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#she very well could’ve been having a bad day and this was a tipping point but at the same time it remains a minuscule thing to be upset with
favroitecrime · 3 months
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not much to say here just that the juxtaposition of having the privilege to complain about doordash vs… yeah.
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leossmoonn · 6 months
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Welcome back, Sara!!! For a fluffy Mike idea, maybe just a cozy rainy day spent at home with Mike and Abby? Like watching movies with cups of hot cocoa under a mountain of blankets, and all that jazz
Hi Logan ☺️☺️☺️ thanks for sending this in. I’m always afraid of writing fluff fics bc like everyone wants the smut, but it’s reassuring to have this put in lol
it’s a sunday and mike just so happens to have the day off. he’s been working long and hard hours and you convinced him to take the day off. you and abby are so excited; you two planned the whole day from the moment you woke up to the time it was time for abby to sleep. unfortunately, it’s rainy and a sudden wind chill swept through. none of you need to get sick and mike didn’t want to make making abby carry an umbrella, so you make the quick decision to stay in. abby’s a little disappointed, but you try to make up for it.
the first thing you and mike do in the morning is make a fort with abby. and not just a little four corners fort. no, she makes you cover the entire living room with blankets. even the tv was included! you and mike are dragged into some play-pretend games. for a lot of them mike’s forced to play some sort of villan.
“why can’t i play the hero, abby?” mike frowns. “because that’s her job!” abby points to you.
mike gives you a look and you shrug. “abby’s the director here. cant fight with the boss.”
mike rolls his eyes, wanting to get out of the humid blankets and sleep, but he knows how happy this makes abby. and even though abby is making him play the bad guy, he knows she means it out of love and he also loves getting to spend as much time with abby as he can. watching you act is pretty cute as well.
once abby gets bored of playing in her fort — which is like 3 hours later — she decides she wants to watch a movie.
“let’s clean up first, yeah?” mike suggests. “no! let’s keep the fort up to watch the movie!” abby says.
“abby, no. we had our fun with the fort. it’s time to turn the house back to normal,” mike says. “please say we can keep the fort up!” abby pouts as she looks up at you.
mike gives you a warning look, but you can’t say no to abby. “let’s just keep the fort up for the movie, yeah?”
abby squeals and wiggles back into the fort. mike glares at you. “she’s never going to want to take it down.”
“she will when it’s time for bed, which is hours away.” you step closer to him, gently putting your hand on his shoulder. “how about i pop some popcorn — the real stuff on the stove — and i make us some hot coca, okay?”
well, who was mike to turn down stove-popped popcorn and hot cocoa. he felt like a little kid again. it doesn’t help that you and abby’s pouty faces were ganging up on him. he sighs in defeat and nods, crossing his arms around his chest.
“fine, but after the movie, we will clean all this up, okay?”
“of course,” you nod. you turn to abby who is lit up with excitement. “can i pick the movie?”
“yep! do you want any popcorn?” you ask her. “yes. can you put m&ms in mine?” she asks. “you got it, babe,” you answer.
you three settle in the fort, abby laying on her stomach right in front of the tv. she chose “Lady and The Tramp”, which was one of her more enjoyable movie choices.
“mike, you’re kind of like the tramp,” abby comments, popping a handful of popcorn and m&ms into her mouth.
you begin to laugh but cover it up with a cough when mike shoots you a glare. “abby, that’s not very nice.”
“he knows it’s true,” she says, kicking her feet up and dangling them in the air. “And you’re like Lady.”
you glance at mike, a small smile on your face. you lean into him, your nose brushing against the scruff on his cheek. “i think what she’s trying to say is that we are perfect for each other.”
the tips of his ears turn pink. he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in so your head rests on his shoulder. “she could’ve said it differently, though.”
you giggle, “nah, i think it’s accurate.” he rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the smile on his face and twinkle in his eye.
mike ends up falling asleep towards the end of the movie. his head rests on your chest, both arms around your waist to hold you close. your hands are in his hair, massaging his scalp while the credits roll.
“why is he so tired all the time?” abby pouts. “he works a lot,” you say. “but i’m sure he’ll wake up soon. why don’t you help me clean the fort up?”
“do i have to?” abby frowns. ���i think mike would appreciate that,” you say.
“ugh, fine. but only if we can have pancakes for dinner.”
you grin and nod, “you got it.”
mike wakes up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. he twists and turns on the floor, the sizzle of bacon him bringing him into consciousness. he begins to open his eyes, his back beginning to ache from sleeping on the floor. he hears some giggling coming from the kitchen, sitting himself up on his elbow and peering over the couch. you’re at the stove, a spatula in your hand. abby’s sitting at the table, crayons littering the wood.
“look who’s up!” you exclaim. mike groans softly as he sits up, using the couch as a crutch to stand up. “i’m sorry i fell asleep. between the rain and the pillows —”
“shush,” you cut him off. he walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his fingers tracing sliver of skin on the small of your back that’s exposed. “i ruined our day.”
“no, you didn’t. right, abs?” you turn to her. “you did snore a lot, but you didn’t,” she says. you smile at mike, “see? all is well.”
“smells good.” he mumbles as he wraps both arms around your waist, placing his chin onto your shoulder.
“me or the food?” you glance at him with a teasing smile. he takes a not-so-nonchalant inhale of your skin. “both,” he answers.
“ew!” abby grimaces behind you two. you and mike both laugh and he presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. he brings some plates and silverware out, sitting across from abby and waiting for the food.
mike stares as you two discuss abby’s drawing. he can’t wipe the smiles off of his face. his life was never perfect and he knew it was never going to be, but if he could just keep this — keep you two — he would then be able to call it perfect.
“mike,” abby says with a little pout. “what’s up?” he asks.
“do you have to go back to work tomorrow?” she asks. “i do, but you also have to go back to school,” he states.
“i don’t want to,” she says. mike sighs, the calmness from his body fleeting. “you don’t have a choice, abby. i’m sorry.”
“i… i just mean… i want this day to last forever.”
his eyes widen and glance up at you. you’re rubbing her back soothingly, giving him an encouraging smile.
“maybe we can do something special for dinner again tomorrow,” you suggest. “we can watch a movie and even eat dinner on the couch.”
abby’s face lights up and she nods. “okay! can i pick the movie again?”
“only if you don’t compare me to a dog again,” mike says. abby giggles and puts a forkful of pancakes in her mouth before speaking again. “we’ll see,” she quips.
mike looks back at you, placing his hand inside of yours on the table. your feet slides up his calf, your eyes soft as you look over his face. his heart warms and for the first time in a while, he feels at peace.
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sevsdollette · 9 months
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Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/124546213#workskin
content warning: still smut. (MDNI) they’re at the brothel this time. fingering, edging, strap on. bondage and like dub con, i guess? obviously reader is into it but Sevika just kinda does what she wants with her to teach her a lesson. brat taming.
summary: It seems like she’s not a customer anymore. Your night could’ve been peaceful, and surely your coworkers would be jealous of you taking their business.
chapters:
1. Relaxing Night
2. A Long Night at Work
note: this one’s fun. tell me why i cared enough about zaun currency to read a reddit post to learn about it. probably still got it wrong too bc i skimmed :/ still in love with her and trying to include more backstory. the reader is like very much based on my arcane oc because why not? it’s my writing i do what i want. also i just really like that story so i want to put it out there. anyway, this one is like just all smut. not much fluff, sorry, but the next one will have plenty of playful banter. hope you like :) (proofread? never heard of her)
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—————— 18+ ——————
Life at Babette’s wasn’t nearly as bad as some could picture it. The job itself already gave you a place to sleep—a roof over your head. You were at a point where you were worth enough that only tolerable customers came through. Sure, you had your share of creeps, but most were clean and civilized.
Babette was like your family at this point. You’d been working for her since you turned 18. She had been promising you a job for years before that but wouldn’t allow it until you were old enough. The enforcers would take one look at a minor in her house and arrest her, even if you weren’t working. The day you turned 18, you got off the street.
The worst part was the enforcers. They would raid the place, looking for any drop of shimmer or illegal coins. Some were just trying to do their job. Others would pin you to the ground and cuff you if you blinked at one of them wrong. They’d have their fun teasing you, trashing your room “searching” for illegal activity, before spitting on you and leaving with nothing.
In another life, you were a fighter. In that life, you’d had your fair share of enforcer blood on your hands.
But in this one, you were already too beaten down to care.
Piltover had taken everything from you, much like it did to everyone else. You were one of the only workers that didn’t accept Topside clients. They could go fuck themselves; they didn’t need your help.
That was part of the reason fucking Sevika gratified you so much. It made you feel like you were really pissing off the enforcers, screwing the crime ring’s best fighter. You were helping her grow her forearm strength that night.
You hadn’t run into her since that night. It had been about a week and you’d been lying low. You never knew with those sorts of situations. People could always have ulterior motives. Besides, the lesser known brothel down the road had been raided a couple days ago and you were preparing for the day they came to you.
Sevika surely intrigued you. Given the chance, you would fuck her again, but you knew the likelihood of that. She was too important to hook up with the same person twice. She had every woman in the undercity at her disposal. You were just a whore.
The night was still young as you sat up after your last client. They were an excited couple that was much too interested in having a third.
Some of the party left a little disappointed.
In the end, the husband was just watching you take care of his wife. The idea made you chuckle even now.
On your bedside table was your payment. Five silver and two bronze. They didn’t tip well.
Your room at Babette’s was one of the largest there. Lavish curtains hung from the ceiling like it was a deep purple and black circus tent. Silver beading and faux gems hung around the banisters of your canopy bed. The lighting came from low lamps and dripping candles scattered around the room.
The bed, of course, was the centerpiece. It was even on a raised platform compared to the rest of the room. It was a large king with the softest silk a Zaunite could ever touch. There were secret hooks and straps hidden on the sides for easy access, and the bedside tables were packed full of toys.
Other than the bed, There was a small lounge sofa, a mirror, a long plush rug, and a swing. There were other small pieces of furniture around like cushion chairs and little tables, but nothing to be paid attention to.
You got used to your feet and walked down to the other half of the room. You approached the mirror, checking if they left any marks and if they messed up your makeup too badly.
Everything seemed good, and you checked the rest of you. You were wearing a tight black velvet corset with a straight neckline that pressed your chest up. It was part of an underwear set that connected to garters and thigh-high stockings. Your heels had been tossed somewhere around the room, and you didn’t care to find them.
On the coffee table beside the sofa was your mask, which you promptly slid back on. It was simple black and covered down to the tip of your nose. Thin silver laced the edges.
You fell onto the couch, lying across it like a luxurious woman and not an undercity whore. You had the glamor of a woman from Piltover but not the reputation.
You closed your eyes, taking this brief moment of silence. Of course, you could hear the distant sounds that came along with the job. Erotic noises came from nearly every room around, but they blended in after so many years of being there. Someone was always laughing, screaming, moaning, and weeping.
A moment later you rang a bell for the interns to come in and change your bedsheets. They did so quickly and left without saying a word. You were glad. They were a bitchy bunch trying to take your job. All because they thought they were hotter, prettier, or more skilled.
They weren’t.
Out in the hall you heard someone approaching in clicking heels. The curtains to your room slid open, and your coworker Zanira poked her head inside. Her eyes were wide, and she looked around for you somewhat frantically. “Babe, you’ve got a customer coming.”
“Okay.” Your brow furrowed at her. Usually there wasn’t an odd warning before a customer. They just walked on in. You blinked at Zanira. “Let them through?” You didn’t know how to respond in such a random interaction.
Zanira pursed her lips, obviously wanting to say something, but she just nodded and closed the curtain. Her heels clicked as she walked away, and heavy footsteps replaced hers. They were getting louder.
The curtains rustled, being pushed open for the large frame that entered.
A sly smile spread on your face as you watched her look around for you. When her dark, gray eyes met yours, you cooed, “Come back for more?”
When you heard her footsteps you assumed it was some ghastly man coming through for a quick fuck. This was a pleasant surprise. Though, whatever state she left you in would surely impact how the rest of your workday went.
Sevika pulled the curtains closed and clipped them shut. You followed every movement of hers, focusing on how her fingers flexed as she tied the curtains shut. “I heard you’re an expensive one,” she said, eyes sliding back over to meet yours.
You nodded proudly. “It takes a golden hex to get me to do anything.” It took you years to earn your reputation.
“Hm.” She looked over all your furniture, analyzing what the two of you had at your disposal. “What’ll you do for three?”
You smiled mockingly, cooing, “Fall in love with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then I’m glad I only have two.”
You scoffed. You didn’t need her attitude if that’s all she was here to give. “What brings you here? My girl looked a little alarmed when she saw you coming through.”
Her brow creased and she turned fully to face your side of the room. “Am I not allowed to be here? I come all the time.”
“Yes, but you usually stay with the more… docile of our servers.”
She liked submissives. You’d heard their cries every now and then when you knew she was around. When you would speak to them and they’d mention her, they’d whisper with blush in their cheeks and a prudishness to their words.
You were no such doe.
“Come here and I'll show you why.”
You cocked one eyebrow. “I’m not moving until I see money.”
For just a moment, her strong demeanor faltered. Did she really expect you to crack like that? It was almost cute. She was disappointed. You weren’t like the easy sluts down the hall that listened to her every beck and call.
“What?” You pulled yourself up by the back of the sofa. You now sat across it like a model. It was enchanting and you knew it. “You think just because we hooked up at a bar that you don’t have to pay me?”
That was an off-the-clock fuck for fun. For actual pleasure. If she found you while you were in this room, she had to pay you. There was no premium pass just because of what happened in the back room of the Last Drop.
Though, you wanted her. Half of your brain said “so what? Whatever will happen will be worth much more than whatever she’ll pay you”. The way she stared down at you made you hot. She was there for one reason, and, hell, you wanted to make sure she got what she came for.
“You weren’t asking for payment the other night. Say, by the way you looked I doubt you even remembered what a hex looked like at the time.”
Images of what the two of you had done came flooding back (as if they ever left), and you pressed your thighs together slightly.
Still, curtly, you asked, “Is that so?” You faked a pout. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Your vulnerability is showing, Sevika. Don’t be so desperate, now.”
Her face hardened into stone, and she looked down at you with stern eyes. You would be lying if you didn’t say it excited you. This little game the two of you played was pure entertainment.
She stalked over to you and stopped when she stood above you. You stayed lying back, acting as cool as could be. She leaned down, placing one finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet her eyes. She didn’t smile as she said, “You’re real cute when you act like you’re in charge.” She pointed across the room. “In bed. Now.”
A shallow breath fell from your lips and, yeah, just like she said, you couldn’t even remember what money was. You wanted her again—you needed her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Fuck, you’d make up the money some other way.
You stood up, slipping past her as she ran her hand down your back and watched you go. Her gaze was like glue to your backside, you could tell.
“And get rid of that fucking mask.”
You threw it to the floor.
You crawled into your bed, pushing the covers back and sitting up by the pillows. Across the room, Sevika walked over slowly, pretending to be interested in everything else in the room but you.
When she reached the bed, She stood at one of the banisters, leaning against it and crossing her arms.
“What’s wrong?” You cocked your head to the side. “Water too cold for you?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.” She gestured to all of you. “I want you to touch yourself.”
Her tone had you wishing you would listen to her. She did something to you no other fuck did. Just the way she raked her eyes down your body made you shiver. But you couldn’t let her know that.
“Why should I do that?”
“Because I’m not doing anything to you until you do, and if you don’t start listening to me when I tell you the first time, we’re going to have some problems.”
“Then I guess we have problems.” You stuck your bottom lip out, mocking her.
She sighed, raking her hand through her hair. She looked back down at you. “Come here.”
You crawled forward, stopping at the edge of the bed where she was and getting up on your knees to meet her eye level.
“Oh, but you’ll listen to me now?”
You smiled. “I choose what I want to do.”
“Yeah, alright.” She wrapped her hand around your throat. “I thought you learned your lesson last time. Now, I’m losing faith in you.”
She squeezed just tight enough to have you dizzy. You grasped her forearm, leveling yourself and she held you up just slightly. Excitement riddled your body and you felt yourself getting wet. You wondered how much longer until you broke.
“And, gods, you’re gonna have to stop talking,” she growled, getting close enough to your face that you could smell her.
“But—“
She pressed a metal finger to your lips. “No.”
You swallowed a boulder. Her grip on your neck was starting to have you see stars. It was heavenly. She leaned in, but flinched back when you tried to do the same. She held an ironic, menacing grin as she held you still and kissed you.
It felt like a wash of relief. As much as you were playing to cool, you wanted her so badly. Your panties were ruined and soon you would be too. The heat in your core was nearly unbearable.
Her hand squeezed just the slightest bit tighter around your throat and she had you gasping. You clawed at her forearm and she continued to kiss you, sliding her tongue beside yours. Instead of letting you win, she took one of your frantic hands and brought it down to your underwear, encouraging you.
The room was rocking and spinning around you. Sevika kept you wrapped in her kiss as your shaky hand slipped into your underwear and you dragged one finger through your folds.
A strangled moan ruptured your kiss. Sevika moved to kiss your cheek, jaw, and then your neck as your fingers began to circle your clit. The feelings together were the perfect mix, and you felt yourself relaxing into her touch. Despite this being only your second time together, she knew exactly where to drag her teeth to have you moaning into her ear.
She took her hand from your throat, caressing it down your body as her metal arm kept you firm in her grasp. You needed it. You kept a slow, torturous pace on yourself and it was starting to make you weak. You’d finish soon if you weren’t careful.
Sevika kissed down your neck and across your collar. Her arm hooked around your waist and reached for the laces of your corset. “How do I get this off of you?”
You could hardly think with your hand still massaging your clit. With your free hand, you reached behind yourself and felt around for the right tie.
She was impatient, taking her sharp metal finger and slicing through every row of laces.
“Sev!”
The corset fell off your front and she pushed it out from between the two of you. She stared down at your breast, taking one in her hand as she muttered, “I’ll get you a new one.” She rolled your nipple between her fingers, having you sigh. “Now, shut up.”
“You can’t make me—“
Her lips caught you in another kiss and she led you to lie down on your back. She moved you so the two of you were lying properly in the bed.
You could feel your orgasm coming. You rubbed your clit faster as she seemed distracted with your breast. She dragged her lips down your body and took one of your nipples in her mouth. She ran her teeth over the sensitive skin, sucking it into her mouth. The sensations of all your pleasures made you feel electrified and you could stop from moaning her name.
You were expecting a boring night. But this was anything but that. her figure over yours was enough alone to send you over the edge. Just to know that you were in her arms, being ordered around by her, being punished by her, was maddening. You felt dizzy even without her hand around your throat.
Just as you thought you were going to cum, she pulled your hand out of your panties.
“But…” Your eyes got lost in hers.
“You really don’t stop talking,” she grumbled. You watched as she leaned over and pulled one of the drawers of your nightstand open. Excitement fluttered in your stomach as you wondered what she was grabbing.
She came back with a cloth tie. She sat back between your legs, holding it up menacingly. “Maybe this’ll help you shut up.”
Before you could protest, she was wrapping it around your head and tying it tight enough that you couldn’t speak. The gag pressed into your mouth and you bit down on it with as much attitude as you could, glaring back at her.
“There,” she smiled. “So much prettier when you’re quiet.”
You spit curse at her through the cloth, only becoming more irritated as she nodded along mockingly. As if she could understand every gargled word. Her grin only widened with every nasty word.
Her coarse hands ran over your ribs, reaching around you to flip you over on your stomach. “Stay there.”
And before you could jerk your hands up to move or untie the cloth, she had your wrists pinned behind your back. They fit between the grasp of her calloused palm snugly and she held you still.
She was reaching over again, grabbing another tie to keep your wrists together. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you were more obedient.”
You lay there, completely at her disposal, as she picked up your hips and moved them where she wanted. You were on your knees, shoulders and face pressed into your sheets, and growing wetter by the second. Your clit still pulsed from your fingers, and you needed her to touch you.
Everything she did to you was different and electrifying. Hundreds of people came to visit you but none knew how to touch you like she did.
You turned your head to one side, craning your neck to see her behind you. She was pulling her shirt off and then her bra. It was an entrancing sight, watching the muscles in her shoulders and neck move to pull the clothes over her head. Her brow was tense with focus as she dropped her things off the side of the bed.
You looked at her bare figure, nearly moaning just at the sight of her. You needed to see her pants come off too, but she was done, looking back at you with a hooded stare. She was devouring you with her eyes. it sent a shiver up your spine.
She leaned over you, pressing her chest against your back as she pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. Her breath was hot against your bare neck, and the sound of her breathing so close to your ear made your core drip. She groaned as you pushed your ass up against her hips, her teeth biting down on the back of your shoulder.
Her hands ran down the sides of your torso, dragging her fingertips over your skin to make you shiver. Her hands rubbed the underside of your breasts, massaging your soft mounds.
She cupped your breast in her hands, pressing them against her palms as she pinched your nippled between her fingers. A sigh fell from you as you continued to grind your hips back against hers.
One hand moved down your front, toying with the edge of your panties as she bullied your nipple until it was sure to bruise.
“You don’t need these, do you?” She asked.
Before you could even try to respond, she was ripping through the fabric and pulling it off you. She discarded the tatters before slipping her hand back down and diving into your sensitive folds.
“Mm,” she hummed, collecting your slick on her fingers. “So fucking wet, and I was starting to worry you didn’t like me.”
The tips of her fingers began to push into your entrance, causing you to relax into the mattress as a moan slipped past your clenched teeth. Her two fingers curled inside of you, her palm rubbing your clit as she set a slow and burning pace.
The cool metal of her arm slid around your hip, guiding you to ride her fingers. She forced you to comply with her slow pace though you wanted to rest your finish so badly. With every curl of her fingers, she pressed hard against your most sensitive spot. Your soft walls tensed around her hand, dripping down her knuckles as she left a hickey on your upper back, right where your muscle met your neck.
It was hot and painfully slow how you rutted against her hand. A slow moan slipped from you as she tugged at your sore nipple once more. She rolled it in her fingertips, massaging your soft tissue as she rubbed your clot against the bone of her palm.
“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” she groaned. “Can’t believe I’m fucking a whore like you.”
A blush spread across your face as you whined, grinding your hips faster to try and get her to speed up. You cried her name with a demand to get her to do what you wanted, but it only came out as a string of muffled grumbles.
“What was that?” Her voice was laced with teasing pleasure. It was dripping with amusement. She pulled her fingers out a bit just to shove them back in harshly, having you suck in a hard breath. “You’ve got something in your mouth, babe. I can’t understand you.” She said it so plainly it was like you didn’t already know. Like you were just that fucking stupid.
She seemed to be taking pity on you, ravishing in the way you squirmed when she went faster. Her assault was unwavering as the pleasure spread throughout your body.
Heat shot to your head as you felt your orgasm coming. Your body was frantic, trying to grind and ride her hand just the way you needed to finish. Stray curses and moan were muted by the gag. The cloth was now soaked with your spit and drying out your tongue.
“What’s that?” She taunted, “You’re close, aren’t you?” Her gravelly voice right by your ear. You nodded quickly, face rubbing against the mattress as your eyes snapped open to look at her. The hair was falling out of her ponytail and curling over her forehead as she hovered behind you, close to your neck.
The constant rubbing of her fingers inside of you had you hardly hearing her. The room was filled with your strangled, muffled moans as all you could focus on was chasing your finish.
As quickly as you felt the orgasm coming, she pulled her fingers out of your soaked cunt. The sudden loss of sensation had you twisting under her, hard and angered words spat through the gag as you flared back at her.
“Hey—hey!” She gripped you by the hair on the back of your neck, tugging your face up to look her in her eyes. “Don’t be suck a fucking brat. You’ll get what you want, be patient.”
Your hair slipped through her fingers as she dropped your head back down onto the mattress. Your face smushed into the sheet as your lower half went cold. She moved off of you, once again reaching into your nightstand to find something else.
Your eyes widened as she pulled out a strap that was bigger than one that had ever been inside of you. That one was only for you to use on other people. You didn’t think it could fit in you.
Her name was butchered through the gag as you tried to get her attention. She was too busy pulling the harness over her hips to care about your worries.
Her pants had already been dropped to the floor, and you fought your hardest to break your wrists from the tie she’s put them in. You wanted to feel the strong hacks of her thighs. Her plain black underwear was low on her hips, revealing how far her deep purple scars went down her body.
“Sev…”
Her eyes flicked up to you. Her face was shadowed with lust. Even if you could tell her that would be too much, she wouldn’t listen. You could still see your juices on her two fingers as she walked back over to the bed, crawling behind you.
“I know,” she assured, rubbing your ass and hip. “You’ll be okay, baby. I know you can take it. You talk a lot of shit, but I see right through you. You like it when I treat you like this.”
Your fingers clenched as you tried to pull your wrists free. She only took it as an opportunity to reach down and kiss your knuckles gently. As if she was trying to be chivalrous and sweet.
A final snarky remark was spat into the gag, and this one was louder than the last. A sharp sting spread across your ass as she spanked you. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
Your eyes squeezed shut as she smacked you again, the pain tingling under your skin. It lingered as she adjusted behind you and began to rub her cock through your soaked folds.
The cold silicone made you shiver and whine into the mattress. She eased you into the feeling, but soon enough she was pressing the tip against your entrance. So covered in your slick, the tip pushed into your puffy pussy with more ease than you expected, but soon the stretch became painful.
A sharp cry broke through the gag as she continued to abuse your cunt. Every time you thought all of it was in you, she pushed just one inch more. Finally, the base of her cocker your entrance and you whimpered at the fullness. There was no more you could’ve fit if she tried. Your walls clenched around her and you pushed your hips into her to convince her to move.
Perhaps her teasing was over because she complied, pulling out and rocking back into you. She found a rhythm that you could keep up with, your thighs shaking and tensing as she thrust you again and again.
The tie around your wrists was beginning to strain the muscle in your shoulders and wrists. Your head pressed to the side made your neck crane and cramp as you were pushed harder into your bed. So fucked out, the pain was hardly noticed compared to the coursing, heated pleasure thy she sent through your core, all the way into your lower belly.
You would’ve stayed there forever. The bed creaked with every thrust of her hips, hitting against the wall as she muttered a mix of cruel and sweet saying to you to coax you along.
At some moment, she moved behind you slightly and slowed her pace. Your worries grew and you thought she was denying you your finish again, but she soon began her cruel humping again.
“Here, sweetheart,” she cooed, leaning down so you could see her. In her hand were her two hexes. “Take it.”
You glared up at her, wrists writhing in their tie.
“Come on,” she urged, holding her hand closer to your face so you could really see the money she was going to give you. “You can’t have it unless you take it from me.”
She jerked her hips into you harder, making the strap shove further into your cunt. She had you groaning, face smushed further into your pillow.
Through the bag came a muffled “fuck you”, and she frowned at you pitifully. She shrugged, moving out of your gaze and dropping the coins somewhere on her clothes.
She thrust roughly into you again. “I think you should just give up on this bratty act. I like you a lot more when you’re broken and fucked out underneath me.”
Sure, she was talking to you, but you weren’t listening. One of her hands had snaked down to your front and was rubbing tight circles around your clit. Together, her stimulation and rutting was quickly driving you to your finish.
If you could talk, you would beg. The pleasure was too overwhelming for you to come up with any bite. You needed to cum. You needed her to take you there.
Your peak was approaching fast. and she could tell from the way your hips pushed back into her more sloppily than before. It was a frantic attempt to finish before she could stop you.
“Come on, baby girl, you can cum.”
That was all you needed, her deep voice pushing you over the she as you keened, going limp into the bed as your orgasm shot through you. It came in heated waves that had you crying for her.
She was kind and slowed with your finish. The ribbed sides of the dildo beginning to burn as she slowly pushed in once more time. Then, she pulled out, rubbing the muscle in your shoulder as she sighed.
Her hand slipped up to undo the gag at the back of your head. Your limp body had her pulling the cloth out from under the other side of your head as you spat it out of your mouth.
A thick breath heaved from your lungs as you licked your dry lips. “Give me a break.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
Your nose wrinkled. With the nastiest, most disrespectful tone you could, you spat out a “please”.
She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Okay, baby, I’ll give you a break while I untie you.”
“What if I run?” You hissed. She loosened the tie around your wrists, and you immediately pulled your hands free, rolling your wrists as you pushed yourself up onto shaky arms.
“You couldn’t even if you tried,” she said, helping you roll over onto your back.
You stared up at her, the hair sticking to her forehead, her chest rising with her heavy breaths, and the imprint of a wet spot on her underwear. The sheen on her broad shoulders and biceps was entrancing as you were lost in the sight of her as she leaned down to kiss you softly.
Her hot tongue slipped against yours as you whined against her lips, cradling her face in your hands. She rubbed her palms down your hips, adjusting your legs and spreading your thighs as she brushed the sticky strap against your core again.
A weak sigh slid between your mouths as you braced yourself to take her again. You were sore, but as the dildo rubbed against your clit, you were alight with arousal once more.
She frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m not done ruining you, sweetheart. I want to see you cry on my cock.”
She sunk deep back into you, having you a heaving mess under her. “Now,” she began. “Do you think you can stay quiet without this?” She held up the gag, looking down at you with an expectant gaze.
You let out a heavy breath. As it fell out of you, you realized she’d won. You were too tired and fucked out to bite back. All you wanted now was for her to take care of you. You’d do anything to keep her here with you.
“Good girl.” She rubbed her thumb across your cheek. “See? You can behave.”
She pulled out just enough to ram back in. Your mind was lost in the heat of her. You were ready to beg if need be. You just couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of her fucking into you.
Your hands, still sore from the tie, pressed against her collar and chest. Her skin was softer than expected, and slick with her sweat. You reached between your bodies and cupped her soft breast, massaging it gently. She moaned into your skin, rutting into you so the strap stimulated her clit just as much as she pleasured you.
You were so full, her cock so thick as she rubbed the ribbed sides against your abused walls. You wrapped your legs around her, pulling her closer as you ran your hands through her hair.
Her lips met yours in another heated, hungry kiss. She was nearly desperate, spit mixing with yours as she thrust harder and you whined against her mouth. Her teeth nipped at your bottom lip. She rested on one elbow, hand threading through your hair as her metal fingers gripped your thigh to keep you tight against her.
She wasn’t focused on your pleasure, humping against you just so she could feel the strap rub against her clit and get her off. She used you as a fucktoy to reach her climax, being ceaseless in her own pace.
The idea of it made you feel close regardless. The fact that you were her’s and she used you however she wanted had warmth spreading through your core and sparking to your clit.
Your eyes began to sting as tears built at the edges. It was a flood of sensations that had you moaning and crying out as she kissed you again.
“You’re okay, sweet girl. You look so beautiful right now.”
She bit down on your neck so hard you were worried she’d draw blood. Your makeup was running down your face as tears collected in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. You tugged at her hair, having her moan against your skin.
You met her hips, trying to persuade her rhythm to please you, but she only pushed your hips down harder. “Stay still, baby, I’m close,” she groaned. Her incessant thrust only hurt, smacking against your cervix as she chased her high.
Another wave of arousal rolled through your body as her chest pressed against yours, her nipples pressed into your skin and breasts. It didn’t take much longer before she became a mess above you, moaning loudly in your ear as she jumped her cock into you quickly to satisfy her finish.
Stray whispers of praise fell from her lips as she continued to thrust into you, wanting to see you cum and you were close. Shivers shot down your spine as she dragged her lips across your jaw, and your orgasm came on suddenly, having you shake and your vision go white. You screamed, nails digging into her shoulder as your pleasure overtook you.
She hushed you, hand rubbing your hip to coax you down from your high. Heavy breath heaved through your chest as you lay there, hot and thoroughly fucked as she helped you come back to her. Your eyes cracked back open, finding her looking down at you gently with a slight crease in her brow.
“You there, doll?”
You smiled, nodding as she rubbed her thumb across your bottom lip. Sharp exhales still shot through you as you relaxed against the bed and in her arms.
She pulled out slowly, easing out as you but your lip from the sensation. You watched as she took the harness off. She came back with a cloth and wiped the insides of your thighs.
“Why can’t you be this nice all the time,” you jested, pushing her shoulder gently with one foot.
She scoffed, laughing lightly. “I could say the same thing to you.”
You made an annoyed sound in your throat, brushing her off as she got back up. The mattress shifted with her weight and you tried your best to sit up and lean back against your pillows. Your wrists ached as you pushed yourself up, and the tendons in your thighs were sore as you closed your legs.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you muttered. “How am I supposed to do my job now?”
She shrugged, pulling her pants back on. “That’s not my problem.”
You crossed your arms. “Food is expensive.” You didn’t make enough money that day to buy dinner for yourself yet, and you were starting to get hungry. She tired you out in every sense. Hell, you really needed some water too.
“Okay,” she nodded. “How about I make it up to you? I’ve got a poker game tomorrow night and one of my guys just bailed. There’s an empty spot at the table if you want it.”
Your brow furrowed. Why the hell did she want you there?
“You can eat as much as you want,” she offered.
Your head tilted to the side. Every pro and con ran through your mind and a million questions shot through you, but one came to the surface: “Why me?”
“Because I want someone easy to beat,” she teased, pulling her shirt over her head. She saw your glare and shook her head. “Really, there’s just no one else, and the game won’t be as good with less people. You seem like you could hold your own against the guys I hang out with—much better than the girls down the hall.”
Surely, she had some ultimotives. She probably just wanted to get in your pants again but was trying to be nice enough so you would let her. A night at her poker table would probably be a good time. You gambled with some of the other workers when business was slow and you thought you were pretty good. Besides, being seen with her so publicly would probably keep you safer when walking down the street.
“What time should I be there?”
She was fully dressed, standing at the edge of the bed. If she was happy with you agreeing, she didn’t show it. “About nine.”
“Okay. Fine.”
She nodded, leaning over the bed. “Okay, I have to go now.” She motioned for you to come forward and kissed you slowly when you complied.
She hummed against your lips. “Walk me out?”
“Funny.”
She laughed, leaning back and muttering a goodbye as she walked out. You said it back quietly, face slightly contorted in confusion as you tried to figure her out.
After she was gone, you laid there for a while in silence. Your sweat stuck to your skin as you ran your hands over your hair to tame it in the back. You wiped the makeup that was smudged under your eye.
A few minutes later, Zanria poked her head back into your room. You assumed she was just being nosy, but you soon saw she was carrying a tray of something.
“What?” You asked, feeling a bit too tired to be nice.
“She paid for this,” Zanria said, walking up to you in the bed. You sat up more to see the platter full of grapes, cheese, chocolate, and other small foods. There was a small pitcher of water, too.
Of course she did. She seemed to care about you a lot more than she was supposed to, and you weren’t complaining.
You only hoped it wouldn’t get too deep
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Text
Paradise: Part Two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Summary: Spencer finally meets your parents, but it doesn’t go as well as you thought it was going to go. Are you a bad girlfriend for letting your dad treat him that way, or is it completely out of your control?
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
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A small-town diner will have a lot of gossip that filters through, so it's the best place for information. You walk in with your two coworkers, and you're overwhelmed by the amount of people that are inside. This place is very busy for a place that's in the middle of nowhere.
"Be right with you," one of the waitresses says as she passes by you.
"It's not even lunchtime yet," Derek mutters to you as you three take a seat at the bar counter.
"The sign said people will travel for miles for Flo's Donuts," you shrug.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." The same waitress who passed you by is now behind the bar. Her name tag says her name is Betty. "Would you like a dozen to share?" You take out your badge and show it to her, and she realizes how serious this is. "Ooh. FBI."
"Ma'am, we're trying to trace the steps of a couple that may have been here a few days ago," Derek says.
"Darlin', I've waited on eighty-seven folks since we opened this morning. Somebody would have to come through here doing cartwheels on fire for me to remember."
"Would you take a look anyway, please?"
You take out the photos of the latest victims and show them to her.
"Huh! Well, I'll be. I do remember them."
"Were they doing cartwheels?"
"No, but I was. The lady left me a $10 tip for breakfast two days in a row. Nice couple. Are they in some kind of trouble?"
You don't want to give too much away, so you keep it sweet and short. Since the Gallens were here, then that means they were staying somewhere close by. Sherwood is a town that's on the east side of Lake Tahoe near the California state line. This area has over three hundred hotels, motels, and resorts. Penelope sent over every single phone number and address to everywhere the couple could have stayed.
Instead of going to three hundred businesses, you have to narrow down the list. Then, you'll be able to go door to door and show pictures of the Gallens in hope someone knows who they are. This process could take days or even weeks, but you don't have the manpower to make it go by faster.
At this point, what choice do you have?
It took all night to narrow down the list, so you had to pick this up the next morning. Everyone had been up late working on the list, so when you walk into the station the next morning, you see takeout containers everywhere.
"Morning JJ," you greet with a yawn.
"Sorry for the wake-up call."
"It's fine. I'm always tired," you wave her off.
"It looks like we've got a possible missing person," JJ says. "Ian and Abby Corbin were in Reno for the weekend. They were supposed to be home yesterday in San Luis Obispo. They could've driven right through Sherwood. They've already been missing a night. His mom's looking after their two kids."
"Call me when everybody gets here," Hotch says.
JJ turns to the table where all the take-out containers are, and she grimaces in disgust.
"What is this? Left-over Kung Pao chicken? That's disgusting." She picks up the containers and tosses them in the trash, and she notices the sheriff staring at her. "What?"
"The smell of Chinese food makes you sick, but you don't even flinch when you look at those pictures?"
JJ looks uncomfortable by his comment, and you're quick to jump in.
"JJ is the toughest woman I know."
"Thanks," she whispers to you.
"Here, eat this. This should help with your sickness."
You hand over a good snack that her baby boy will enjoy. She smiles and takes the snack gratefully. Soon, the rest of your team gets to the station, and the Sheriff gathers his men for the profile.
"Ian and Abby Corbin have already been missing for over twenty-four hours, which means we may only have until tonight to find them. According to their families, they left Reno yesterday and were planning on stopping somewhere for the night. They didn't use a credit card. Unless they travel with a lot of cash, the room wasn't too expensive," Hotch begins.
"They were not traveling on the interstate. That eliminates over half of our previous search," Emily adds. "It sounds like we're looking for somebody who works the night shift at a back road motel, and we think he's most likely in his early to mid-thirties."
"Why is that?" the sheriff asks.
"Abducting couples is an ambitious task, and this guy's had time to perfect his skill."
"He could be older."
"Don't get hung up on his age. That's the hardest thing to predict," Rossi says.
"What we do know is that females take extensive beatings from him. That, combined with the sexual assault, tells us he's a violent anger excitation rapist. A sexual sadist like this can't get off unless he's torturing and watching the effects on his victims," you state. "That part of the torture is psychological. This is another reason he takes couples. Chances are he forces one to watch his power over the other."
"Because only the women suffer sexual torture, he's likely a malignant misogynist. This typically stems from an extreme hatred towards a woman who was relentless in her psychological and physical abuse," Emily adds.
"How do you know the dad wasn't the abusive one, and he's just continuing the cycle?" the sheriff asks her.
"Only a woman could make him hate women this much. The idea of the 'terrible mother' is best illustrated in world mythology by the negative aspects of the great mother. Instead of nurturing her children, she destroyed him, and given this upbringing, it's highly unlikely he'd ever been in a relationship let alone been married."
"Since he works in the service industry, he's forced to deal with a lot of people. So, he can probably hide his aversion to women until he gets them behind closed doors. With that said, we shouldn't rule out anyone with prior offenses toward women."
"Given the amount of time he spends with his victims," Hotch says, "he requires a great deal of privacy. He may even utilize an ATV to get away from the accident sites, so the property may back up onto an off-road trail. We should therefore concentrate on the most remote motels first. Thank you."
It's time to go door to door asking managers if they had seen the missing couple. There are too many properties to double up, so you have to go alone. After a dozen people have told you they know nothing of the missing couple, it's already sundown. Everyone has been working their asses off, and it seems like you're not getting anywhere.
You make it back to the police station when everyone gets through their list. No one has any good news, and you're about to collapse from how tired you are. Hotch is still out, and you're about to call him and ask if you can take a break when you get a call from your mom.
"Hey, mom. Did you get my message?"
"I did, sweetie. Your father and I are in town right now. Could I steal you away from your job for dinner?"
"Let me ask. Send me the address, and I'll let you know if I can or not."
"Okay, sweetie."
You quickly hang up on her and get Hotch on the phone. He's not too particular about you leaving, but since your parents are down the road at a local restaurant and you've finished with your list, he allows you to go. If he needs you and Spencer, then all he has to do is call, and you'll come right back.
"Spencer, let's go," you say and grab your jacket.
"Where are we going?"
"To dinner with my parents. We won't be long in case Hotch needs us back."
"Meeting the parents, huh? Good luck, man," Derek says and pats him on the shoulder.
You two take one of the government cars and head over to the restaurant, and your parents stand when they see you enter.
"Mom! Dad!" you grin and give them both a hug. Your dad holds you for a tad longer than your mother, but you don't think anything of it. "I'd like you to meet Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mom and dad, Julie and Joey."
Your dad immediately stiffens up, and you look at him to see his eyes seething red with anger. He's trying to hide it, but you can see the underlying threat in his eyes.
"Be nice," you whisper to him before taking a seat in the booth with Spencer next to you, and your parents across from you.
"Spencer, it's nice to finally meet you," your mom says with a smile.
You wanted nothing but to enjoy dinner with your parents, but you can feel the tension in the air even without your abilities.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/L/N."
"So, how did you two meet?" your dad asks.
"We met at work. I had just started and he helped me learn the ropes. It wasn't until about seven or eight months after we met that we started dating." You think about Lila Archer, and how he was smitten with her. Man, that seems like so long ago. "He's a doctor, you know."
"Y/N," Spencer blushes.
"Really?" your mom asks.
"Yeah. He has three PhDs, three Bachelor's degrees, and specializes in statistics and geographical profiling. He's very smart," you grin proudly.
"You're in love with him, aren't you?" your mom asks.
"I am."
"You're too young to be in love," your dad snaps.
Your dad stares at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looks at Spencer and holds his utensils with a grip so hard that his knuckles turn white.
"Dad, I can feel your anger. What is the matter?" you sigh.
"Nothing," he shrugs.
Your mom places a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off. You're not sure what's causing this behavior, but you try to ignore it. Even after the food comes, your dad still holds a sour look on his face.
"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" you ask, tired of his shit.
"Nothing. I'm fine." You glare at him, and he mutters something under his breath that you hear as clear as day. "Spencer isn't good enough for you."
You slam your utensils down on the table with a loud clang, and Spencer stays silent next to you.
"I love him, Daddy. That should be more than enough. We need to get back. Call me when you have a better attitude. Come on, Spencer."
You two slide out of the booth, and you toss down some money for the meal you know they were going to pay.
"I'm sorry, Spencer," you say when you get into the car.
"Don't be."
Still, you can't help but feel bad. You head back to the station, and when Derek sees the sad look on your face, he wants to question it. Spencer shakes his head at his friend, and Derek holds his tongue for now.
"Where are we at?" you ask, eager to get back into the case.
"Garcia found a connection between a motel handyman and Rebecca. They went to high school together. So, I thought maybe he was connected to other victims. It turns out he's not, but there's something else that all of the women have in common. Rebecca was found in a bra, a t-shirt, a skirt, and flip-flops. Johanna was found in a dress and sandals, and Melissa was wearing a bra, tank top, and jeans. None of them were wearing underwear."
"How do you know it was taken?" Spencer asks.
"Because they all packed it in their bags, but none were wearing it during the collisions. He leaves his victims in a car without their underwear and waits for them to be hit. A violent collision of metal against flesh. It's like the accidents are the final rape. This sexual aspect didn't show up overnight. This is something he's been building up to."
"So, this guy sees these collisions as some kind of rape?" The Sheriff asks.
"We know that an underwear fetish typically begins in adolescence with peeping in neighbors' windows. When that no longer satisfies them, they'll burglarize homes and start taking the object that arouses them."
"If they get away with that long enough, they become more confident. Then the object becomes the woman wearing it. That's when rape can occur. The one constant is they always take the underwear as a souvenir."
"Is it possible a pervert like this has ever been arrested?"
"There's a good chance a serial sex offender with an underwear fetish has been caught before."
"Right again, Agent Hotchner," Penelope says.
You didn't even know she was on the phone with the rest of the team.
"What is it, Garcia?"
"For the last two days, I've been searching through ViCAP for similar rapes and murders in cases that are still open. That has yielded me with diddly squat. So, I regrouped. I looked at some pictures of baby pandas. I went back in and I started searching for similar rapes and murders in cases that had been solved.
"Five months ago, this guy named Clint Barnes is convicted of five rapes that have been thirty miles away in Selbyville. Now, what's interesting, and by interesting I also mean icky and sad and wrong, is that Mr. Barnes only stole the undergarment of his last victim and she was beaten in exactly the same manner as our current victims. She was the only one who died," Penelope explains.
"The first four showed no sign of torture?"
"According to statements made by the survivors, yes. There were some questions about his performance. Things like, 'Did you enjoy it?'"
"That sounds like a power reassurance rapist. That doesn't fit his last crime at all," Spencer says.
"The last victim wasn't his. It was our unsubs."
"I'll push a rush through the DA's office," the Sheriff says.
With him asking the DA for the files from Selbyville, they come pretty quickly. He must know the DA for it to come that quickly.
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rons-wheezely · 3 years
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224 || G.W.
George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU
Genre: Fluff, humor
Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?
A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.
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“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him. 
His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”
You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.” 
This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is. 
Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.
Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.
You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.
As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once. 
You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…” 
All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.
“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”
“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.” 
“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.
“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”
Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.
“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile. 
George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”
“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love. 
“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films. 
You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you. 
“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”
“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.
“Maybe.”
“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.
"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”
It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.
Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”
You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?” 
“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.
“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”
“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.
“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you. 
“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.
“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?
“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”
If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“
He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?
“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.
The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”
“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?
“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”
“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”
“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.
“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.
“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.
You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”
“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.
You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”
“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”
As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“
Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.
You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.
“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.
He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.
“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”
You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.
“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.
Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.
596 notes · View notes
taechaos · 3 years
Text
Silent Treatment
from Textbook Love drabble series
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pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader
genre: drabble, smut, college au
synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.
warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation
word count: 4.2k
tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie
a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗
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The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.
You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 
A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 
“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”
Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.
Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 
You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 
“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.
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Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.
“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”
Said boy only grunts in response.
“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”
The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”
“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.
He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”
A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.
“No,” he murmurs.
“Then…?”
“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”
“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 
“Like 30 seconds.”
“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”
“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
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Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 
You didn’t do anything.
It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.
“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”
“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”
“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”
“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.
“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 
He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.
A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.
“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.
“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.
“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”
“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.
There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  
He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.
“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”
“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”
“Jungkook.”
He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”
He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.
“She’s in room 124… Why?”
When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 
Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 
He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 
You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.
“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”
He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”
You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”
You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.
“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”
You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”
He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.
“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”
He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.
Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.
All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.
“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”
You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 
“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.
“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.
His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”
“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”
You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.
Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.
After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.
The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”
750 notes · View notes
levworship · 3 years
Text
cw: dom!reader, fem reader, mommy kink, degrading, dirty talk, oral (fem rec), slight mind break, reader is a lil manipulative. just a bit. probably had errors
summary: you find out while on another blind date with one of mina’s friends that kirishima is just the man for you. he wants to be used, and you’re more than willing to use him.
word count: approx 2.9k
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“fuckin’ mina. i’m gonna beat her ass.”
this wasn’t the first time your best friend has tried to set you up with one of her friends. and honestly, knowing her, it more than likely wouldn’t be the last time, either. “but he’s so nice” she’d promise, or “she’s just a little shy,” and perhaps the most common line of “you just have to be a little patient with them”
patient my ass.
your damn patience was beginning to run thinner and thinner the longer you sat waiting at the table for your date to arrive. you’re used to mina’s friends not being the most punctual, but to not show up at all? it was almost insulting. here you were, taking the time out of your busy day to spare some of your sweet time with some rando and—
“hey there, beautiful.” your eyes quickly tore away from the spot you’d been staring at for the past few minutes during your internal rant. part of you wished you hadn’t, because you damn near stopped breathing. typically, you’d never allow a man the satisfaction of hindering you speechless, but fuck. the man before you stood tall and strong, the white fabric of his dress shirt clinging onto his muscles in the most delicious way possible. his hair was slicked up in a style that you could only describe as goofy, and his smile? it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but to toss away the piping hot insults you’d been preparing to shoot his way.
“sorry i’m late. was searching all over town to find these for ya. i know mina said they were your favorite, and well—“ pulling his arms from behind his back, the red-haired man handed you a comically large bouquet of flowers. were they your favorite? no, not at all. but you couldn’t help but to be flattered anyway. “had to look all over town for them. turns out they’re actually pretty hard to find around here. can you believe that?” he chuckled to himself as he scratched at the back of his neck. an unfittingly cute gesture for a man of his build.
you grin sweetly as you grab the bouquet from his large hands, setting them down on the table in front of you and batting your lashes. “these are very beautiful! thank you so much, ...um?”
mina always purposely hid the names of her friends away before setting you up, mostly in fears that you’ll end up googling them and find some not so pretty things, just as you had that time when she tried to set you up with katsuki bakugou. (you noted to yourself that day, stay away from him at all costs.)
“ah- eijirou kirishima!” he filled in for you and held a hand out for you to shake. your eyebrows shot up in realization, leaning forward a bit on the table to shake his hand. you don’t miss the way his eyes shamelessly drift down to your cleavage when you do so. the sight made you laugh.
now you saw why he seemed so familiar at first glance. you’d heard mina talk to you about him on numerous occasions. big, handsome, and dumb. that’s how you’ve always perceived him from listening to her stories and descriptions. and if there was one thing you actually enjoyed about a man, it was how simple they could be. perfect for a woman with your desires.
you open your mouth to return his introduction, but he’s already cutting you off with perhaps a little too much eagerness. “and you’re y/n? did i say that right?” he quirks an eyebrow. “uh- i may have asked mina about you already. a lot.” he flashed you a sheepish smile.
talking to him felt like being a kid in a loaded candy shop. he’d be in the palm of your hand in no time.
the rest of dinner went on moderately better than your previous experiences with these stupid dates. kirishima was a bit of a talker, but you didn’t mind listening if it meant you got to watch the way those puppy dog eyes lit up a little more every time he’d begin telling you a story from his hero work (turns out you were just really behind on the latest hero news), only to quickly become side tracked by one details of his story and trail his way to another mini rant.
finally, you figure you’ve had enough of him rambling. it was time to cut to the point. “does it get lonely?�� you asked him suddenly, trying your best to hold in a smile at the way he looked at you confusedly. “i mean- not really? i’m a hero so i’m with people all of the time-“ “that’s not what i meant, red.” hearing you refer to him by his hero name sent visible chills down his spine. just the effect you were wishing to have on him. something about your change in tone knocked him from a highly energetic and charismatic sweetheart, to a blushing and stuttering mess who suddenly couldn’t sit still in his seat. and from just one question, too?
he was almost too good to be true.
“no? i-i mean, yes but... i dunno. i’m busy a lot, a-and i don’t really have time for... yaknow.” “what kind of women do you like? in bed, i mean.” you managed to knock his brain around for a second time as he fumbled around his head for an answer.
“i-i guess it depends?” “hm? what do y’mean?” the way he continued to respond to your nasty questions had you licking your lips. you wanted him. badly. in the most selfish ways possible.
“depends on what the chick is into. i mean- they usually like when i’m on top. but..” you don’t respond this time. instead you look at him expectantly and wait for him to continue his previous statement. something about seeing such a grown man grow so embarrassed that quickly does something to you.
“i guess i wouldn’t mind... having someone take control for once?”
everything from that point felt like a blurred flash. you quickly abandoned the bouquet and called for the bill (which he so generously covered for the two of you) and were stumbling out of the door in no time, speedily walking all the way to your humble apartment. the door had just swung open when you were already shoving him inside.
kirishima spent nearly the entirety of the walk psyching himself up for this. did you know he wanted to experiment with this? had mina told you? how would mina even know? did he even really want this? because by the way he was struggling to catch his breath and connect dots in his mind, maybe he’d gotten too far ahead of himself.
but it was too late for that now. you’d already shoved him all the way down the hall, into your bedroom, and onto your bed before he knew it. you were fierce and impatient. and honestly? he found it quite intriguing.
“red...” you drew him back from falling into his thoughts once again, dragging your knuckles across the rough skin of his cheek. “i said, are you sure you want this?” and he swears he’s never nodded faster in his life, already grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. “yes! yes, i’m sure. please y/n?” and with that, a thread in you snapped.
you pushed him roughly until his head rested comfortably against the pillows, muttering a quick ‘stay’ as you began to fumble with his belt. you’d barely even touched him, yet he still lied staring at you with those same big adoring eyes. he was just too cute for his own good.
it made you want to wreck him.
you practically ripped away his pants and boxers before gently palming at his cock. you had expected him to be big, but not this big. he was long and thick, your hand barely managing to wrap completely around it. wordlessly you crouched down and pressed a gentle peck to his swollen tip, the precum that’d gathered there now sticking deliciously to your lips.
kirishima was getting so restless above you that you could’ve mistaken him for a virgin, hands fisting at your sheets with countless pleas tumbling from his lips. “so impatient, cutie. dont you want to be taken care of?” “i do! i do!” it seemed as if he was completely unashamed of how desperate he must’ve looked right now.
but rather than provide the sweet sweet release you knew he was craving, you tsked and backed away from his cock. much to his disappointment. “you know something, red? i didn’t take you for the selfish type. want me to make you feel good when you haven’t even touched me yet? and i thought you were a gentleman...”
kirishima thrashed below you, fingers digging hard into your hips. “i’m a gentleman! i’ll be a gentleman! i promise!” his lip wobbled cutely. you almost felt bad for having to deny such a pretty face.
almost.
he observed closely as you leaned back on your knees, sliding down the straps of your dress and tugging until your lacy bra was revealed to him. you were going to be the fucking death of him. you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the way he eyed your chest. “i’ll tell you what.” you said as you reached out and pressed a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet your intense eyes.
“be a good boy for me and maybe, maybe, i’ll let you touch. deal?” and kirishima nodded giddily. truly an obedient little thing, he was.
you gave him a large smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before patting him on the cheek, moving up to straddle his face and... shit. you weren’t wearing any panties under your dress. the smell of your arousal right in front of his face nearly made him overload, wanting nothing more but to bury his face between your legs until you’re heaving and begging for a break. but he had to be good for you. wanted you to rake your fingers through his hair and call him your good boy while he plays with your pretty tits.
“well? dont you want a tas—” you gasp when his mouth is suddenly on you, every sense of restraint abandoned as his tongue slid across and pressed against your poor clit. it was messy, no real technique behind his frantic movements, but he still had your eyes crossing and your thighs squeezing the sides of his head as ear muffs, his fingers squeezing and prodding at the flesh to keep himself grounded.
the sounds that came from your cunt and his mouth were embarrassingly lewd, the sound of his slurping making your entire body go hot. you were so close to losing your composure and letting him have you the way he wants, but you couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. not when you’ve been craving this for this long.
“kiri..” you couldnt tell if you were whispering or yelling at this point, brain all scrambled from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. you nearly doubled over from the vibrations of the small ‘hmm’ of acknowledgment he gave you. your fingers tangle themselves in his stiff red locks, holding his face still to allow you to grind yourself on his mouth just the way you wanted.
your breath hitched in your throat each time his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue buried deep in your hole as he was desperate to taste all of your juices. you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you..
“oh, shit! just like that. good- fuck! such a good boy” the praise sends him into a frenzy, now using the pad of his thumb to rub viciously at your clit as his tongue fucked into you so nicely.
“‘m cumming, cumming, oh my god!” you’re hunched over now, eyes screwed shut when your orgasm suddenly rips through you. kirishima’s tongue continued its assault on your spasming pussy, the overstimulation becoming almost unbearable. you tried everything to get him off of you to make it stop. tugging his hair, lifting yourself up- but nothing seemed to be able to separate him from you until you literally shouted his name.
he released you in an instant and allowed you to back away to fully take in his form. everything about the sight was downright sinful. your juices covered the entire lower half of his face, and his hair remained matted with sweat against his forehead. and most delicious of all? he still looked hungry. you nearly said ‘fuck it’ and climbed back on top of him again...
but he needed to be punished.
and it seemed that he knew this too, because the moment your eyes met he was already begging for mercy. “‘m sorry! p-“ “i thought you promised you’d be a good boy? yaknow, i’m not exactly a big fan of liars, red. how could i let you have me when you can’t even follow simple instructions?” he’s silent at this point, eyes glued to the ground with an unreadable emotion splayed across his face.
you huffed as you climbed off of the bed, standing on wobbly legs with your back turned to him. you shook your head as you quickly slid your dress back into place. you originally planned on leaving it at this and sending him home, and perhaps you’d consider giving him a second shot if he begged you pretty enough. but kiri had other plans.
he wasn’t quite sure what came over him, but when he realized that you were planning on leaving him like that he couldn’t help but to jump up, gripping onto your waist once again. “kiri! what are you doing?” “please.” he whimpered into your ear, hard chest pressing into your back and his painfully hard cock rutting against your ass.
you probably would’ve collapsed right there if it weren’t for his tight grasp. “please don’t leave! ‘m so hard for you. want you so fucking bad. i’ll do anything, just- please let me cum. mommy.” the word rolled off of his tongue so sweetly, so heavenly, you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving him back onto the bed and tearing off his shirt.
you licked your lips when he was left completely bare to you finally, hand already working at pumping his cock. “suck a dirty boy. men like you are scum, you know that? getting so upset that you didn’t get your way after being so disobedient? i should tie you up and edge you for the rest of the night just for that” he began to mindlessly shake his head, muttering quiet a ‘no, no..’
“however,” you began to drag your fingernail across his chest, playing with the hairs that rested there, “think i’m gonna let it slide this time. well, only if you thank me properly..”
“thank you mommy!” the way there wasn’t even an ounce of hesitation or shame in his voice had you clenching around nothing. denying him any longer was beginning to be just as much torture to yourself as it was to him. biting down on your lip, you grabbed his cock and started pressing the tip to your entrance.
you began to feel as though you’ve managed to completely break him, watching as he continued to sputter out ‘thank you’s even as you struggled to take his cock in your dripping cunt. the stretch was nearly unbearable at first, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.
you weren’t going to stop until you knew you’ve completely broken him down into a blubbering mess for you. until you were the only thing he could think of. until you had him quivering and begging just for you. the thought of making him into your slave had you bouncing on his dick with energetic vigor.
kirishima was a sight to behold, too. eyes crossed and occasionally fluttering shut, panting like a dog as every bit of his stamina oozed out of him and he had to hold himself back from cumming too quickly.
at one point you caught his eyes glued on to the way your covered tits bounced while you rode him, still clad in your tight dress. you smirked devilishly before reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, tugging it down with the dress once again and toying with your puffy nipples for his viewing pleasure.
that seemed to be the final straw for kiri, as he was now bucking up into you like a horny mutt. “gonna cum so hard, mommy. please let me cum in you. g’nna fill you up so good. wanna make you a mommy. i want it- i want it- i want it...” with all of his babbling you weren’t quite sure if he was aware of what he was saying right now, but the lewd words still had you spiraling closer and closer.
“cum in me, baby. be a good boy for mommy and give her your babies, okay?” you told him as you gripped his face in your hands.
and like the obedient little thing he is,, he did exactly that.
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thirsts and requests for haikyuu and bnha are open.
482 notes · View notes
discopig · 3 years
Text
That other girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 2/3]
Okay so I’ve made a few improvements, first one being I won’t be writing at 2 AM after 4 hours of sleep because I read back part one and honestly wanted to shoot myself, I also added paragraph/scene dividers because the first part was very messy and I kept fucking up the tenses! My imagination has been going wild for this fic so I need to calm myself. I don’t intend for this to be a long story, I hope to finish it by the next part. Hope you guys enjoy :))
Part 1 | Part 3
Warnings: implied family abuse, swearing (doesn’t even need to be a warning)
Word Count: 1,452
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You stared at the woman at the door, what seemed like millions of thoughts rushing through your mind at once. She was beautiful. Not to say you weren’t beautiful yourself, but insecurity seemed to be the main component of the blood flowing through your veins at the sight of her. She looked like the models you would see at the fashion shows your mother would take you to as a kid, and she made the plain barmaid’s uniform look like the most expensive piece Chanel could offer.
The woman’s eyes darted between you and harry as she spotted the two of you together.
“Thanks for the help” Harry said, taking the glasses from the basket the woman carried them in. As though he forgot something, he quickly turned around after placing them on the counter behind the bar. 
“Grace” he acknowledged the woman, “this is Y/N, your co-barmaid” he said, turning to you.
You were secretly hoping she was just here on delivery for the shop Harry had bought the glasses from, and wished so deeply she wasn’t the barmaid he had mentioned earlier, but alas, she had to be. 
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you” she smiled extending her hand towards you
“Likewise” you gave her a small smile, taking her hand and shaking it
“Harry’s told me a lot about you, about how you help him around the bar and whatnot, how good you are at dealing with the rowdy customers” You picked up on her Irish accent
"Well, that’s nice to hear. Are you not from Birmingham?” you questioned
“Oh no, I’m not. I only got here about a week ago. I used to work at a bar in Galway, so I got quite lucky to be able to get a job at a bar here” she replied.
Quite lucky I sprained my fuckin’ ankle you mean. You mentally scoffed at her
“That is quite lucky” you laughed
By now Harry had left to sort out the glasses in storage, so you figured you might as well pry for something out of her
“So Harry tells me you’ve been serving the Shelby boys while I’ve been gone, you know they’re trouble?” You asked, staring into her eyes, trying to gauge any sort of reaction you could receive. She seemed unfazed.
“Well, they’ve been quite nice to me, given me lots of tips” 
“Is that so? Who’s been giving you tips?” They never gave you tips, even on the busiest of nights when you were running back and forth serving their requests for beer which seemed to come through ever 10 fucking seconds
“Uh, the tall one” John. Damn him.
“Ah, I see, hopefully it was good money” you ‘beamed’ at her, trying to be friendly 
“Good enough” she laughed back
“So what brings you to Birmingham?” 
“My father passed away and I just needed a change of scenery” she replied, her eyes showed sadness, so you figured her father passing couldn’t be a lie, but a change of scenery in Birmingham? Yeah right. Maybe on some farm surrounded by chickens and mosquitoes, or in some tropical American city, but not in Birmingham. Most people want out, not in, unless they have good reason to favour the latter.
“I’m sorry to hear that” 
“It’s okay, he was quite old anyways, I had expected it at some point” she replied with a half smile, eyes still sad.
You both sat in silence for a moment until you spoke “I’ll be back next week to help out” you looked towards the door, more customers starting to pile in, Harry back from the storage room, rushing to get their orders, and back at Grace “things are starting to get busy, I won’t hold you any longer. It was nice meeting you” you smiled at her, getting up from your seat and heading  out of the Garrison, trudging to the betting shop.
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The Shelby family were in the midst of a family meeting, discussing business you honestly didn’t care much about, thoughts racing with how you were going to have Thomas’ head on a stake. 
“That copper, is going to try and bring this family down with every fuckin’ cell in his body” Thomas exclaimed
“What copper?” you asked. Thomas looked at you like you had just asked him if the sun was a rock
“Campbell. We’ve been talking about him this whole meeting Y/N” you could tell he was annoyed, but you didn’t care
“When did he get here? When did this start?” you asked
“Why does that-” Thomas started
“Answer the fucking question Thomas Shelby” you interrupted
“About a week ago, he worked as a copper in Ireland, and has come with his troops to Birmingham to try and ruin all of my fucking plans. Keep up please!” He replied, clearly frustrated.
Ireland?
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You knocked on the door to Thomas’ office and waited before you heard a low “Come in”
You walked into his office, Thomas looking down at some papers, and sat down on one of the chairs at his desk
“How are you liking the new barmaid?” You asked, staring him down.
At the mention of the barmaid he looked up at you, a mix of panic and annoyance flashing in his eyes
“She does her job Y/N. What else can I think of her? He replied with a sigh at the end
“Oh I’m sure she does her job well enough for you to be having secret meetings with her” you replied, venom laced in your voice. You were starting to get angry, and him behaving as though he was annoyed by your presence wasn’t making it any easier
“Y/N what are you-” 
“Don’t fucking what me Thomas Shelby! Harry told me all about the lovely interest you’ve taken to her, enough so to meet with her every fucking day! Did you fuck her?! If you did you better tell me because so help me God if I find out from-”
“I did not fucking sleep with her Y/N will you PLEASE calm down?” Thomas yelled, his voice booming through the office
“If you didn’t sleep with her then what did you do?”
“We just talked” he answered, as though everything was normal
“Just talked?! Have you forgotten that you have a girlfriend Thomas, a girlfriend who had a sprained fucking ankle and couldn’t walk, who you could’ve come to any time to just talk?! You think I’m supposed to believe that’s all you did? Why would you just talk to her and not me?!” You were screaming again, your anger reaching a tipping point
“Because she isn’t like you Y/N!” 
You looked at him, visibly confused
“She didn’t grow up with daddy’s loaded bank account in some posh city, she’s genuine, like a breath of fresh fucking air in this place! She gets me, and I get her, and she happened to be there when I needed someone to talk to! Is that so bad?!” You stared at him dumbfounded, not only had he implied that he could not come to you -his girlfriend- when he needed someone to talk to, he also brought up your family and history, knowing damn well the riches your family had, meant nothing to you, constantly overshadowed by the yelling, bruises and loneliness.
The true weight of his words seemed to register with him as regret flashed in his eyes under your dumbfounded, yet angry gaze
“Fuck you Thomas Shelby. Fuck you. She’s working with that fucking copper”
He moved to say something but you quickly interrupted him
“I know you did your stupid background checks, I asked Arthur about it. She’s not from fucking Galway, she never worked in any bars, meaning she lied about everything, and she, your lovely Irish angel shows up at the same time that copper does, and you still willingly walk into her presence every damn day while your girlfriend is alone, to talk?! To fucking talk?!”
Thomas was visibly getting angrier as you accused her of working with Campbell, moving to defend her
“Don’t you think you’re going too far?! I get you’re jealous but you can’t just make shit up!”
You scoffed 
“Polly was right about men only being able to think with their cocks. Even you, the oh so smart Thomas Shelby, are a blind fucking idiot. Fuck you, I never want to see you again, you hear me? You can go talk to that fucking barmaid as much as you want” You spat, leaving his office with a loud slam of his door, catching John’s worried eyes as you stormed out of the shop. Your ankle was radiating with pain, but you ignored it as you stormed home.
Fucking Shelbys.
259 notes · View notes
fruitcoops · 3 years
Note
hey! i love your work so much and i had an idea. what about the whole team going to pride? or maybe just the cubs or coops, but i would love to see the whole team supporting and maybe breaking out flags of their own. :)))
Happy Pride, everyone!!! It has been such a wild year, but I hope you all find comfort and joy during this month <3 I'm sending you all love and hugs (or high-fives, if you prefer), as well as positive vibes for the summer. SW credit belongs to @lumosinlove as always!
Credit to @queercanoe for the the rainbow bracelet idea <3
“This is…this is really nice,” Sirius said as they stood in line for popsicles. His face glowed with happiness and Remus squeezed his hand where it laid over his shoulder.
“Better than last year?”
He hummed in thought. “I like being here without the Cup and all the cameras. It’s just us.”
“And half the team,” Remus added.
“True,” Sirius laughed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Some of the glitter Lily had managed to sprinkle over his head and smear on his cheeks fell onto Remus’ shirt, and he brushed it off with a laugh. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. The kids are still arguing.”
Sirius glanced behind them and snorted; on the other end of the block, Leo hitched Logan higher on his back as he held Finn’s baseball cap out of reach. Talker and James had started an impromptu game of volleyball with a stray balloon, and the sight of Regulus playing peekaboo with Harry using his pride flag cape sent a burst of happy butterflies through Remus’ stomach.
“D’you think they’ve even noticed we’re gone?”
“Doubt it.”
They tapped their popsicles together in a toast and meandered back to the group—the afternoon heat toned down some of the manic energy of the morning parade, and Remus was content to just wander hand-in-hand with his fiancé for a while.
Not your fiancé for long, he reminded himself as the ice cooled his mouth. Just five more days, and then you’ll have a ring, too.
He stood on his toes, still a little sore from dancing earlier in the day, and kissed Sirius’ cheek. “What was that for?”
“Nothing. Just ‘cause I love you.”
Sirius let out a slow breath and squeezed him a little tighter around the shoulders, catching a drip of syrupy red before it slid down to his elbow. “This is the perfect day.”
“It is, isn’t it? Ooo, blue raspberry.”
“Can I have a taste?”
“Of c—” Remus was cut off by warm lips against his own, shorting out every braincell in one fell swoop. You sly little shit, he thought, smiling into the kiss as Sirius dipped him back.
They straightened up after a moment and Sirius raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.”
“Your lips are purple.”
He licked his own half-melted popsicle before dragging Remus in for one more kiss, though both of them were almost laughing too hard for his plan to work. “There. Now we match.”
“Thanks, babes.”
“Hey!” Finn cupped his hands around his mouth, clearly giving up on retrieving his hat. “Are you done yet? I was promised popsicles!”
Remus flipped him off and pulled Sirius down by the collar of his shirt, suddenly uncaring of the stickiness making its chilly way down his forearm. It was their day to do that, after all; their day to be flamboyantly affectionate to anyone in sight, regardless of contracts and media and expectations. It was a day drenched in popsicle sugar where he could turn his soon-to-be-husband’s lips more purple than the dahlias he loved so much.
“You could’ve just said ‘no’,” Finn remarked as they rejoined the group, both a little flushed.
“As if you’ve kept your hands to yourself,” Remus teased, gesturing to the various smudges in Finn’s face paint.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Good point.”
“I have them on occasion.” A burst of giggling caught both their attention and softness bloomed in Remus’ chest as Sirius tossed Harry a few inches into the air, making rocket ship noises. Next to him, Leo had set Logan down so he could lift Katie up and tickle her until she shrieked with joy.
“God, they’re cute,” Finn said around a mouthful of syrup-soaked ice. The look in his eyes was unmistakably fond, and Remus knew it was reflected on his own face.
“They are. The boyfriends aren’t bad, either.”
Finn snorted, then spluttered as he nearly spat out his popsicle, sending Remus into peals of laughter. “Stop it!” he complained, though the didn’t sound very upset at all. “I’m gonna get a brain freeze!”
“A brain freeze?” Sirius turned to Harry with exaggerated shock.
“Oh, no!” Harry gasped. Behind them, James stifled his smile in the side of Lily’s neck.
“It’s not lookin’ good, buddy,” Finn said with false gravity. “Popsicles are a dangerous food.”
Harry made grabby hands until Finn settled him on his hip, then took his face between two chubby hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Your lips are blue,” he proclaimed after a long moment.
“Are they?”
“Uh-huh. Tremzy’s got red lips, an’ Knutty’s got red lips, and Mama has pink lips, and Uncle Pads has purple lips.” Harry poked the side of his mouth. “You’ve gotta have purple lips, too.”
Finn raised his eyebrows at Remus over Harry’s shoulder. “Not a chance, Harzy.”
“We’re better kissers anyway,” Leo said with a grin as he sidled up and gave Finn a light peck. “Better, Pocket Pots?”
Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth in a comical imitation of Sirius’ concentration face; Remus shoulders shook as he held back his amusement. “Almonds.”
“What?”
“Almost,” Sirius corrected gently. “Not almonds. Close, though.”
“Tremzy!” Harry called. Logan looked up from Katie, who was quite happily upside down as he swung her like a clock pendulum. “You’ve gotta make Harzy’s lips purple!”
“Do I?” Logan glanced back down. “Can I set you down, ma princesse?”
“No!”
“Okay,” he laughed, hauling her over with careful steps. Finn leaned down to kiss him; over his shoulder, Leo and Harry made faces at each other.
“This is perfect,” Sirius murmured, resting his forehead against Remus’ (admittedly sweaty) hair. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the stress of wedding planning roll off his back. He could be surrounded by their family in a sea of color for just a little longer—they could be there together.
“I’m proud to be with you,” he said as Regulus clambered onto Leo’s back for ‘a better view’.
It was a cheesy sentiment, but they had never shied away from romcom moments before. He felt Sirius’ soft huff of breath on his temple. “Re…”
I’ll never get tired of the way you say my name. “That’s me.”
The sigh turned to quiet laughter and a kiss. “We are such a cliché.”
“But you love it.”
“Damn right I do.” His lips were sweet and a little sticky, still; Remus wanted to drown in the feeling. “I will always be proud to be with you.”
“Uncle Pads!”
“Yes?” Sirius lifted him out of Finn’s arms with a dramatic groan. “You’re growing up too fast!”
Harry squished his cheeks, then poked the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you wear rainbows?”
Sirius frowned slightly. “I’m wearing rainbows right now.”
“But you only wear them now.”
“You want me to wear rainbows every day?” He cast a look at Remus, who half-shrugged.
“You do look good.”
“Everybody should wear rainbows all the time,” Harry declared. Down the street, a series of party poppers went off, followed by loud cheering from another group.
“Excuse me?” a timid voice asked. Remus startled slightly and turned around; a small group of teenagers was huddled by the massive balloon arch. One young man held his phone up. “Could we—uh, could we get a picture with you guys?”
“Do you want me to take it for you?” Leo offered as Finn took Harry again.
The kid’s eyes went wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, thanks!”
“Alright, on three!” Leo squinted in the sunshine as they gathered in a semicircle. “One, two, three, smile!”
“Could we get one with you, too?” one of the girls asked when he lowered the camera.
Sirius took the camera as they shuffled around and swapped positions, crowding close to the rainbow balloons while Harry played with Remus’ colorful suspenders. “Ready? Say cheese!”
“Cheese!” they chorused.
“I got a couple, just in case.” He handed the phone back to the first boy with a smile. “Are you guys having a good time?”
“Yeah, this is amazing,” he answered, a little breathless. “It’s—this is so cool. Thanks again.”
“Pas de problem.”
Remus glanced over just in time to see the girl bump her own rainbow bracelet with Leo’s; both of them were grinning broadly. “Have fun today, okay?” he said, giving the shortest of the group a high five. A jumble of goodbyes answered before they hurried back into the crowd, whispering among themselves while their pins flashed in the sun.
“They were cute,” Sirius said, watching them go with an indecipherable look. “Feels good to know it meant something, y’know?”
“It always does,” Remus agreed, snuggling against his side despite the heat. “I wish—”
Sirius looked down at him when he faltered; Harry yawned so wide his eyes closed. “What?”
“I wish we had this when we were kids.”
Regulus and Leo tumbled out of the rapidly-growing crowd, bickering over who got which part of the cotton candy, while Kasey stood as still as he could so Natalie could finish the small bi flag on his cheek. Sirius’ whole face lit up as he watched them. “It’s even better now.”
Remus watched the second wave of the parade build around them—people of every shape and size were decked out in a whole spectrum of colors, turning the street into a living rainbow in the afternoon sun. He tucked his hand into Sirius’ back pocket and laced their free hands together, listening to his heartbeat under his cheek. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”
“Coming to Pride?”
“No.” He held their hands up, and Sirius’ ring caught the light. “This.”
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hrwinter · 3 years
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Lena placing a pair of glasses on a pillow and making out with it pretending it’s Kara
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Lena’s not always this drunk. Well. Lena hasn’t historically imbibed this much after the age of 26, but her mother’s been arrested and her best friend is a liar, so what else is there to do other than look for an answer at the bottom of a very large bottle of scotch.
She’s been to three upscale bars and restaurants with Andrea, both of them reverting to their messy boarding school days almost instantaneously after the third glass, giggling in the corner and overtly hitting on men and women by sending them pretentious $24 cocktails.
But there’s still a dark streak in all the buffoonery. Lena can’t stop searching for blue eyes on the face of every blonde or broad shoulders under the lapels of every Armani jacket. She hates herself for it. And she hates Kara Danvers. Or Kara Zor-El, whatever the fuck.
Lena is pissed.
She takes another moody sip of scotch while some stock broker continues to shoot his shot (why do they all talk the same? why do they all feel the need to explain how money works to her, a billionaire?) and Andrea’s laughing and laughing at a woman far too loudly, her finger tips sloshing the edge of a martini she absolutely doesn’t need. While the man goes on about blue chip stocks, earnings per share, dividends (kill her), Lena’s eyeing the restroom.
No one would miss her if she ducked out. She could have a car here in minutes. Hell, Andrea would probably appreciate the attention of both parties at the same time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d finagled a twosome into a threesome.
But that means going home. It means gazing at the dark sky from the cold enclave of her penthouse balcony. It means seeing the downturned photo frame, glass smashed, but still not thrown away.
God damn Kara. She stays.
She doesn’t go home with the man, and Andrea doesn’t go home with the woman. They don’t all go home together. But she and Andrea do go to another bar, and after that, an after hours bar. Then, by some misfortune of a higher power, they end up at a bratwurst stand at 4 AM with a horde of college kids. College children.
“Someone threw up just there,” Lena points at the pavement.
“Oh, don’t be such a snob!” Andrea shrieks into the night, grasping at Lena’s elbow and toying with a necklace Lena knows to cost more than a tricked out Vespa. Lena may be glassy-eyed, there may even be two of Andrea, but she can still spot irony.
“I’m starving. And I haven’t had one of these in yeaaarrrsss,” Andrea elongates as they move up a few paces in line. “Remember when we’d sneak into town and grift old men for drinks? That hot dog stand just outside of Hawthorne’s? I’ve been desperate for one.”
Lena wants to complain more, but it does smell good. And by the time they have bratwursts fisted in hand and are leaning against a nearby brick wall with the rest of the infants, Lena’s not feeling all that bad. It might be the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. God, this might be the best she’s ever felt in her life. Numb, blitzed out of her mind, somewhere closer to nineteen sheets to the wind than three, she’s no longer a Luthor, no longer a simpering fool to a Super’s lies, not a CEO or a disappointment or even a person. She’s just a presence existing on this curb, eating a bratwurst.
“I’m having an out of body experience,” she tells Andrea with half her mouth full and still swallowing.
“That good, huh?” Andrea has mustard on her chin.
“I want another.”
Lena glances up, and her visions tunnels. Her existence is whittled down even further, to its basest instinct. She’s become the singular pursuit of a thousand more calories, of another bratwurst. Lena surges into the street, the stand a beacon of light in the darkness.
But several things happen at once. There’s a screech of tires, the smash of metal, what feels like getting hit with a brick wall and then being shot out of a circus canon.
Lena finds herself throwing up on the pavement on the other side of the road, and Kara fucking Danvers yelling at a motorist. The guy has gotten out of his car, hood dented and engine smoking.
“You smashed my car!”
“You almost hit a woman! You could’ve killed her!”
“She just bolted into the street, that’s not my fault!”
“PEDESTRIANS HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!” Kara shouts back.
“Hey!” Lena slurs, having regained her dignity by wiping her mouth clean of vomit. It’s called class.
Both the guy and Kara turn to look at her, but her eyes are trained on Kara.
“I don’t need your help,” she tells her with a point of her finger.
This feels very witty. The pinnacle of sass. So what if she’s lost a heel at some point and may have missed a bit of vomit in her hair. She’s the one in control.
The guy’s eyes narrow.
“Are you blind or something? Didn’t your mom teach you to look both ways before you walk into the street?”
At the mention of Lena’s mother, her eyes narrow, she sways dangerously.
“You’re fired.”
“What?” the guy rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” He whips out his cell phone. “You’ve got insurance right?”
“Um, yeah,” Kara hands him a card, but she’s quick to come to Lena’s side, to place a steadying hand on her shoulder. Lena tries to wiggle away from it like a petulant child.
“Stop it!”
Kara ignores her.
“Lena, I didn’t want to say it around him,” Kara cups a blocking hand over her mouth and points at the guy so he can’t see.
It’s so adorable and infuriating.
She stage whispers, “But you were jaywalking! And you could’ve been hit by a car. What’re you even doing out here?”
Lena rolls her eyes so hard, she might’ve just incurred permanent damage.
“I’m an adult, Supergirl, and I don’t need an escort--”
Lena’s very mature tirade is interrupted by Andrea crossing the street, mouth still wide open and staring. The look she’s giving Kara is distinctly not platonic, and the look she’s giving Lena is one of deepest intrigue. Her eyes scan the pair of them, their body language, the way Kara’s hand is still on Lena’s shoulder (hadn’t she shaken that off?), and smirks.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
Lena could kill her.
“Be quiet, Drea!”
Andrea dissolves into snorts, and Kara glances between the two of them, a look of recognition passing over her face. Now Lena wants to hurl herself into traffic for real.
Kara opens her mouth to speak, but Lena waves a hand in front of her nose.
“Just--everyone shut up and take me home.”
And the route Lena wants to be taken home is clear when she swats at Kara’s (firm) bicep (to push her away, of course), and that swat accidentally turns into a posessive squeeze.
“Oh, can I come, too?” Andrea purrs, and Kara’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“No!” Lena barks at her.
“Fine, fine! Call me tomorrow!” Andrea waves, and like some sort of rich superpower, she’s already getting into the back of a sleek black car.
“Okay, Lena,” Kara hushes against her head. It’s too soft and caring, and Lena wants to push her away. But she doesn’t. (Mainly because standing is feeling like quite a complex task, and she doesn’t have the balance for it.)
“This’ll only take a second.” 
Then, Lena’s wrapped in a warm and solid embrace. It’s nice... before everything blurs, and she has the distinct desire to vomit again.
She never wants another bratwurst.
In the very next moment, she’s being gingerly placed on her balcony, and Lena’s surging out of Kara’s grasp and pressing her face against the cold glass of her balcony sliding door. It feels amazing, calming her stomach down by degrees.
“What’re you doing?”
“Oh,” Lena says. Maybe she’d been doing that for a bit too long.
She runs her hands over the glass in an attempt to open the door, heavily petting various keypads and biometric scanners. Nothing happens. She scratches at the glass like a raccoon desperate to be inside.
“Um, isn’t it over there?” Kara indicates a different keypad to the left.
“I don’t need your help!” Lena shouts before following her instructions exactly. The door opens. She grumbles inside.
Unaware and uncaring, Lena starts undressing in her living room the very moment she’s crossed the threshhold, discarding her shirt, her skirt this way and that. There’s a gasp behind her and another suspicious super speeding sound, but she ignores Kara. She paces into her bedroom to strip off her bra and grab an oversized shirt. After, she spread eagles on her bed.
“I, um, brought you a glass of water.”
Lena cracks an eye open, takes in the sight of Kara standing at her bedside, nervous and uncertain, glass of water extended between them like some sort of peace offering.
She groans loudly and sits up to snatch it from her, water sloshing onto her bare legs. She doesn’t register it, draining it dry, glaring at Kara over the edge of the glass the entire time.
The Super pulls at her fingers.
“What’re you doing here?” Lena rasps, rolling the empty glass onto her exquisite and overpriced comforter.
“You were in trouble, Lena.”
“You don’t care about me.”
“Yes, I do.”
Lena scoffs, completely undignified, a sound appropriate for an elementary school playground. She does it again because it feels good. Kara’s eyebrows pinch.
Lena swivels at the waist and plucks her reading glasses off her bedside table. She places them over one of her giant, California King-sized pillows.
“Oh, Kara, there you are!” she says, squeezing it’s sides together like she’s cupping its cheeks. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you in a pair of glasses!”
Kara’s brows furrow deeper, not amused.
“How did I not see that the kindness, the sincerity, the insistence that I was not just another Luthor was a total act!” she continues to talk to it.
“It wasn’t an act--”
Lena brings the pillow close in her arms.
“Stopping by to bring me lunch, complimentary puff pieces, spin class, game nights. You’re so sweeeeeet,” she elongates, squeezing the pillow tight. “And beautiful. You know what you deserve? A kiss.”
Surely, this bit has spiraled out of Lena’s control. This entire night has. And were she sober enough to realize it, she’d catch herself before this next part. But she’s not and she’s wasted. And this pillow is the Kara she used to know, the Kara Lena used to pine for unconditionally, fantasizing what it might be like to just, lean over and...
She loses her balance as she places a wet one just under the glasses of her pillowcase and falls over on top of it. Incidentally, it’s the perfect size for snuggling, just like Kara herself, and her eyes flutter closed, warm and content.
“I’ll--I’ll go,” she hears a voice say.
“Kara?” Lena mumbles, face down in her pillow and not long for this world.
“Yeah?”
“I lo--I mean, I hate you.”
Kara sighs.
“I love you too, Lena.”
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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years
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Do you think you could write a piece about Harry and y/n having sex but she’s like really short and Harry is like throwing her around and just manhandling her and fucking destroying her guts but also make kinda fluffy pls😔👉👈
Welcome Home
Anonymous Said: Hi I’ve discovered this blog recently and can I please just take a moment to say Wow... you’re writing is amazing and your ideas and concepts are brilliant. I’m not sure if your taking requests or concepts but here’s an idea. SNL pilot Harry like with the grey hair and all coming home to his wife who misses him dearly after awhile followed by you know what. And if you could include size kink (I really liked that concept)
A/N: I’m so sorry it’s so late guys! Since I’ve been writing for a year now, I figured that I’d give an ‘Au’ a try. When I got this request, I was completely floored. Like holy shit, sexy ass older pilot!Harry, and small!Y/n. All of this is perfection and I love this so much! Enjoy🙃
4.7k words
Harry loved his job. He considered himself to be pretty lucky to have the ability to travel the world and see places he’d only dreamt of growing up. Even though he wasn’t in those places for an extended amount of time, simply being there was more than enough for Harry and it made him want to go back and explore. If he was lucky, he’d have multiple flights to the same place or longer layover in these But what Harry loved most about his job was the fact that he got to do it all with the love of his life. 
When you two first met, Harry’d been a pilot for some years and you were just hired for your job as a flight attendant. You knew that it wasn’t the most glamorous profession int the world, but you wanted to dip your toes into the pool of world travel, and this was the route you were taking to start. Before your first flight you’d asked around about the pilots for your flight and you were met with the same response each time. Everyone said that Harry was one of the nicest people in the world and was pretty good looking too, but his copilot was the person you were advised to try your best to avoid. Luckily, you only had to interact with Harry. Both you and Harry hated to say it and be all cliché, but from the moment you two laid eyes on and interacted with each other you both were hooked. Even though the both of you could’ve really used the entirety of your breaks to get some sleep, you and Harry couldn’t stop talking to each other. From that point on, the two of you became inseparable. During layovers that were more than just a couple hours and Harry had some spare time outside of his duties as pilot, the two of you would spend time together. You two were so caught up in each other and being together that you’d swap flights and breaks with the other flight attendants so that you and Harry could be together. And Harry did the same. He’d always put in a word with the people who made the schedules to ensure that he was flying the flights you were on or he’d try to get you on his flights. 
After constantly being on flights together and even running into each other during your times off, you and Harry were pretty convinced that you two should give a relationship a try. Even though there was a significant risk involved with starting a relationship with someone who was pretty much your boss and/or employee, you and Harry were willing to take that risk. And you two never looked back. In fact, disclosing you guys’ relationship made things way easier for you and Harry; you two were almost always on the same flights together. Now, you two are happily married and traveling the world together about 99% of the time. You both absolutely hated when the 1% times came around. You two became so used to being on the same flights that when you weren’t, you and Harry were a bit sad and even a little homesick believe it or not. This time unfortunately was Harry’s turn to fly without you. There wasn’t a moment on his trip that Harry didn’t miss you. He was focused on his job but he was still thinking about you. He was constantly wondering about what you were doing at home. When he took his break he just laid there and the cuddles and kisses he’d get if you were there with him. He also missed listening to your passenger horror stories and pushing you to just keep going. And on top of all that, Harry missed all the times you two would try to quietly go at it in the bathroom or crew resting area depending on whether or not you two were the only ones on break. Even though he was able to talk to you during his layover, he was counting the days and eventually hours until he came back home to you. As soon as he landed on the tarmac at the airport, Harry was on a mission to get home. After following all the necessary after flight procedure and filling out all of the necessary paperwork, Harry threw his bag into his car and sped home to you.
Surprisingly, Harry was able to get home and not get a ticket. He quickly pulls into the driveway and carries himself and his bag into the house. When he walks through the front door, Harry could immediately feel your presence. He could feel your warmth radiating through the entire house. All he had to do now as find you. Before checking upstairs, he makes his way around the main level of the house to look for you. As he exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hall, Harry could hear your soft hums getting louder and louder. When he reaches the laundry room, he sees you standing at the folding in the corner. Simply seeing you bought a big smile to his face. He then wastes no time coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your smaller body. 
“Honey I’m home.” Harry happily coos in your ear before pressing a soft kiss below it. When he does this, you turn around in his arms to get a better look at him. 
“Welcome home.” You whisper back to him, lifting yourself up onto your tips of your toes to bring your lips to his. As soon as your lips connect, the both of you release sighs of content. You two were back together. It doesn’t take long for Harry’s arms to tighten around your body and hoist you up onto the table behind you. The kiss lasts a little longer before you pull away from his lips. 
“How was your long haul without me?” You hum, sliding your hands up the lapels of his jacket.
“It was hell.” Harry says pointedly. 
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Was thinking about you the whole time.” Harry frowns a little at you to emphasize his point. 
“I missed you too baby.” You coo softly to him. You then reach up and pull the captains hat off of his head, sitting it down next to you before pushing your hands through his greying curls. When you two first met, he had some grey hairs here and there. But now they had taken over just about all of his head; and you were very into it. “Any annoying kids or weird old ladies?” You ask him. 
 “For the kids, I wouldn’t know. I like to stay in the front of the plane or the crew area.” Harry begins truthfully. “But as for the old ladies, they always want to break off a piece of this.” He continues smugly.
“Why would they want you? Do they wanna swap arthritis creams or something?” You joke with a laugh, watching his face fall in the process. 
“I will have you know that I’m considered a silver fox. And you know it.” Harry defends, slightly tilting his head up away from you. When he says this all you could do was pucker your lips and bite the inside of them because what he said was in fact true. You just couldn’t let him know that. “Now what’d you get into while I was gone?” Harry asks curiously with a smirk from his previous victory. 
“Did some stuff around the house and I did a little missing you retail therapy.” You reply happily. 
“So I take it that the credit card bill this month is gonna be a little higher than normal?” Harry asks suspiciously. 
“Just a little.” You whisper trying to undermine your shopping spree. 
“A little?” Harry asks you again, already knowing that you’re undermining how much you actually spent. 
“Mhm.” You mumble, nodding your head sweetly in the process. 
“You’re too cute and pretty for your own good.” Harry chuckles and shakes his head down at you. 
“You love it though.” You hum happily up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“I do.” Harry sighs contently. This is what he missed. He missed being in your arms and just loving on you. He loved seeing your smile and feeing your small arms wrap around him. “I actually bought you a couple things.” Harry whispers, tightening his grip around your back. 
“Is it more skimpy lingerie?” You question him, making sure to spread a wide smirk across your face. Instead of readily replying to you, Harry simply unwraps one of his arms from around your back and he brings it up to the front of your dress. Since the front of your dress was loosely wrapped around your body to keep it closed, Harry as able to simply pluck back the top a little to get a good look at your body beneath the fabric. 
“Well I guess this is my cue to stop buying the lingerie, since you’re not even wearing it.” Harry points out, looking down into your dress to find your bare, supple breasts resting on your chest. It took a lot of self control for Harry in that moment to not stick his hand down your dress to take your plushy flesh into his hand.
“Well I thought it was for our sexy times or when I send you pictures while you’re on a trip and on your break or stuck in a hotel room without me.” You explain to him. You even throw in a little pout; you wanted to keep your fancy and very pretty lingerie flow going. “But I am wearing one of the pairs of  panties you picked up in Italy if you wanna see how some of your purchases look on me.” You whisper lowly to him. You then use your arms that are hooked around his neck to pull his head down closer to yours. Harry was already a bit hard from finally being home with you. Now he was getting even harder from your words. 
“Is it bad that I’ve only been home for 20 minuets and I’m already thinking about completely ravishing you?” Harry mumbles against your pillow soft lips. “Just so pretty baby.” Harry grumbles frustratedly before bringing his mouth the rest of the way to yours while pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He couldn’t believe that he, a man who turned 40 a couple months prior, was getting all riled up and turned on the same way he did 20 plus years ago. That was just the age defying effect you had on him. 
“No, not at all.” You begin as you pull away from the short lived yet beyond passionate kiss, slowly bringing your left hand up the back of his neck to his hair. “In fact, every time I see you in your head to toe pilots get up, I’m always fighting the strong urge to fall to my knees and take your cock down my throat.” You bluntly continue, your voice filled with a very nonchalant and teasing tone. 
When this statement left your mouth, Harry was a little bit taken aback. But at the same time he wasn’t. After slowly building up your friendship that in no time blossomed into a more romantic relationship together, Harry was able to slowly show you the ropes so to speak and teach you just about everything you knew when it came to the bedroom and a happy and healthy relationship. When you two progressed to the more intimate stage of your budding relationship, you were pretty inexperienced. You didn’t know your way around the bedroom at all. You we’re still a virgin and you didn’t even know the ins and outs of making out with someone. All you knew was that this smart, extremely kind, absolutely gorgeous, and just overall stunning human being, older man who just so happened to be the pilot on your flight had taken a strong interest in you. And luckily for you, your lack of experience was the least of his concerns. It was like you hit the jackpot with him. Fast forward to now when you two are a married couple, you’ve taken all of the tips and tricks he’s taught over time and you’re running with it. Harry wasn’t the only who had the ability to do things to your body that would make your toes to curl, your entire body to go numb, and cause your mind to deem it all indescribable. You also had the ability to turn Harry into a pleasured, borderline incoherent, and moaning mess; something that most women in his past who were his age or slightly older weren’t even able to do. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that those words came from your mouth.
“Who knew that my pretty little wife had such a filthy mouth.” Harry gasps with a condescending tone.
“Well I’m not a prudish old man like you.” You simply reply. This was the button in Harry that you loved to push. 
“I don’t know where you’re getting that from but I’m far from prudish and I’m definitely not an old man.” Harry says matter of factly. “If I remember it correctly, I made you wear vibrating panties for the entirety of an 18 hour flight.” Harry recalls, making his point against being called prudish. 
“Everyone uses those. Especially older men.” You smugly whisper back, pushing even harder on this button of his. 
Harry knew exactly what you were doing. He knew that you were pushing his button so that he’d unleash everything he had built up over the course of his trip into you. It didn’t take much for him to realize that you wanted him to really make up for not being with you for almost a week. The both of you were itching to feel and be around each other again. After you and Harry made it past the learning and teaching phase of you guys’ sex life, the two of you acquired a constant hunger for one another. When you and Harry had some time off, the sex would be nonstop. Whether it was cockwarming or full on sex where you’re riding his cock or he was slamming himself deep into your pussy, you and Harry were always looking for ways to be around each other like this. And it was exactly the same when you two were on the job. Even though you two didn’t have the freedom to go at it whenever you wanted, you and Harry still found ways to be with each other. For some reason, seeing each other dressed in your uniforms was a bit of a turn on. It didn’t help that the both of you were borderline thrill seekers and loved the rush that came along with trying to be quiet as you both were experiencing some of the best pleasure you’d ever felt.
“Well do all older men pound and shove their cocks into their girlfriends, and now wives tight little cunts over and over again until she’s begging and crying for him to slow down and let them cum? Because if not, I’ve got countless stories about me doing that to you in the cramped bathroom on a flight, in restaurant bathrooms, dressing rooms, upstairs, on the couch, the kitchen counter, right here on this table, and many other places.” Even though you acted confident and enjoyed battling Harry for dominance, you were able to easily fall into a more submissive role. The way he’s calmly able to say the filthiest things made your body quake and your panties become even more soaked than they already were. You were never going to be able to forget about all of those times. How and why would you ever forget the times where he’s hoisted you up against a door or a wall, or pushed you down against the counter, tightly wrapped a hand around your mouth to keep you quiet, and deliciously slammed his cock up into you? If you focused in on those memories, you could remember and almost feel him inside you.
That’s what you wanted right now. You wanted him to pound into you so hard that you’d a sore, moaning mess and you wanted to make up for the time you two weren’t together. This was the first time in a good while that you weren’t scheduled for a flight with Harry and you really missed him. And his cock. So if you had to push one of his buttons to really get what you both wanted, you were going to do it. 
“Well I think you guys can do that,” You begin, pausing to run your hands down from his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders. “I just think that you may need a little help if you know what I mean.” You finish. When you say this, Harry knows exactly what you were implying and he wasn’t having any of it. 
“You and this pretty little body of yours is gonna get it.” Harry growls before yanking you up from the table and pulling you into his body. He quietly marches you both up the stairs and to your shared bedroom. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he releases his once tight grip on your body and drops you down onto the bed. He continues to go about everything silently, shoving his jacket off of his shoulders and working on his tie and shirt.
“You look really hot in that uniform just so you know.” You admire from the bed below him. You watch him chuckle at your statement as he shrugs his shirt and undone tie off his body. You were really turned on right now. Like the sight of his bare, toned and tattooed chest and arms was a sight you could stare at forever. Add onto that the fact that he was mad and taking control over you and you were setup to be a complete mess. And your panties could definitely attest to that. You were completely drenched and dying to feel him against and inside you. 
“You don’t have to butter me up baby.” Harry begins as he undoes his shoes. “M’still gonna take care of you and that smart mouth of yours.” Harry guarantees, shoving his shoes and socks off his feet and standing back up to work on his pants. “Gonna make sure you know what I can do to you.” Harry finishes, finally undoing his belt and shoving his pants along with his boxers down his legs. When you see his thick and very hard cock, you couldn’t stop a moan or two from escaping your mouth. “I take it someone needs my cock.” Harry chuckles at your desperation for his cock. He planned on showing you just how much you needed him. He then comes closer to the edge of the bed and in one swift motion, Harry pulls you up from your lying position and flips you onto your front. He masterfully undoes the tie on the back of your dress and he flips you back onto your back. He tugs at the fabric, opening your dress and exposing your partially naked body to him. He takes a moment to admire your body and all he could do is bite his lip. He couldn’t believe that he managed to be away from this for nearly an entire week. 
Harry quickly snaps out of his trance when he feels his cock twitch slightly and he leans down to scoop you up into his arms. When he does this, Harry keeps you low in his grip so that you’d be right against his cock. He keeps one arm securely around your body and pulls your arms from the dress. Once it’s completely off of you, he drops it into the pile of his clothes and drops you back onto the bed. Before crawling up and on top of you, Harry uses your claves to push you a little higher up onto the bed and to flip you back onto your stomach. When he does this, you really know you’re in for it. Whenever you were in this position Harry really made sure to slam into you and make you scream. When he crawls up and is on top of you from behind, he wastes no time in ripping the barely there panties off your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry didn’t snap the delicate undergarment in half. Once they’re out of the way, Harry has complete access to your body.
“Gonna be a good girl and take daddy’s cock?” Harry asks, squeezing the flesh of your ass before raising it up just to crash it back down.
“Mhm.” You whimper, really feeling the sting from the sudden slap.
“Use your words.” Harry demands, raising his hand back up to deliver another slap to your backside. 
“Yes daddy.” You cry out to him, this time feeling not only the sting of his slaps but also feeling of your juices dripping onto the sheets.
“Good girl.” Harry hums at your response. He then straddles your thighs, wanting to keep you in place when he pushes into you. He lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you, and he grips onto his cock to give himself a good squeeze, resulting in him letting out a loud grumble behind you (that went straight to your clit). He tightly grips onto the flesh of one of your cheeks and he pulls your ass apart to get a better view of you. When he sees your puckered hole, Harry gets a little idea. In the process of lining himself up with your entrance, Harry uses his cock to put a little pressure on your tighter hole. When he does this, words begin to pour out of your mouth. 
“M’too tight daddy.” You rush out to him, trying to stop his actions. Harry knew that you were too tight for him at the moment, but he just liked to work you up a little and hear you beg.
“Don’t worry baby. When were done, daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready for his cock.” He promises, lowering his cock from your second hole down to the first. When you feel his thick head nudging at your entrance, your moans got louder. You needed him to be inside you already. 
“Want your big cock daddy.” You beg. You try to move back against him but he’s practically sitting on your thighs, which is pinning you to the bed. 
“Whats the magic word?” Harry teases.
“Please daddy?” And with that, Harry is finally sinking his cock into you. When you feel his cock stretching you to fit all of him, your mind goes blank. All you could come up with was strings of loud moans and feeling good. You felt full agains which was all you really wanted. As he continues to sheath his cock with your walls, Harry’s hand leaves his shaft and goes right to your other cheek. He pulls your ass completely apart and watches as his cock disappears into you.
“That’s it, take this cock sweetheart.” Harry pants in amazement. He was still in awe at how a small woman like you was able to take every last inch of his manhood. Once he’s fully inside, Harry’s eyes trail up your body to find you resting your cheek against the sheets with your mouth wide open. Thats what he wanted to see. Keeping his hands on your ass, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you and goes straight into slamming in and out of your tight and very wet pussy. As he does this, your entire body quakes at the amazing sensation of him fucking you. Feeling him pound into your stomach as he called you his sweet girl and his pretty little wife was beyond extraordinary. You could feel the familiar tight and warm knot beginning to form in the pit of your stomach already.
As Harry fucks into you, he’s beyond turned on. The way you’re pinned below him as he shoves his cock deep into you along with you pitifully whimpering, moaning, and crying at how good he felt was really doing things to Harry. He never wanted to be away from you ever again. He wanted to feel you every single day.
After fucking into you from behind for a good while and feeling the tight burning sensation forming in the pit of his stomach as well, Harry figures that he’s going to cum soon and he wants to watch your face twist as he does. He then proceeds to stop thrusting all together and pull out of you, which causes you to grumble, resulting in you receiving a hard “shut up” slap to your ass. He then gets lifts himself off of you and flips tugs you onto your back. He knocks your legs apart and gets in between them before slamming his cock back into you.
“Like this baby. Like it when daddy takes control of this tight little cunt of yours?” He pants, continuing to slam his his cock into you. You were too caught up in how good he was making you feel that you couldn’t even form a worded response. All you could do was thrash your head against the bed in agreement. When he sees this, a very wide smirk rises to his face. This is exactly what he missed and wanted to see. You taking all of his cock while you’re quivering and barely holding on. As he continues, Harry can feel the warmth from the pit of his stomach spreading to his entire body, signifying to him that his release was getting extremely close. Judging by the way your once tight grip on the sheets has gone loose, your pitiful whimpers, and the way you’re tightening up around him you’re feeling the exact same way. To make you cum around his cock, with him following right behind you Harry only has to do two things. First, he brings his palm to your lower stomach and presses it into you; putting pressure on the warm knot that was about to explode and allowing him to feel his cock moving inside you. He then comes down, bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper one thing into your ear. “Not too bad for an old man right?” Harry hums patronizingly into your ear. He wanted you to eat your words. And you were. His words, the pressure from his hand, and his cock causes you to burst at the seams around him. You let out a mixture of gasps and whimpers as you completely let go around Harry’s cock. When he feels your walls contracting around him, Harry lets go as well. He releases every last drop of the sexual frustration he’d been carrying around all week; and it felt so good. He loved painting your walls with his cum.
Once the both of you are done and it’s safe to pull out, Harry’s slowly pulls his sopping wet cock from your cunt and collapses onto the bed next to you. 
“Harry, I can’t feel my legs.” You whimper after a couple minuets of silence. 
“M’surprised you’re not used to it by now.” Harry hums smugly. Once he says this, a temporary lull fell over you two. You and Harry were very anxious to go at it again, but you two were holding off to see who would initiate round two. 
“Did you take something before you came in the house?” You whisper over to him, deciding that you needed to be the one to initiate round two.
“Do I need to come over there and shove my cock down that pretty throat of yours for you to get the point?” Harry chuckles at your persistence. 
“Only if you want to.” You whisper sweetly. 
“Oh I want to, and don’t you doubt that.” Harry says matter of factly. 
“Well can we cuddle first? Haven’t cuddled since the night before you left.”
“Anything you want.” Harry coos before moving closer to your limp body. 
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oliviayamaoka · 3 years
Text
The Distraction Continuation (Ghostface / Jed Olsen / Danny Johnson x Reader)
As requested, this is a continuation of the Distraction fic I made. Check out the first fic if you haven’t already. Enjoy! :)
You sighed deeply as you crossed your arms, shutting your eyes in slight annoyance at what was to come. Another trial. You hadn’t been in one for a while but your break was rather short-lived. There were three others that stood by your side. Ace Visconti, David King, and Yui Kimura. You respected them and actually enjoyed their company. Ace was funny, David taught you a couple of things, and Yui was always nice to you, encouraging you.
“Where do you think we’ll go this time?” Yui asked you, nudging your elbow with her own. You instantly lit up. Human interaction was comforting.
“Haven’t been to Hawkins or Glenvale in a bit.” Y/N replied with a slight shrug.
“My bet is the asylum.” Ace interrupted, pointing finger guns with that stupid smirk of his. Yui rolled her eyes, she didn’t seem to like Ace very much. Not since he flirted with her one time, even if it was jokingly.
“We might actually be there if Ace himself says so.” David said as the familiar gust of air surrounded the four of you.
You shut your eyes tightly, getting chills from the cold fog and air. The smell of fire and spring overcame you. Y/N opened their eyes, realizing that Ace’s bet was right. As always. A small laugh escaped your lips, a feeling of enjoyment before all hell could break loose again. 
Your gaze averted to the familiar structure of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. A sound played in your head, the screech of the Nurse. You were always curious about her but never got the chance to even talk to her unlike... no, it was one time. You weren’t gonna go around and try talk to killers like you did with him.
You put your palm to your forehead, cringing at the memory. Not in a bad way but maybe you could’ve done something differently. No, not really. Jed was a psychopath, a murderer. He was charming in a fucked up sort of way. You sighed as you walked towards a generator behind the grey brick walls.
There wasn’t any indication that it was the Pig or Freddy, thankfully. You began to work on the generator. Your thoughts turned to the fear of being hooked, stabbed, and hurt. You shuddered at the thought of it, the feeling of the hook would probably never leave you. Death was forever here, unfortunately. Elodie and Felix’s conversation had given you hope, maybe there was a way out of here.
“Shit.” You mumble as you shielded your eyes from the small explosion. 
Y/N huffed. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself and began again. Your head perked up as you heard stomping. It wasn’t loud enough to be the Oni or Trapper.
You kept a head on the generator as you noticed a dark figure stomping towards you. You needed a moment to process the situation. It was Ghostface? Oh shit, it was him, you thought. Flashbacks of your last encounter played in your head, he was definitely pissed off and you couldn’t blame it at this point.
“Don’t fucking try it.” He muttered in reference to you breaking into a sprint.
You felt panic wash over you as you quickly observed your surroundings. There weren’t any nearby pallets or vaults, it was a random open area near a hill with a chest and hook. Perfect, just perfect. Ghostface was quicker than usual, he grabbed you by the waist aggressively to tackle you down.
Ghostface held a knife to the back of your head once you hit the ground. You grunted as he put down all his weight onto you and assured that you wouldn’t be able to escape. The ground felt so uncomfortable, especially against your face. There was a few moments of you struggling beneath him to escape but it became no use. You stopped struggling after he pressed the blade against your skin.
“Didn’t bring a toolbox this time, Y/N?” He asked mockingly, pressing his gloved finger over the small slit. You winced at the stinging sensation but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.
“You know how to hold a grudge, Jed.” You replied. You were utterly terrified yet you always felt the need to reply to his stupid remarks.
“Indeed I do.” He replied, grabbing you and making you stand up. He held the knife to your back and pressed it slightly.
Ghostface was actually angry. He didn’t seem to mind actually hurting you or pressing the knife into your skin. You gasped at the painful sensation as he looked around, he saw the killer shack. He held a tight grip on your shoulder as he forced you to walk that way.
You instantly knew where he wanted to go. You just hoped the basement wasn’t there. Of course, you had known that this day would eventually come. But, why now? It was such awful timing, especially with the blue mood you had. Once the two of you reached the shack, he shoved you onto the ground aggressively.
“You’re pathetic... talking and talking last time we met. Now, you’re just a shitty excuse for a survivor.” He said to you. You scoffed.
“If it helps, Jed, I’m sorry.” Y/N replied. Your hand reached to the back of your neck where he had cut you. There wasn’t much blood but it still hurt. You stared at your bloodied fingertips as the man got more infuriated.
“You don’t get to call me that. And why the fuck are you apologizing?” He questioned you. His tone was venomous, this terrified you but him killing you was inevitable and well... you wanted to see him, anyways.
“If you didn’t care, you’d have hooked me now. I must’ve really hurt your feelings, huh?” You said, half-jokingly but you were also genuine.
“I don’t care.” He replied to you almost instantly. You knew that was a lie.
“Then why won’t you hook me? You could’ve slashed my back open but instead you pinned me to the ground... weirdo.” You mumbled.
He fell silent for a second. Ghostface was a bit baffled by you. Why weren’t you begging for your life? The version he remembered of you was different, or maybe he killed too many survivors that would beg. Not only that but he planned this out thoroughly. He was practically counting on you to scream and beg for your life. Ghostface had even made an offering for this realm because he researched it extensively, as he did with most of his previous murders.
Despite what he may have thought, Y/N was absolutely terrified. However, there was a strange feeling of attraction to him. Not necessarily a crush just yet but there was also a rivalry in which you felt comfortable talking to him. He felt like a real person. Well, of course he was a real person but you had no trouble making shitty remarks to him.
“I want this to last because you were being a little bitch last time. I’ve been dying to slice you open and make you regret that stupid little stunt you pulled.” He said to you.
You sat up, bringing one knee to your chest casually. There was a feeling of bravery that washed over you like last time. Y/N sighed deeply and looked around the shack. It was a basic shake. No totem, no gen.
“Yeah, sure... then do it.” You said to him.
“You’re not making this any easier.” He replied, more annoyed with you.
“Nothing you do is gonna make me regret what I did. Even if you do kill me and make me suffer, I’m still gonna come back alive. I’ve been puked on, trapped, and even had some weird ass trap put onto my head.” You said, standing up and pointing your finger to his chest.
“But you, Danny, only have a knife. I know the Legion or whatever their names are can use that better than you. You’re just a weirdo with a mask.” Y/N finished.
Ghostface seemed rather stunned, yet offended. Mainly because he couldn’t doubt anything you said. It became known that the Legion studied the human anatomy extensively, more than Danny ever cared to do. His area of expertise was stalking and memorizing a person’s schedule. But still. his ego was always bigger than any logic. The cloaked man grabbed your wrist. He oddly didn’t grab it too tight, he lifted your arm over your head.
“And what does that make you? I’m still better than you to some degree. You’re trapped here because the Entity thinks you deserve it and I get to kill anybody I desire.” He said, the tip of his blade poking your stomach.
“I guess we’re both shitty people.” You shrugged as his grip somewhat loosened. He sighed deeply before throwing you towards the generator.
“I had hoped killing you would be satisfying.” He muttered, bitter that your reaction wasn’t what he imagined. You fixed your shirt slightly and leaned against the generator. A part of slowly began to accept the growing crush you developed on the strange murderer, you didn’t care at this point since you were damned to an eternity of trials. 
“It probably would’ve been if you weren’t so easy to talk to.” You said to him as he snapped his head towards you, confused for a moment. Easy to talk to? He scoffed in response.
“Easy? You’re the fucking weirdo here.” He said, with a bit of a defeated tone.
“You’re no ladykiller, Danny, but... I’m charmed. I guess it’s something killers like you do though.” You said to him.
“I don’t charm or seduce people. I watch them.” He corrected you.
“Explains a lot.” You said, looking at your nails. Ghostface was quick to give into his ego and crossed his arms in a very stubborn manner.
“Actually, I did. As Jed Olsen, anyways. People were so trusting of him and neglected to suspect the new guy in town. It made it easy to watch people and I had a lot of excuses to spend hours doing so.” He said to you.
“Jed sounds nice.” Y/N shrugged.
“Well, Jed isn’t real, babe. He’s a shitty facade of what people like in a person. Made it so much easier for myself.” Ghostface said.
“Okay then,.. what did you do? As a career?” You asked him.
“I was a journalist and wrote for the Roseville Gazette. They made me cover my own killings and I did a good job doing so. Nobody could really understand my work though, no matter how much I tried to when I was Jed.” He said, a proud tone in his voice as he spoke. You were weirded out and cautious but you wanted to try and understand him.
“So, is that why you do it? For art?” You asked him as his head perked.
“That’s exactly why! There’s something very beautiful about the redness unique to somebody pouring out of them, even mixing with others. Not only that but just toying around and seeing how loud one can scream. Each scream is so unique and different. And just like art, you can fix your mistakes if it isn’t done right.” He explained, he seemed more relaxed. 
“Fix? But wouldn’t they be dead?” You asked him, genuinely confused. 
“You have to be an expert craftsman to fix it. A scream is a delicacy, something I choose not to indulge myself in often. Y’know, don’t want anybody hearing what goes on. When I do want to hear the screaming, it’s usually when my target has piqued my interest or mildly annoyed me. It feels rewarding after going through all the effort to memorize their lifestyle.” He said.
“A weird but cool way of looking at it, I suppose.” Y/N said. 
You didn’t really care about morality at this point. Such things as the Entity exist, anyways, You weren’t sure what you did to deserve being stranded here. Even if you did have a weird romantic interest in him, so what? Why would the Entity care? Why would any Gods care? And even then, you seemed to have an interest in his hobby. Blood and killing didn’t faze you anymore.
“You think so?” He asked you. 
“Depends on the person, I guess. I’d only do it to bad people.” You said.
“But, you’d do what I do?” He asked you.
“Yeah...?” You responded. Danny seemed a bit giddy.
“How would you do it?” Ghostface asked, he seemed way too excited to hear about your non-existent methods of killing.
“I don’t know...” Y/N replied, feeling somewhat flustered by how close he was to you. It was a different type of feeling when he wasn’t trying to stab you. 
“If you want, I could show you some pictures and give you tips.” He said.
“And kill who? We’re stuck in this hellhole.” You reminded him.
“What about the other survivors? They can’t all be innocent.” Ghostface said to you. He had some appreciation for you since you listened. It was crazy how much this strange man can switch up.
“No, never. I’m not that crazy.” You said as the loud horn of the exit gates blared. You looked around, really surprised. He seemed just as surprised.
“That long?” He questioned. 
“Guess I’m just that good of a distraction.” You said to him as he silently sighed in frustration but didn’t seem to care. A part of him enjoyed your talk.
“Guess you’re gonna be my one kill.” He said, shifting towards you and pushing you against the wall. You were taken aback by his swift movement.
You squirmed against his body, somewhat sliding downwards so kicking was pretty much useless unless you wanted to completely fall. The two of you grunted quietly as he turned you around, shoving your face against the hard wall. It was uncomfortable but he wasn’t being as rough as he usually was. At this point, you were scared of his knife so you tried pulling his hands away from you in the awkward position. Ghostface tightly pinned one of your arms on your back, you winced as he tugged on your hair.
He leaned inwards, poking his head towards your neck and hair. Ghostface took a moment to memorize your scent and what your hair texture might have felt like. For some strange reason, he seemed to want to learn everything about you. It might have been a bad idea for you to have opened him up about his art.
“Get off of me.” You demanded in a stern voice.
“You’re scaring me, Y/N.” He replied sarcastically. 
You froze up when he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingertips trailing on your back. It wasn’t the motion itself but rather the feeling of his ungloved hand. You felt yourself go into a rather catatonic state, not in fear but you were quick to wonder why he would take his glove off. A thousand thoughts and scenarios played in your mind. His touch was soft but still managed to leave you with chills. 
Ghostface, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He made notes of how soft your skin felt, his hand curiously wandered upwards. It wasn’t long before his hand wandered to your more sensitive areas. A gasp escaped your mouth as kept you pinned with his knees, his hands groping you a bit more roughly. Your face heated up when he squeezed you, you didn’t seem to struggle either. 
“Fuck...” You whispered.
“If only we had the time.” He mumbled, sticking three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. Your eyes rested as you stared upwards, allowing him to continue touching you. 
“I bet you’re getting all excited over this... if only I could capture the look on your face right now. How does it feel? Having somebody like me have their way?” He asked you. You felt aroused yet ashamed to oblige him.
“It feels good...” You managed to say, his fingers still in your mouth.
You felt the bulge in his crotch grow hard but this wasn’t the time or place. As much as he wanted to fuck you then and there, he needed to have some control over himself. He pulled his hands away and slid his glove back on. You let out a sigh of relief but also a whine. You knew just as much as he did that it just wasn’t the right time. You wiped the saliva from your lips and slowly stood up.
He pulled you backwards by your waist. You felt him rub his knife near your crotch, gliding it teasingly. His other hand wrapped around your neck. You heard him chuckle rather darkly. At this point, you seemed more hot and bothered than he was. Ghostface squeezed your neck a little harder, wanting to get one last sound of of you before he let you go. He didn’t care whether or not the Entity would be displeased or not.
“Guess you’ll have to be a whore some other time.” He said, cutting you on the arm slightly. You pulled your arm away quickly.
“Whatever.” You replied, flustered by his comment. Did that just happen?
“Better go before the Entity kills you itself.” He said to you.
“Right, right... see you around, Danny.” You said before quickly walking away and then running towards the exit gates. 
His head tilted curiously. Ghostface wasn’t sure if he had feelings or not. He admired you for listening to him and asking some questions though. But, now that he knew you’d do things with him willingly, he had some ideas. A wide smile grew behind his mask as he began to fantasize about the photos he would eventually take. 
You would probably come to regret your actions, seeing as his obsession with you would grow. Danny needed to know everything about you and even felt a bit possessive now. It didn’t matter, there was many possibilities within the Fog. Pray that you’ll be ready for your next meeting.
NOTE: Currently writing a full fledged Danny fic with a different plot but have the sequel to the Distraction. Ty for reading!
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jjuzoir · 3 years
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Boyfriend! Itadori Yuji
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request: no...! Hahaha :’)
word count: 1231
a/n: Look... i know i have requests okay hhh It’s just... i’ve been suffering from Yuji Brainrot recently 😿 anyway! drinking game ! how many times do i call or compare yuji to a puppy! i’m pushing an agenda onto you all
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- Let’s get this out of the way, once Itadori falls - he falls hard. He’s not the type to get involved with anyone seriously, mostly because he just doesn’t really think he has the time (even though he totally has), the reality is; he isn’t really interested in a relationship. He’s happy with his life and getting the occasional crush on someone or a new celebrity crush after watching a movie.
- So when he finds himself crushing on you for a long period of time, you’ve basically got yourself your own puppy.
- It takes him some time to realize he’s interested romantically in you and he’s actually thinking about getting into a relationship, but once he does he doesn’t really see the point in taking much longer.
- He’ll be kind of awkward asking you out, but it’s cute! He’s energetic about it and he stutters a bit at first but when he finally gets it out he’s kind of excited - until he realizes there’s a chance you might say no. So please say yes and fast because he’s thinking about how Kugisaki and Fushiguro are gonna snicker at him and pity him for getting rejected after being totally sure of himself a few hours ago.
- And when you do say yes? He’s beaming, he’s shining – the sun was found jobless.
- He’s a sucker for you wearing his clothes. He finds it so cute to see you wearing something that’s his, he says it ends up smelling like you and it makes him all soft and warm when you give back a shirt or hoodie you’d been using and it smells like you.
- Nobara calls him disgusting because he genuinely doesn’t want to wash his clothes because they smell like you.
- His favorite dates are the ones where you stay at home and play video games or watch movies. He loves just being there with you and cuddling you close, it’s such a contrast from always being on a mission with his friends and Gojo. He can pretend everything is normal again when he’s with you.
- He also loves arcade dates! If Yuji can show off he will. His favorite is dancing with you in Dance Dance Revolution, he’ll hug you from behind and sway around and giggle while you’re both screaming because neither of you can get the steps right because you’re laughing too much.
- Itadori is such a big cuddle bug, he loves waking up early on Saturday and having you hugging him in your sleep. He’s like a magnet because wherever you are he’ll be there trying to throw himself on top of you to cuddle. He’s always got an arm around you or trying to wiggle himself into your arms, it’s really cute – he likes being in your arms, it’s just so fun to be hugged by you
- Whenever you sleep over, he likes having you rest your head on his chest or resting his head on yours. If he’s feeling overwhelmed, Itadori might just ask you to hold him – which means he wants to hug your waist and listen to your heartbeat while you play with his hair until you both fall asleep.
- He loves picking you up in his arms, no matter how tall you are or how much you weigh he’s absolutely carrying you in his arms while giving you surprise kisses on the forehead or cheek.
- He has you saved as something like “The Love Of My Life 💕✨” and wants you to have him saved as “The Light Of My Life 👑💕”, if you ask him to change it he’ll sulk a bit and whine about how it’s cute and romantic and it shows he cares a lot – you ask if he isn’t embarrassed and he nods; “But it shows I care :(“
- Let him keep it like that you monster.
-Has a candid of you doing something super boring like… algebra 2 as his lock-screen, it’s probably not even a good picture. Like, it’s probably kind of shaky since he had to take it fast before you question him, the sun blocks the background and you look like you haven’t seen the light of day in years. But you’re smiling, and he remembers very well why; it was the day he told you he loved you for the first time. And he doesn’t care if it’s a bad photo or if it’s cheesy, he likes it a lot and he looks at it whenever he’s feeling down.
- Anyway! Puppy boyfriend! Literally! Yuji is the type of boyfriend that can’t stand being away from you for too long, so whenever he sees you again he’s jumping into your arms and squeezing the life out of you.
- “[Name],” he whined as he nuzzled into your cheek, Nobara was cracking up as she filmed while Megumi tried not to look too disgusted, “I missed you!”
- “‘Ji, I went out for takeout?”
- “Took too long.”
- “I was gone for less than twenty minutes?”
- “Too long.” He looked up at you from his position in your chest and it took everything in you not to coo and pet him.
- “I’ll… I’ll try to be faster.” You mumble embarrassed.
- Yuki is also a good cook, since he was with his grandfather and that man looks like he can’t even boil an egg — it’s safe to assume Yuji taught himself how to cook.
- The granny’s probably felt bad and gave him a bunch of recipes and spices and tips for his food. What I’m saying is Itadori makes perfect comfort food. He’s also good at cleaning when he wants to be, he took care of his grandpa’s place and got a bunch of advice from the neighbors.
- He’s a teenage boy though so he’s lazy like most of the time and just takes out the trash and makes sure the place isn’t reeking, but if he really wanted to he could – all you have to say is; “Yuji, my place is getting kinda messy, don’t you think?” super casually and he’s on his way to put music and dance while dusting gl ur shelves.
- Itadori is a good dancer too! Look at him, he’s peak dancer material. On lazy days, he loves grabbing your waist suddenly and moving around, little twirls here and there while he tells you about what he’s been up to. There’s no music, only the sound of your feet tapping the ground in a lazy rhythm neither of you cares for. You can spend up to hours there just moving carelessly.
- Smells like warm laundry, I’m talking; you just took your clothes from the dryer and you're folding them and you press a shirt to your chest and catch a whiff of the softener.
- Let’s you style his hair with butterfly clips and hair ties, will go on missions with them on. Sukuna hates it because no one takes him seriously with two little ponytails sticking from his head like antennas but after a while he just grew so tired of ripping them from his head after every takeover he just began dealing with it.
- Will eat anything you make him, you could make the most abhorrent piece of cooking ever seen, I’m talking you could’ve made Gordon Ramsay cry from sheer desperation, and Yuji will eat with a little smile on his face because: “Look my s/o cooked it for me, aren’t they so talented? :D”
- Puppy boyfriend Yuji, everyone.
266 notes · View notes
taechaos · 3 years
Text
Freaky Idea
Pt. 2 of New Idea
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pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader
genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut
synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.
warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation
word count: 3.8k
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When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.
The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.
The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.
The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.
Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 
“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”
“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.
His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”
“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”
"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"
"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 
“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 
He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.
“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 
“The fridge is fucking empty!”
“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”
“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”
The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 
He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”
A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 
“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.
“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 
Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.
A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 
“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”
You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.
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Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?
“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 
“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 
“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”
He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.
“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”
“Deformed fetuses?”
“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 
“Are these real stories?” 
“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.
Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 
“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”
He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”
You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 
“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”
He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 
“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”
“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”
“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”
You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.
“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”
“Police intervention?”
“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”
“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”
“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”
“Ride you?”
“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”
“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 
“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.
“No…”
“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”
You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”
“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”
“You did it once!”
“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”
You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”
“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”
Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 
While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.
“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”
You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 
“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”
You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”
And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 
“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”
It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 
Could it be that you’re two of the same?
Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.
It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”
“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”
“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”
His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 
“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”
“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 
“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 
“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”
“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”
Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”
It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 
419 notes · View notes
seriouslysnape · 3 years
Note
With a student aged Sev, could you do one where the school is having a ball, and it’s girl’s choice where the girls are the ones who ask for dates. Sev hears a rumor or something that his friend that he loves has asked some other guy, so he’s devastated. In reality, that’s not true, and she’s always planned on asking him, but has just been busy. He’s all down, but then can’t believe it once she asks and is unbelievably excited and stressed over what to wear and so on. And the ending is just a lot of fluff and romance, please?
SO. CUTE. I actually got a little emotional writing this, hahahahah. 
(Below the cut) :)
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The Spring Formal
Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2,191
“How many times have we heard things about other students that weren’t true?”
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It had been all the rage through Hogwarts for the last couple of weeks. Hogwarts was hosting a spring ball, somewhat similar to the Yule Ball that always took place in the winter. Hogwarts’ witches and wizards would dress in their most formal clothes and have the time of their lives for one night of the year. Young wizards would shake in their robes when trying to ask their witch of choice to accompany them. 
However, everyone soon learned that there was a catch. 
For this dance, the girls were to ask the boys.It was a totally different idea than everyone was used to. All the boys were on their best behavior in hopes that they could get the attention of the cute girl from their Potions or Charms class. It was a totally exciting role reversal.
The only person who wasn’t thrilled about this was young seventh year Severus Snape.
Severus had always been reserved, and everyone knew it. He kept his head lowered at all times and only spoke when spoken to (and sometimes not even that). He was textbook insecure and doubtful of everything about himself. He was sure that no girl would want to go with him, but there was one that he desperately wanted the hand of. You had been his friend for years now. You were strikingly different than he was, which is why he supposed he was just so fond of you. 
He could only ever dream of being as outgoing as you were. With this hope in mind, he found himself in your presence more than usual.He would walk you to your classes that you didn’t have together, sit next to you in the classes that you did, and even carry your books for you most days. He tried to be more talkative, striking up conversations that he normally wouldn’t. 
He would compliment your outfit and ignore the burning blush that embarrassedly appeared on his cheeks when he did so. He wanted nothing more than to go to this spring formal with you. That wish fizzled out into disappointment, however, when he heard some classmates talking in his Potions class. 
“Can you believe that she asked Remus Lupin to the dance?” A young Slytherin boy said from in front of Severus.
His friend leaned over, matching his friend’s whisper, but still loud enough that Severus could hear every unmistakable word.
“Yeah, I know. [Y/N] had the pick of the litter and that’s who she went with? It’s a bloody shame. I could’ve shown her a better time.” He sneered.
Severus felt his heart seemingly sink into his shoes. It was true that lots of wizards were hoping you’d ask them. You were rather popular after all and stunningly beautiful. Severus had just had a glimmer of hope that you would’ve seen something a little different in him. That you’d want to ask him over everybody else. He supposed he was wrong.
In his saddened focus, he accidentally tipped over his cauldron spilling the beginnings of whatever potion he had been making. The class erupted into laughter, causing the tears that were already stinging at Severus’ eyes to go spilling down his pale cheeks. He ran out of the class in a hurry, not wanting to see anyone for the rest of the day. His robes were drenched with this sticky potion, the bottoms of his shoes making this horrible squelching noise with each step he took. He was zooming through the halls to get back to the Slytherin tower, but stopped when he bumped into someone else. 
He didn’t bother with an apology, but felt his blood run cold when he saw it was you.You briefly shook your head to recover from almost getting knocked over, smiling casually when you saw it was him.
“Woah, hey, Severus!” You piped, readjusting your own robes.
Your smile faded into a frown when you saw the orange colored potion dripping from his clothes, and his reddened, glassy eyes. Before you could ask, he brushed you off and ran down the hall.
“I have to go.”
He was hurt, and now dreading going to this dance alone. He avoided you at all costs now, which you noticed was odd in comparison to the way he had been right on your heels. You tried to reach out to him, but he just gave you the cold shoulder at every attempt. The next week went by, and the more people that had dates, the more irritated Severus became. It was already bad enough that he had a hateful passion for Remus Lupin, along with his other friends that made their lives about torturing Severus. 
You were so kind, so loving. He couldn’t make sense of how you could possibly go with someone like him. The dance was only two days away now, and Severus was beginning to toy with the idea of not going at all. He didn’t want to be the only one without a date, and he definitely didn’t want to be alone all night. He sulked as he fiddled with a stick out near the Quidditch fields. 
He sometimes liked to get away from the castle when things were rough. He lazily dragged the stick through the dirt, poking at a small beetle as it scuttled by with a fellow pal.
Lucky beetle.
He sighed heavily as he continued to pout, almost not noticing the new presence that had placed themself next to him. He looked over hesitantly, and had to fight the urge to get up and leave without saying a word. But you just looked so concerned that he couldn’t bring himself to go. So he stayed put, but returned his gaze to the stick in his hand.
“Hello.” He said dryly.
“Hi,” You acknowledged him. A silence went by, so you pressed on; “You want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lied.
You scoffed, forcing him to look at you.
“Please. You know you’ve been ignoring me. If I’ve done something, I want you to tell me.” You said almost as a plea.
Now it was his turn to scoff with a scowl.
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Since he’s so interesting and all.” He barked, tossing the stick away in an aggravated manner.
You were annoyed with his tone, but more confused as to what he was he was on about. You furrowed your brows and scrunched your nose at him.
“What?” You queried, completely lost; “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“So I guess your date to the dance is just a friend?” He asked sarcastically.
You were beyond puzzled. Boyfriend? Date to the dance? Where was he coming up with this stuff?
“Severus, enough. Just tell me what you’re talking about.” You said, fed up with his guessing game.
“Lupin, [Y/N], I’m talking about Lupin.”
That’s when you felt the lightbulb go off in your head. Realization came crashing over you like an ocean wave on a shore. You had heard the rumors that you had asked Remus Lupin to the spring dance, but you denied them, considering that they weren’t true. Remus was already going with someone else, but you had wanted to ask someone else. A knowing smile crossed over your face. Severus was brutally jealous.
“Oh, Sev...” You breathed out; “I didn’t ask Remus to the dance.”
You swear you saw a shimmer of joy wipe across his dark eyes. His heart did a happy leap.
“You didn’t?” He asked softly, suddenly ashamed of how he had been acting.
“No!” You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled.
“But...they said that-”
“Come on, S. You should know by now how stuff gets started around here,” You pointed out; “How many times have we heard things about other students that weren’t true?”
Severus pondered on that for a second. You had a fair point. Hogwarts was notorious for meddling, gossiping kids. He was relieved, but a new question crossed his mind.
“The dance is in two days. Are you going to ask someone?” He asked, not even thinking that you might want to ask him. 
“Why else do you think I’m out here with you now?” You posed.
He paused hard, hardly believing what he was hearing. 
“You...want to go with me? Why did you wait so long to ask?” He questioned.
You were a little offended that he asked you that, but were mostly amused. You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked at him.
“Well, I’ve been trying, but you run away from me every time I try to talk to you. On top of that, I’ve been slammed with work,” You explained; “But better late than never, right?”
He agreed with a shy smile, apologizing for his behavior and making up with you. It wasn’t until you left that he felt a surge of a thrill. He had a lot of preparation to do. 
He sprinted back to his dorm and to his trunk, digging through his clothes trying to find something spiffy to wear. His outfit had to be nothing less than perfect. He liked you a lot, and he wanted to make you look good. Although, you’d look amazing with or without him in his best clothes.
He tossed pants, shirts, socks, and everything else that wasn’t good enough over his shoulder. He went through all the way to the bottom of his trunk before finding something suitable. He bounced up with relief, thankful that he found something on such short notice. He made sure to try it on to make sure that it still fit. Much to his pleasure, it did. 
After the outfit was settled, a new concern sprang to mind. Should he get you flowers? Chocolates? Maybe a present? He was sure he was overthinking everything, but he wanted to be the very best date he could be, as your friend and possible future lover. With a little help from his Herbology professor, he was able to get a hold of some flowers that would be ready the afternoon of the dance. 
He was bright with giddiness. He could barely wait for Saturday.
Saturday night came around, and Severus was shocked that he didn’t collapse when he saw you. His breath caught in his throat, he became lightheaded, and his heart raced like a car on a track. However, he was able to keep his composure and attend the dance with you. And he had the time of his life.He danced with you, laughed until his sides hurt, and he was sure that his cheeks would be permanently stuck from how much he had smiled. He never knew how amazing one person could make him feel.
By the end of the night, you both had sore feet from dancing, but happy hearts from being with one another. To get away from the hustle and bustle of everyone else, you two took a stroll around the outer perimeters of the castle. You both needed some fresh air and some quiet. 
You were both still laughing and soaking up every moment together. You had both hit a positive spot in your lives. You stopped at the edge of the lake, mesmerized by the way the half-moon was glittering on the reflection on the surface. You stood side by side, now silently looking over the water and the small ripples. 
“I had a really nice time tonight, [Y/N].” He spoke lowly, afraid for a moment that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“Me too. I’m glad you came with me,” You replied; “This was the best night I’ve ever had.”
Suddenly, you felt a warm presence in your hand. Severus had slipped his hand into yours, entwining your fingers. 
His thoughts were racing. He thought about how everything in his life had led to tonight...this exact moment. He always wondered if everything happened for a reason. He wondered if every second of life was connected. Had his small choices determined the big things in his life? The good and the bad things? If he had made one tiny, menial different decision somewhere down the line, would that have prevented him from making it to this moment in time?
Whatever the answer was, he was glad for whatever choice brought him here.
You saw that his eyes were dead set ahead, but the blush on his cheeks were evidence that he knew exactly what was he was doing. You could tell he was nervous, and he hadn’t been the entire night. You knew what he was thinking.
 “Hey, Sev?” You called gently, his eyes diverting to you. 
“Yes?” He replied.
“Just kiss me already.” You said with a smirk.
Before he could overthink it, his lips crashed into yours. His hands went to the sides of your face as yours settled on his shoulders. A million spastic fireworks were going off in your mind, body, and soul. Severus didn’t have a great life, but always felt like he’d know the moment that his life did finally begin. 
And that moment was now.
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