
Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)
When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.
Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)
Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.
The Marriage of True Minds by Lomonaaeren (E, 204k)
Lucius curses Harry and Draco into a forced marriage. They're only required to live together, not be together, and so they try to date other people. But over time, things change.
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