#‘music is now ruined for me… How does any form of entertainment
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brasideios · 5 months ago
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If I have a guilty pleasure, it’s watching randoms on the internet listening to Shine on You Crazy Diamond parts I-V for the first time.
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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago
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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.
main masterlist ☀️ taglist
emotional support nerd
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Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.
This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.
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"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."
Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.
With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."
I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.
"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.
What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.
The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.
Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.
Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.
Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.
"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.
Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.
"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.
"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.
"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.
My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.
The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.
"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.
"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.
It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.
"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.
"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.
She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"
Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.
"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.
I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...
"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.
"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.
She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.
The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.
Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.
In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.
Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.
Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.
"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.
"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.
"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"
Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.
"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.
"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.
"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."
Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.
I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.
"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.
The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.
Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.
Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.
I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.
I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.
His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.
There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.
When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.
"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.
God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.
Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.
The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.
He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.
Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."
Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.
"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.
Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.
"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.
My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.
Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.
"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.
A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.
I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.
"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.
"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.
"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.
Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.
He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.
The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.
"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.
The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.
My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.
I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.
My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-
Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.
A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.
"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."
"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.
Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.
My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"
"Yeah," My mouth watered.
"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.
I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.
In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.
"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.
I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.
Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.
"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.
In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.
"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.
I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.
Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.
Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.
"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.
"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.
He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.
"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"
"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.
"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.
Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.
"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.
The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.
The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.
Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.
"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."
Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.
I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.
"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.
"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.
"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.
He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.
"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.
"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-
Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-
Oh.
"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.
"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.
"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.
We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.
"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.
Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.
I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.
"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.
Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.
A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.
"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.
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astridthevalkyrie · 4 years ago
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summer rain: chapter 3
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Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.
Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.
Chapter 2, Chapter 4
You don’t keep your promise to yourself. Very unwillingly, you let Lieutenant Levi catch out after hours again, a few months later, in very different circumstances.
The day goes pretty well before the incident, actually. Nothing extraordinary or painful happens, and you even get Grumman to tell you in that gruff voice of his that you have good form. A good day deserves a good night, a nice farewell. It’s the end of the week, and since tomorrow is everyone’s day off anyways, you decide you want to have a little fun.
The usual suspects want no part in it. Millie doesn’t support sneaking out of the base, Ricky is too busy studying, and Stephen cannot stay awake past dinnertime and is always out like a light. Traitors, the lot of them. There’s absolutely no fun in sneaking out alone, so you start asking around. Surely there must be someone who feels as cooped up as you do.
And that’s how you find yourself in a bar with Traute and Nifa.
It’s an odd combination, you know that much. Nifa is bubbly, bright, and speaks very loudly when she gets drunk. Traute, on the other hand, has a glare that turns out to be helpful to ward off any amorous intruders, but when directed at you, it can be scary. She doesn’t drink at all, giving you a hard stare when you ask her if she wants anything. You only have a single glass yourself before getting up to do what you really came here for - dance.
You start off slow, the alcohol leaving your brain just a bit fuzzy after not drinking for such a long time. The musicians playing on the stage at the side sweeten everyone’s ears with a gradual but energetic melody. You grab a random man’s arm, swinging into step with him. He complies with a hearty chuckle, and now you have a dance partner. In turn, he grabs his friend, who grabs theirs.
Claps and cheers fill the air. You feel the heavy steps under you as your arms flail and you spin, right in the center of it all and enjoying every last second of it. Your hair bounces around you, falling into your face. Someone grabs your hand and tugs you into a waltz. Eventually, dancing turns to jumping, but you don’t care, you live for every second of this. The dancing, the music, the crowd, the sinful act of sneaking out and getting so handsy with everyone. The music is only egging you on.
Your hands are in the air, twirling for all you’re worth. The crowd is cheering you on, the melody is reaching its peak, the room is spinning, and you raise a leg up to finish with a grand pirouette and a wide grin.
The song finishes and you stop to a resounding wave of applause, your arms still thrown in the air.
Right in front of you is Lieutenant Levi, and he does not share the crowd’s enthusiasm.
You stay exactly in the position you are, hands frozen as though he’s caught you. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation, or maybe it’s that he somehow went to the same seedy bar you did and caught you dancing and is now listening to your admirers enthusiastically shouting for an encore as the next song starts playing. Whatever the reason is, you start laughing.
He looks funny, with his bored, fed up expression. Why does he always look like that?
Sighing at your disorderly conduct, he beckons you forward with one finger. Feeling particularly pleasant, you follow him out of the crowd, pausing only to bow with a flourish to anyone who looks at you. Apparently, Lieutenant Levi does not appreciate your desire to please the crowd, because he grabs your arm and shoves you out of the bar. You giggle, hands flying up to cover your mouth.
“Who did you come here with?” he asks, and you waggle a finger.
“I’m not telling.”
“It’s your little quartet, isn’t it?”
“I’m not telling,” you repeat, taking a few steps back from him. You have no desire to get enthralled in him once again. The last time replays in your mind enough times as it is.
The lieutenant gives you a hard look. You try your best to match it, but you end up breaking out into giggles again, the giddy feeling too good to leave you so soon. He sighs.
“You’re drunk.”
“Ooh, so clever.” You smirk, completely unbothered. He doesn’t look too mad, and you’re not worried about Traute or Nifa either. They’ll find their way back. And now you have an escort! It’s truly a special night. “I’m not, actually. I’m no lightweight. I just feel good.”
“That won’t last long,” he promises, “you just ruined my plans. Instead of having a drink, I get to babysit you. So rest assured I’m going to make your life hell, (L/N).”
Your voice unwittingly comes out in a whine. “But you already do that.”
He sighs that sigh again, placing a hand on the top of your head to spin you around and push you in the direction of the base. You laugh loudly, finding his exasperation hilarious until he gives your temple a painful flick.
“Ow!”
“Fucking brat.”
“Ooh, you’re infuriating.” The good feeling is still there, but it’s a little more bitter. He just has that natural effect on your emotions. “You make me so mad.”
“Likewise,” he responds dryly.
The lack of engagement in his voice only serves to make you more sour. For a few minutes, you remain quiet, the two of you walking side by side. More than once, his knuckles brush against yours, but you pay no attention to the contact. You’re simmering in quiet annoyance, months of being thrown around, embarrassed and disrespected all coming to a head now. The liquid courage you consumed earlier doesn’t help either.
“Was it ugly?” aren’t exactly the words you wanted to say, but they’re the ones that come out.
“Hm?”
You look at him, an uncharacteristically vulnerable look displayed on your features. “My smile. Was it so ugly that you just couldn’t stand it?”
“What are you talking about?” He’s raising a brow at you, the breeze playing with his collar a bit. You realize this is the first time you’ve seen him out of uniform, in only a simple white buttoned shirt. He looks nice.
“The day we met. The first day of training. That day.” You wave a hand to make him understand. “You didn’t like my smile, so you...did what you did. And then you did it again later. That was mean.” There’s a pout on your face now, as you remember all his past transgressions. “It must have been an ugly smile if it made you act like this.”
“What are you trying to say?” Levi looks irritated. “Spit it out, (L/N).”
So you do.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
He looks at you, really looks at you, and yet he doesn’t halt. He merely scans your questioning face, your downtrodden expression and the downward direction of your lips. You’re not trying to be difficult this time, you’re really not. You just think that you have a right to know just what you did to make him constantly come after you. Maybe once you hear it, your ridiculous attraction to him will stop.
“What makes you think I hate you?” he replies, genuinely, honestly, and your heart clenches. Before you can reply, he goes on, “I wouldn’t be training you if I hated you. Wouldn’t put up with your annoying ass presence all the time.”
Not sure what to do with such a backhanded compliment, you press on. “So what, you like me? I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.”
“You would hate to see it,” Levi hums in agreement, and leaves it at that. There’s no confirmation as to whether or not he likes you, which you take to mean he merely tolerates you enough. That does nothing for your feelings. Oh Maria, you can’t actually believe you’re entertaining the idea of having feelings for him in the first place. There’s an attraction there, sure, in a if-he-asked-you-to-sleep-with-him-you-would-probably-say-yes kind of way. You can appreciate his features, you can admit that he’s ridiculously attractive (for a midget). But it doesn’t go deeper than that, and you know now that it doesn’t go deeper for him either. You’re a thorn in his side, who he begrudgingly agrees to train out of some sense of duty. That’s fine. Except…
Except your fascination with his eyes doesn’t just stem from you good you think they’d look above you. It’s been the same thing since day one - there’s just something about him you crave. His closeness, his attention. He’s interested you since the beginning, and you just don’t know why. It looks like you won’t ever find out.
“Hey.” Levi flicks your forehead again, ignoring the glare you throw his way. “You’re thinking too loudly. Cut it out.”
You cut it out.
Not even a whole minute later, he asks, “What were you thinking about?”
He just can’t make up his mind, can he? What an adorable little sadist.
For maybe the first time since you arrived here, you think carefully about your words before speaking. “I was thinking about something that happened once back home.” When he doesn’t say anything, only raises a brow, you continue, “Millie and I went out this one time, with this guy I liked but was too shy to tell. It was pretty late, and I was really tired, so we got separated somehow. I ended up in front of this large mansion. Large, large. Like, I grew up there as one of the richest girls on the block and I still thought it was huge -”
“Get to the point,” Levi grumbles, and you smirk at his impatience. You really do think he should hear this one.
“I knocked on the door, and these two women opened it. I told them what happened, and they agreed to let me stay the night. So I ate dinner with them and then -”
The lieutenant just isn’t content with letting you tell your story without interrupting. “You actually went in? That’s so fucking stupid. Not to mention dangerous. Why didn’t you just try to go home?”
“I’m scared of walking alone at night.” You wave your hand dismissively and hurry on before he can chide you further about how unsafe it is to trust strangers. “So anyway, I went to sleep in one of their spare rooms, but in the middle of the night...I heard something. A scratching sound. It freaked me out.”
He scoffs. “I would guess you got murdered after that, but since you’re here, I guess we weren’t so lucky.”
You look at him crossly. “Ha-ha. No, I made it through the night. I asked them about it the next morning -”
“And then they killed you.”
“No. They told me they’d love to tell me, but they couldn’t, because I wasn’t part of their secret society that they had built the mansion for. So I left, but a month later, I ended up getting lost there again.”
“You’re fucking useless.”
“Shut up.” You’re not sure where you get the gall to tell him that. “I stayed the night again, I heard the scratching again, and I asked again. But they said the same thing. So I said, screw it, I really want to know, I’ll join the secret society. They tell me that first I need to tell them how many houses there are in Stohess. It doesn’t have to be exact, but it has to be close.”
Levi’s brows are furrowed in concentration. He shakes his head with a frown, clearly running it over in his head. “I can’t see how you could figure something like that out. It would take you ages to walk through every single street and count all of them. Why would they need to know that anyways?”
You shrug. “Haven’t the faintest clue. But remember I said there was that guy I liked? His father is actually a mathematician, and the man’s a chip off the old block. So I go to him, and he helps me out. Approximates the shit out of it. I thank him with a kiss and then go to the mansion, and give them my final answer.” You lick your lower lip, basking in how intently Levi was listening to your story. “They said I was close enough and that they could finally tell me where the sound was coming from. They lead me to a gold door, and give me a gold key. Actual gold, Lieutenant.”
“Fascinating,” he mutters sarcastically.
“It is,” you agree, humming, “I open the door, but then there’s another door. This time it’s silver.”
There’s deep confusion in those grey eyes. Something is very thrilling about having him hang on to your every word.
“They hand me a silver key, and I open the silver door, and then there’s a bronze door. At this point I’m really irritated, but they give me a bronze key and promise that this is the last door. So I put it in, unlock it, and open the door. And then I finally see it.”
You’ve arrived at the base. Snapping your heels together, you press your fist to your chest and salute. “Thanks for walking me back, Lieutenant. See you tomorrow.”
“What?” His eyes narrow. “Finish the story, (L/N). What was making the sound?”
You gasp in mock surprise, scandalized. “I can’t tell you, you’re not part of the secret society.”
If only you could capture his face in this very moment. It’s as though he goes through all the stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance all in one second. His mouth falls open in surprise, and you burst out laughing, pointing at him gleefully.
“Ooh, I got you so good!”
Levi gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen, which only serves to make you guffaw even louder. You grin broadly - it feels so amazing to one-up him, even if it’s in this brief, stupid exchange. He can take this as your revenge for flustering you in the hallway a few months ago. Just who did this man think he was playing with? You are the product of the bitches and bastards of the fakest place in the world, so yeah, you can tell a story, and you can act your heart out. In fact, what were you doing here in the military? You should’ve joined a traveling theatre group, now that would have put your many talents to good use.
“Your sense of humor is shitty,” the lieutenant informs you flatly. Oh, you beg to disagree. “Laughing at your own jokes doesn’t make them good. So it was all fake, then?”
You do your best to control your giggles. “Y-yeah. I don’t just sleep over at random mansions. And I’m not scared of being alone in the dark.”
“All of it was fake?” he asks again, and this time it’s your turn to be confused.
“Yes?”
He tsks, whether at you or himself you’re not sure, then lets out a tired sigh. Sparing no further pleasantries, he orders you to bed, warns you not to be late tomorrow, and adds that he’s looking forward to the fresh hell he plans to inflict on you. You salute again, just to be extra, then start walking to the female barracks, still laughing to yourself. Hopefully this won’t seem like a hazy dream tomorrow. You got him, you really got him.
Just before you change into your nightgown, a fleeting thought pops into your mind.
Was the reason the lieutenant double-checked that the story was fake because you mentioned that there had been a guy you liked? No, that was ridiculous. He probably just wanted to check that his subordinate that he was investing so much time in wasn’t a complete idiot. But the thought is stuck in your head now, and you fight back a smile, burying your face in your pillow. Maybe you are a little drunk, but you could go back to hating him in the morning.
____________________
It’s astonishing to you, but you’ve actually improved. Gone are the days of your legs aching after running a few measly laps. When Rashad attempts to pin you down, you can flip him over and hold him there. The ODM gear starts to feel more natural, and zipping through the air is slowly becoming muscle memory. Even the swords feel just right in your hands, although it’s weird that you could run out of them and then have nothing to defend yourself with. Oh well, you don’t plan to be in that kind of situation anyways.
You hate to admit it, but Lieutenant Levi’s training is paying off. It’s not something you realize until you learn, with a start, that you are in the top ten. Number six, to be specific. Ricky mocks you endlessly for being one of those people who say they don’t care when they in fact care very much, as though he’s not two ranks below you.
Without telling Millie, you send a letter to your mother, telling her about your achievements.
Mama,
Sorry for taking so long to write. I wasn’t so sure you wanted me to. I still don’t know. But l wanted to tell you that I’m doing well here. I’m number six in the ranks. Isn’t that cool?
Millie’s doing well too, although I’m sure Mrs. Shackel keeps you updated. We have these two boys who follow us around like annoying flies. One’s from a village in Rose, and the other’s actually from an outer city of Wall Maria. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to marry a poor boy. I’ll find someone rich to settle down with eventually.
I hope you’re taking care, and I hope Grandma is too. Her condition hasn’t gotten any worse, has it? If you need me to send something from here, I’ll do my best to see if I can find it.
I wish I was the kind of daughter who could write you a longer letter. Sorry, Mama, but I’m not sure what else to say. Who knows if I’ll see you again?
Lots of love,
(F/N)
____________________
“I” - huff - “need it.”
“No.”
“I” - huff - “will” - huff - “kill you.”
“Tch. You’d try.”
“Just give me the water, please.”
“You still have a lap left.”
“I’ll do it, it’s important to stay hydrated!”
“Do the lap, then you get the water.”
“If you don’t give it to me now, I’ll faint.”
“Then I’ll leave you out here.”
“You wouldn’t - well, you would, but you shouldn’t.”
“Don’t want to. So get to it.”
“God, fine!”
“...”
“Now can I” - huff - “please have it?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
“You are such a -”
“You talk too much.”
“Oh my” - cough - “God. Are you trying to choke me?”
“You wanted the water.”
“To drink, not for you to shove down my throat and waterboard me with!”
“Ungrateful wretch.”
“What are you, a charming prince from a novel?”
“Yes. Now drink up, my bratty duchess, we’ve got more work to do.”
____________________
There’s dirt on your face, your sleeves, and your shoes, and yet you stay still, with a small grin on your face. You’re lying down, facing up, hands pressed up against the ground. To anyone flying above, you’d blend in with the dirt perfectly. Or at least, that’s what you’re counting on.
Somewhere out there, Ricky is on the hunt looking for you.
Your gear lies hidden a few feet away, since you didn’t want anything chunky to ruin your brilliant camouflage. Obviously a good long wash will do wonders for you later, but for now you stay quiet, ignoring the filth on your otherwise pristine self. The forest is quiet, with the light chirps of birds that you’re sure are very cute but would take a shit on you if you stay here too long. You breathe in and out quietly, stomach tense as you wait to see if your plan will work.
The wait isn’t long. You hear him before you see him, faint clicking sounds that his ODM gear is nice enough to alert you with. Pressing down into the ground, you hold your breath and close your eyes halfway, convincing yourself that you’re part of the nature that surrounds you. If you believe it hard enough, maybe this will actually work and Ricky won’t spot you.
After a second that feels like an hour, you hear him fly away and you breathe easy, running a hand through your hair.
Only then you feel something brush up against your finger, something hairy that’s crawling up your hand -
You let out an ungodly shriek, jumping to your feet. The poor bug that crawled onto your hand is flung off as you thrash your arms this way and that, smacking your skin just to get it off, get it off, get it off!
For all your efforts, Ricky hears you scream and immediately zooms back, chortling. He lands down in front of you, placing his finger on your nose as soon as you calm down.
“Found you.”
You sigh. This extreme version of hide-and-seek may have been a bad idea.
____________________
Millie has her head in your lap, a map in her hands as she shakes her head. Apparently there’s something marvelous about the document, since she can’t keep her eyes off it.
“I don’t think I ever realized how large the space is between the walls,” she mutters, “there’s so much distance between Maria and Rose. It didn’t feel that way when we came here.”
“Yeah,” you hum, absentmindedly tracing designs on her cheek, “makes you wonder how different people get the more inward they go.”
Millie’s nose wrinkles in concentration. “Stephen has a slight accent. Have you noticed?”
“Mmhm. He does good work hiding it, though. It’s hard to pick up on it unless he has to roll his r’s.” You try snatching the map from her hands but she holds on tightly, scolding you over trying to give her a papercut. Well that’s hilarious, considering the two of your are covered in scratches and bruises all over, but that’s Millie for you, always striving for the closest thing to perfection she can get.
You lean your head back against the bark of the tree, leaving her to her observations. It’s been a while since the two of you have gotten to hang out together, away from everyone else. It’s really no one’s fault, you’re both busy and it’s not like you haven’t already spent most of your lives together. Millie has her studies to religiously focus on, her rivals to crush, and apparently her maps to drool over. Meanwhile, you have friends to playfully compete with, horrible doodles to draw next to your scribbled notes, and your mind is strangely preoccupied with…
“Look, it’s your best friend,” Millie said noncommittally, nodding her head to the right.
Deja vu hits you like a merchant’s cart. You’re sitting under the same tree, he’s walking in the same direction. When he catches your gaze, you decide to complete the scene and give him a bright smile and a friendly wave.
Levi stares at you for two seconds, and then rolls his eyes and keeps walking. You bite your lip, just slightly amused.
It’s an improvement.
____________________
"(L/N), you’ve got a letter too!” are the words that shake you out of your sleep haze in the morning. You jump up, pushing past the others trying to get their hands on their mail. Reginald, the man who's nice enough to put up with this crap once a week, thrusts an extremely fancy envelope in your hand. Your name is written on the back in your mother’s expert penmanship. You eagerly walk back to your seat, ignoring the glares and eyerolls from some people who obviously weren’t getting their letters in pretty envelopes.
You sit back down at the table, opening the letter with extra care. It’s from your mother, and that makes it precious, so you want to savor it the best you can. Across from you in her normal seat, Millie raises a brow.
“Your mom wrote to you?”
“I wrote to her a few weeks ago. Just wanted to catch up,” you say quietly, not meeting her eyes, “I’m surprised she wrote back.”
Next to Millie, Stephen’s brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t your mother write back to you?”
“No reason,” you answer quickly, “she’s just a busy woman.”
With your friends’ watching your reaction carefully, you unfold the piece of paper, beginning to read.
To my darling daughter,
You say you don’t write much, and yet it gave me a headache just to read that much. You know that I like to be organized, so I’ll answer your unwanted letter point by point.
It’s certainly wonderful that you’re sixth in the ranks. Perhaps that means you’re the sixth least likely to die? Maybe the next time I hear from you, it’ll actually be from your commanding officer telling me how special you were, but how that didn’t stop you from meeting your terrible end. Hopefully there’ll at least be a small pension that comes with it.
Mrs. Shackel and I met for tea last week. She told me you were being personally trained by the best soldier in the Scouts. I have an idea - marry him, someone with such a valuable skill set surely isn’t poor, and is much better suited to your tastes. That way not only will you leave me without a daughter, but you’ll also leave the poor man a widow as well. Would that satisfy your cruelty, dear?
I am taking care. Grandma is taking care. We are doing fine without you. We don’t need anything from you. I don’t think we ever have. Had I known I was raising such a manipulative, heartless girl, I would have prayed to that ridiculous church that you die during childbirth. Unfortunately, Sina did not give me the good instincts to run a knife through you the second you were born.
Please do not write again.
Lots of love,
Your doting mother
“(F/N),” Millie starts immediately, taking in your stricken expression. She must have a good idea of what the letter says. “Forget about it, she’s a -”
You clear your throat loudly, standing up. Stephen looks worried, but he also seems unsure as to what to do. You don’t want him to do anything, hell, you don’t even want Millie to do anything. You want to get out of here. The room is suddenly suffocating. Your eyes are stinging but you are damned if you’re going to break down in here, so you only shake your head, unable to form words. You wave a hand at Millie, hoping she gets the hint not to follow you.
Without looking at anyone, you rush out of the mess hall. Despite your determination to wait until you’re definitely in a secluded area, tears start flowing down your face the second you step out. With an ugly, pained sob escaping you, you break out into a run.
Now that it’s getting a bit chillier, the cold bites into your eyes, making them water even more. You stop running after a few minutes, in the middle of the grounds. With everyone still having breakfast, there’s no one here yet, and you take that as an invitation to drop to your knees and start crying in earnest.
Why did she have to be so cruel?
You’re not a crier, you’re really not. An avid complainer, sure. A whiner at times. Definitely a sore loser. But you don’t particularly get any catharsis out of crying like so many other people do. When it comes to your mother, though...she’s just always known exactly where to strike her punches to turn you into a helpless little girl again. She can make you start blubbering so easily, and you hate that she can control your emotions even from so far away.
So you read the letter over and over again, until you’re mouthing the words on your lips that taste salty from the waterworks coating them. You’re trying to be quiet, but it’s beyond your control. You’re sobbing and wailing, and showing no sign of stopping.
There’s a quiet rustling beside you as someone walks up, and you shut your eyes tightly for a second. “M-Mil, I’m fine, I swear.”
“Are you?” Levi inquires, and you choke on a surprised sob, swallowing the embarrassing sound at the last second. Furiously wiping your eyes, you make to stand, but he crouches down instead.
He’s been in close proximity to you before, but never like this. Right now he’s near enough for you to reach out and touch his cheek if you so desired, but far enough that he’s not overwhelming you, and yet you can see the pores on his cheeks, the individual lashes lining those gorgeous grey eyes. You wipe your cheeks angrily. Great, just great, this incident will set you back several months on your plan. As though he was someone who needed to see you in such a vulnerable state.
The lieutenant outstretches his hand expectantly, and you’re not sure why you give him the letter so easily. You watch as his eyes scan the cruel words.
“I know,” you say before he can speak, “I know it’s not a big deal. But she’s my mother, I just - I just wanted her to - I thought she could at least be a little proud - “
You don’t realize another tear has rolled down your cheek until he brushes his thumb across your face, wiping it off easily. God, he must think you so weak. You wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to stop your private lessons right here and now.
But when you look at him, there’s no condescension on his face. There’s not even pity. You can’t place it. To an outsider he might look angry, but after knowing him for almost a year, you know that’s not it. It’s something strangely...protective. Fierce. You never expected him to look at you like that. You don’t know what to make of it.
“Stop crying,” he orders, not unkindly. It could be taken as a request. “Do you want to keep this letter?”
“I - I don’t know.”
It seems your body is more obedient than you are, because you stop tearing up, and when you wipe your face again, it remains dry.
“That’s it,” Levi murmurs, as his hands hold yours, warming them up. “Personally, I’d rip it to shreds. But that’s up to you.”
What’s going on? He’s being...well, he’s being nice. He’s never nice. He’s not always unpleasant, and he indulges in your silly banter, but he’s never been so...soft, especially not with you. And just why are you so easily warming up to him, going as far as to curl your fingers around his? Is it because his hands are warm against your cold ones, or is it...is it because…
“I want to keep it,” you blurt out, partly to keep yourself from the unwelcome thoughts inside your head.
He nods. and then gently grasps your arms, bringing both you and him to your feet. He places the letter in your hand, and then proceeds to brush the sides of your uniform off. It’s rough, but you’re emotional and this feels like the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you.
“Thanks,” you breathe. It’s hard to say, but you spit it out anyways. “I - I don’t know what to - thank you.”
Finally, Levi looks like himself again, because he rolls his eyes and mutters, “I just picked your lazy ass up, (L/N), don’t look so fucking grateful about it.”
You smile softly, but he looks away, obviously feeling awkward. He truly goes through moods like he’s trying on different outfits, the weirdo. You decide that just this once you can spare him - besides, you need to save face too. You turn around, intending to walk away.
The lieutenant grabs your hand at the last second. He grips it tightly, keeping your arm outstretched. If only your heart could stop lurching like this, it’s not as if he’s going to pull you in for a kiss - he’s not the type.
“(L/N).”
“Yes?”
“From now on, if you’re going to cry, you’re only going to cry because of me. Understood?”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes, sir.”
He nods, satisfied, and lets you go.
____________________
You can’t believe you’re doing this.
In the past year, you’ve been to Lieutenant Levi’s office once, maybe twice or thrice. Either you had something to tell him (like how you couldn’t train due to severe emotional trauma, which was usually denied), or he led you there himself, to quickly grab something. How come he gets an office anyway? You’re pretty sure one has to be a captain or section commander to get their own space, and Levi is neither. You suppose being humanity’s strongest comes with its own benefits, even if it is an unofficial title. He gets to enjoy the finer things in life. Lucky him.
Anyways, you hadn’t planned on showing up here after hours, and certainly not with a steaming cup of tea in your hands.
Swallowing every bit of your pride, you knock on the door. “Lieutenant?”
No answer. You knock again.
And again.
It’s right as your knocks get just a touch louder that you hear him groan, “I’m coming, just hold on a second.”
When Levi opens the door, you take the quickest second to note that he looks how he did the day he walked you home, dressed in casual clothing. Realistically you know that no one stays in their uniform all day, but it’s still jarring to see him out of it. Someone might mistake him as approachable, although that ridiculous notion would quickly evaporate when they got a good look at his face.
He gives you a quick annoyed lookover, clearly waiting to hear your reason for disturbing him at this time.
“Chamomile,” you say with a grin, thrusting it forward, “Helps you sleep.”
He gives you a long, deadpan look.
“Who asked you to make this?”
“No one asked me.” You let out a puff of air to blow the loose strands of hair that have fallen out from your bun into your eyes. “I’m being nice. As thanks for...you know. Just take it.”
Levi doesn’t take it, but he does turn and go back into his office without closing the door, so you take the invitation and slip in, shutting it behind you. He slips into the chair behind his desk and you make yourself comfortable in the one in the front. There’s important looking documents all over, but there’s an order to them - a method to his madness. There’s not a single pen out of place. Of course, this is your obsessive compulsive midget who organized it, so you can’t expect anything else.
You slide the cup across the desk, where there’s another cup of tea already half empty. Oops, you’ve accidentally fueled his caffeine addiction. “That doesn’t look like chamomile.”
“It’s not. Just regular black tea.”
“Won’t that keep you up even more?”
“That’s the idea,” he says calmly, relaxed and leaning back.
“Wow, you’re a proud insomniac.” You shake your head in a disappointed manner. “If it were me, I’d at least try to sleep.”
Levi gives you a little glare, then pushes aside the paper he was working on to pick up your gift. He peers at it, looking a bit tired all of a sudden. It’s as though the day or the month or the entire year is catching up with him, and his eyes flicker to your eager face before he lets out a long sigh, raises the cup and brings it to his mouth.
Almost immediately he gags, slamming it down as his face scrunches up in disgust. “What the fuck, (L/N)? This is shit!”
Well, excuse you. You’re not a professional tea sommelier, and this isn’t some dainty cafe.
Still, you wince, crossing your arms and curling back into the chair. “Sorry. I’ve never actually made tea before. I’m not a fan.”
“Let me guess,” Levi says in a scathing tone as though you just admitted to cold-blooded murder, “you drink coffee.”
What an ignorant thing to assume.
“I drink milk, I’ll have you know.” You snap this at him, only realizing a second later that it’s not really something to boast about so proudly.
Something he clearly realizes as well, because he’s fighting back a smile and failing pretty miserably. “You drink milk.”
Well, there’s no taking it back now. “Yes.”
“Milk.”
“It makes your bones grow strong, okay?”
He laughs at you, leaning back in his seat. “Of course it does.”
“Don’t make fun of me, it does!”
You bite down the comment that comes to mind, which is that he must not have drank much milk otherwise he’d probably be taller. You’re here to be nice, you remind yourself, even if he’s being his usual infuriating self. There’s lots of nice things you can do, like...like…
Oh my gosh, are you the mean one in this relationship? No, that’s impossible.
“Looks like you have a lot of work,” you say, gesturing to the piles of paper on his desk. “Want some help?”
Levi raises a brow at you, as though to ask you how much help you possibly think you could be. That’s fucking rude. “No, I wouldn't want to waste your strong bones on some boring paperwork.”
It’s your turn to glare. Maybe focusing on his totally wrong opinions about your choice in beverage will help you ignore the fact that the two of you are sitting, dare you say, cozily, in his office. He’s not kicking you out, he’s indulging you in conversation, and he’s even taking another sip from the supposedly terrible cup of tea you made for him. Sure, he grimaces after drinking it, but he’s not throwing it out. That’s...something.
Your relationship with the lieutenant is quickly becoming something dangerous. You’re enjoying his company a little too much lately. You’re thrilling in his laughter too often, you’re drowning in his eyes an unhealthy amount. It could be chalked up to the fact that you’ve just grown accustomed to him, since you see him so often, but you know that’s not it. The more likely explanation is that you just have such low expectations for him that the second he shows basic human decency, you mistake your surprise for some newfound affection for the man. You want that to be the explanation, at least. The alternative is too awful to think about.
“So,” he begins, and you think you’re about to be kicked out until he says, “shitty mom. What’s that about?”
You sigh. That’s about the only conversation topic you don’t want to breach, but you suppose it can’t be avoided. “Typical rich girl problems. She wants to use me for her own purposes, so she’s not happy I got up and abandoned her. Plus, Dad died outside the walls, and she’s not really a fan of me following in his footsteps.” You feel comfortable telling him this much.
Levi looks thoughtful. “Do you plan to die out there?” He’s not fazed by your blunt attitude at all, which is kind of refreshing, actually.
But the question is still...well, how do you answer that? How do you answer it without disappointing him? And why does it matter if you disappoint him? You don’t have the answer to any of these questions, so you only shrug and avert your eyes, letting them drop down the floor. Your goals are your own, and he doesn’t need to know them. He doesn’t pressure you, only hums in understanding.
“I’ve really never had a cup of tea this bad.”
You smile, grateful for the change of topic. “No one’s forcing you to drink it. Lieutenant.”
“Insolent brat, you go a whole conversation and then add the title like you’re doing me some kind of fucking favor.” He’s good at avoiding the topic too. Your eyes light up, and you lean forward.
“Pardon me, sir. Lieutenant Levi. Your grace. My prince charming. The duke of destruction. My deepest apologies.”
“Not forgiven.” He smirks, thoroughly entertained. “Try harder.”
“Make me.” The response slips naturally through your lips, inviting and seductive.
Oh for the love of Rose, you think to yourself, please shut the fuck up. It’s like the second you resolve to keep things neutral with him, he sets something up so well that you have to say something borderline flirtatious. It’s just too easy with him. You lose all semblance of self control, and always end up saying something stupid.
“Should I?” Levi muses, a gleam in his eyes now. “Your mother did suggest that you marry me. Maybe I should take her up on that.” He leans forward with a cruel smile, as if the idea is perfectly enticing to him. “Would you finally be a good girl and listen to me then, (L/N)?”
You freeze, mouth falling open. You had really, truly forgotten that your witch of a mother had included that in her oh-so loving letter, and that he’d read it. Holy hells, the universe wouldn’t be satisfied until the man in front of you had humiliated you in every way, shape and form. And this right here, this is exactly the fucking problem. He never stops you when you unintentionally flirt with him - most of the time he ignores it, and other times he encourages you and you daresay he flirts back. To mess with you, of course, none of this is genuine, but it makes the butterflies in your stomach freak out either way.
“Probably not, sir,” you force out when you find your voice, “I’m actually not looking to get married at all, so if someone did make a wife out of me, I’d fight them tooth and nail.”
He snorts. “Of course you would. Have to make use of those strong bones somehow, don’t you?” This fucking midget, he somehow musters up the audacity to leave you flustered and then moves on and pretends like nothing happened. What an asshole.
“Oh my God,” you groan, “leave me and my milk alone, caffeine addict. Seriously, I know it’s bad out there, but it can’t possibly be bad enough for you to act like such a hardass all the time.”
Levi pauses, the sharp retort that he was surely about to fire dying on his lips. There’s a brief flash of sadness in his eyes, and you bite your lip. Fuck, maybe you’re the one who crossed the line this time. You have a quick apology ready to go. but he speaks before you get the chance.
“For your information,” he says coolly, “I’ve always been like this.”
Well, that’s interesting. He’s not wartorn, just a grump? No one is just negative all the time for no reason, they have to have been screwed over by life somehow. You can’t take his claim at face value, you just have to do some more digging.
“And why is that? Rough childhood?” You snap your fingers, invested in this new guessing game. “Orphaned as a baby. Cast aside by a sibling.” Your eyes sparkle mischievously as you grin. “Abandoned at the altar by your long time lover. She left you for your cousin!”
“It’s past your bedtime,” Levi says, standing up, “lovely of you to drop by, but you better get going.”
The cup that you gave him is now empty.
“Injury. Business deal went wrong.” He pulls you up by your arms, ignoring your scientific hypotheses. “Your favorite pet died. Ooh, I know, the company your father left you in charge of went bankrupt! Wait wait wait, Levi!” He’s pushed you out of the room and has a hand on the door, but before he can close it, you place your palm against his chest, looking at him very seriously.
“Is it the altar one?”
“Why do you need to know?” he asks, seizing your wrist to take it off.
See, this is what you mean by setting you up perfectly. It’s his fault, all his fault. “If my betrothed has a scandalous past, I think I have a right to that information.”
Levi shoves you out and slams the door shut, leaving you beaming as you begin to jog to your dorms. That’s another point for you, and now that you’ve paid him back for comforting you earlier the two of you are even, and you can return to planning for the battle that he has no idea he’s participating in. The stars shine brightly that night, and you sleep easy.
____________________
“Look, they’re back!”
Everyone ignores Grumman’s instructions to stay right where they are, an action they’ll probably pay for in blood, sweat and tears later. The Scouts are returning from their latest expedition, finally. Everyone around the base is always tense when they leave, and now people can rest easy knowing that the next one won’t be for a few months. There’s apprehension in the air - as of right now, no one knows who made it back and who wasn’t so fortunate. You feel a twinge of guilt at the relief that you know the only person is the Survey Corp that you care for know is the most likely to have survived.
Sure enough, there he is next to Captain Erwin, looking weary as he gets off his horse. You’ve pushed forward to the front of the crowd of cadets, all scanning the crowd. You find yourself sandwiched between Ricky, whose long legs make it easy for him to keep up with you, and Petra, who is sighing with a dreamy smile on her face. You follow her gaze, confused.
“What, one of them bring back some food?” You crane your neck to figure out what she’s looking so lovingly at.
“No.” Petra points discreetly, and you follow her finger. “It’s just, he’s rather handsome, isn’t he?”
“Who, Erwin Smith? I mean, I guess, but he’s not really my -”
“No, (F/N).” She shakes her head fondly. “Lieutenant Levi. Don’t you think he’s extremely good-looking?”
Next to you, Ricky barks out a laugh, and you elbow him as you utter with the grace of someone who hasn’t been fantasizing about Levi’s eyes since the moment you met him, “No, not really. You can do better, Petra, trust me.”
A soldier rides in late, his face panicked and sweat trickling down his face.
“Oh, come on, I know the two of you have your differences, but even you have to admit that -”
One second, you’re chattering with Petra and wrestling Ricky with one arm as he grinds your foot against his.
The next second, your ears are ringing with the words that the soldier screams as loud as he can.
“The titans have broken the outer wall! They’ve gotten into Shiganshina!”
In a single moment, everything you know and hold dear changes.
All at once people are shouting, screaming at the poor soldier who delivered the news to explain. The titans have gotten into Shiganshina? How could they have? Is he out of his mind? Who sent him? How many drinks has he had? What does he mean, they’ve broken the outer wall? It’s a wall, it can’t just be broken, so what does he mean? What is he talking about?
It takes you a minute to notice Ricky has completely frozen next to you. His hands are trembling, and he’s mumbling to himself and shaking his head, as though this is a nightmare and he just needs a good pinch to wake up.
“My - my mom and dad, and my sisters,” he’s saying. “They’re not...they can’t fight titans, they’re not soldiers. They need...need help…”
With a terrifying realization, you remember that he’s from Shiganshina. You’re grabbing his arm to steady him, words of reassurance getting stuck in your throat. You don’t know what to say - you can barely control the consuming fear growing inside you, let alone soothe his.
In the next few seconds, Commander Shadis has learned everything he’s going to learn from the messenger, and he lets out a scream you will remember for the rest of your life. The order that’s delivered to you on humanity’s darkest day is simple.
“All Survey Corps members will refill their gas and restock their blades immediately! I want you all back on horseback in five minutes, you hear me? We are riding back to Shiganshina right now! All cadets and other personnel at this base are to gather the rest of the horses and get behind Wall Rose to assist the soldiers there with the refugees! Is that understood?”
He’s met with the chilling cries of at least a hundred people shouting, “Yes, sir!”
Your voice was not among the people who answered. As people run past you to prepare, you run forward, because suddenly you’re scared. Suddenly you’re not so sure that he’ll come back. And you can battle with yourself all you want later, all that’s important to you right now is getting to him. Even as you see tearstained faces pass by, you keep running, because you have to catch him before he goes, you have to -
You catch up to him right before he disappears. Steely grey eyes meet yours as people rush past you, no one sparing even a second glance to the two of you.
For a second, he’s surprised. Then he turns cold, and hard, and you know that many people are about to die. And he’s going to have to witness every. Last. One.
“Is there someone in Shiganshina you need me to look out for?” Levi murmurs, with all the softness of someone who might be riding out to his death.
No, you want to scream. Ricky’s family, maybe, but you don’t even know what they look like, and he’s going to have to worry about saving enough people without you placing an extra burden on his shoulders. No, it’s nothing like that, you just want him to...you need him to...
“Be careful,” you manage to get out in a foolish, rushed request, “please be careful.”
Shock makes its way to his features, as though he thinks it’s out of this world for someone to ask him to stay alive for his own sake. Your heart clenches, but you’re not leaving until he promises you he’s going to come back.
“Levi!” Captain Erwin calls. You don’t have any time left.
Even before he speaks, you know that he’s not going to make you the stupid promise you were hoping for. He’s not flowery, and certainly not one to feed you bullshit. No, he’s real, the realest person you’ve ever known, and his answer is going to be as authentic as he is.
“I’ll do my best.” Levi pulls away from you. “You be careful too, (L/N).”
With that, he breaks away from you and is lost in the crowd.
You don’t even realize you had been holding onto him until your hand is left feeling bare, reaching for him in an endless sea of soldiers storming to their doom.
ohhhhhh, i’ve been waiting for this for a long time. surprise, things are happening!
mommy dearest is rather harsh, isn’t she? reader’s no sweetheart herself, but damn.
yes, there’s a slap on titan reference in there.
poor carla is getting eaten right about now, and reader is here having a moment. sigh.
comment and let me know what you think!
237 notes · View notes
roanniom · 4 years ago
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My request is probably so lame lol. But will you please tell us about Valentines Day with Flip? How does he spoil you and make it extra special for you? I’d love it if you could throw in some praise kink and size kink too please!
I love all your writing and you’re so talented! Thank you for entertaining my request! 💛
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Hi my lovelies, thanks for your patience with this, seeing as it is coming over a week after Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t 100% I had another Valentine’s story in me after my Clyde and Charlie ones, but I chose to combine these prompts, got a little inspiration today and voila - a sweet and salty Flip one shot was born. Hope you’re cool with me combining and taking a bit from each of these requests! ❤️
Stupid Little Day in February
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Flip Zimmerman x Reader
Word Count: 3,890
Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex / semi-public sex / unprotected sex, angst in the form of Flip wanting to love up his lady but having work get in the way
Flip had never intended to find himself in this position. He was a perfectionist, giving everything he had and then some in an effort to be successful in all he did – high school sports, his career at the department, his relationships. It’s why he always tries to make time for the boys, being there for Ron whenever he needs help or just someone to bitch to over a beer after work. It’s why he does his best to shower you with love and affection every chance he gets, bringing home little gifts and spending lazy Sundays doing nothing but you. And he thought that, all things considered, he’d been doing a damn good job.
That is until he overheard you on the phone with your friend the other day. You were twirling the coiled cord around your finger while you lounged on the couch laughing and chatting animatedly. He’d walked by and into the kitchen, careful not to disturb you, but as he cracked open a beer he heard something that made his stomach drop.
“Yeah I know I love Valentine’s Day, but Flip hates it so I can be cool with that.”
Flip had left his beer on the counter and moved silently to the doorway, ears straining to hear the rest of the conversation, mind racing to all the times he had, indeed, condemned the holiday of love as a sappy excuse for bad boyfriends to redeem themselves. A day to stimulate the gift industry. You’d laughed and teased him for his soap box routine and grumpy demeanor but you hadn’t argued.
“Besides, I’ve told you. The man gets me flowers like three days a week. He remembers things, like really remembers things. And he listens. I’d trade fancy dinner, red hearts, and chocolate for him any day.”
And though you’d defended him to your friend, your words had stuck with Flip. He wanted to give you the moon, he would if it wasn’t so damn high up. The least he could do was indulge you in something you enjoyed. You did that for him constantly – sitting through football games, hanging with the boys at the bar, listening to country music though you told him that deep inside it made you want to murder the jukebox. You sucked it up and took it with a smile so you could be with him. Flip kicked himself for not being able to do the same with some stupid holiday.
But at the exact moment Flip vowed to right this wrong, the universe seemed to have made a competing vow to ruin all of his efforts. It seemed that the revelation had come to late, being that it was already the night before Valentine’s Day. He was horrified the next morning to find, after a series of tense calls made at his desk hunched over and hushed so none of the other detectives could here, every restaurant in town was booked full. Which ended up being a moot point because the chief demanded he stay late, regardless of how much he gnashed his teeth.
“Everyone with a serious gal already asked for the night off, Zimmerman. It’s too late now. Guess your gal isn’t that serious,” was the only reply he received.
Head in his hands at his desk, Flip flinched when his back received a firm clap.
“Now I know we’re in the contemplating-marriage-territory here with this girl,” Ron said, pulling a seat up and fixing Flip with a concerned look. “What’s all this about not taking time off?”
Flip repeated the conversation that he’d overheard, sure to explain that he had no intention of disappointing you despite your good nature.
“You do realize that this could easily be remedied by a simple call to your woman, right?” Ron asked as Flip massaged the space between his eyes.
“I wanted to surprise her. Calling at this point feels like admitting defeat.”
“Do you hear yourself? ‘Admitting defeat?’ This isn’t some damn battle, it’s a holiday for a fat little baby with wings.”
“Hey, he does have a weapon,” Flip countered, though this time he cracked a smile. Ron laughed heartily.
“Yeah, one that’s been used to shoot you and your little lady enough to kill a small elephant. You guys are pumped so full of the love juice it’s a wonder you’re able to concentrate on anything else.” Ron turned then and flicked the large stack of files on Flip’s desk with a smirk. “Or maybe that’s your problem, Zimmerman.”
Flip shook his head.
“That might be the case for me, but – ”
“Are you seriously about to argue that she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“How the fuck would you know?” Flip asked gruffly. Ron, used to Flip’s gruffness much as you were, plowed right on through.
“Well besides all the dinner parties and barbeques and nights we all go dancing?” Ron raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Patrice, man! You think those women get together and don’t talk about us?”
“Patrice has told you things?” Flip’s whole body tensed and Ron was quick to reassure.
“Calm the fuck down, I don’t want any of your dirty details. All I know is your woman is crazy in love with you. I don’t think some stupid little day in February is going to rock your world as much as you think it will.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Flip conceded, putting his head in his hands.
“I’m always right, you just never listen,” Ron said good-naturedly as he headed back to his desk. Over his shoulder he tossed one final piece of wisdom. “Whatever you do, just call her!”
~*~
And Flip did try to call you. Ten times as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until the sun set out the window and he hung up the phone for the tenth time that he remembered you’d had plans to hang out with your mother today. While that probably should have made him feel better – you had filled your day with plenty of things and probably wouldn’t even notice his failed attempt at romance – he couldn’t help but agonize the fact that it proved you had expected so little of him in the first place.
It’s with this on his mind that Flip buries himself in his paperwork. It’s 8pm and every member of the Colorado Springs police force that hadn’t taken the holiday off is out for a dinner break, Flip having sullenly waved them off so he could sulk in peace. He’s neck-deep in casefiles when he hears the sound of footsteps coming in from the bullpen. It was much too soft to be the tread of any of the beat cops he’d expected to see tonight and Judy, the night shift receptionist, wasn’t due in till later.
“Burning the midnight oil there, detective?”
Flip’s head snaps up at your voice to find you leaning against the doorframe to his office, arms folded casually across your chest, cheeky smile gracing your lips.
“Baby, what are you doing here?” Flip asks breathlessly as he makes to stand up. He freezes mid-motion, however, when you hold a hand up.
“Ah ah ah, no need to get up,” you tsk, closing the door with a gentle click and dropping your bag to the floor before making your way over to him. He hesitates but lowers himself back into his seat, eyes trained on your frame slinking toward him. You drop your palms to his desk and hoist yourself up onto it, prowling forward across the surface on your hands and knees toward him. “I heard my man needed some cheering up.”
“You did?” Flip asks, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he leans back in his seat to enjoy what has already been and promises to be quite a show. Legs spread wide and hands gripping the arm rests he hasn’t really even heard what you said. Instead he is focusing every single brain cell on the cleavage that is visible through the red peacoat he’s never seen you wear, chest now slightly exposed as you slowly slide off the scarf you’d used to obscure it.
“Yeah. I heard you wanted to love on me but couldn’t because of work,” you say in a low voice, scooting forward so that one leg dangles off the edge of the desk on the outside of Flip’s left thigh while you place your other foot on the edge of his chair to the right of his other thigh. His gaze flits to the expanse of inner thigh that is now visible to him, your legs bare beneath the peacoat despite the freezing mid-February chill outside. His hand shoots up to smooth over your thigh, warming your skin, just as his brain catches up to your words.
“Now where exactly did you hear that, sugar?” He asks with a small frown. One of your hands reaches out to his shoulder, pulling him in his wheeled office chair closer to you and the desk. The same hand slides down his shoulder to smooth back and forth over the plane of his chest, just as your other hand threads into his hair.
“I can’t go around divulging my secrets,” you say breathily, leaning forward and arresting his lips in a sensuous kiss. You are the first to deepen it, tongue flitting over his lips to beg for entrance before plunging into the depths of his mouth. You kiss him greedily like you’re seeking the breath from his lungs to be the source of your own oxygen. Like the pressure of his lips on yours will warm the late winter cold from your bones. When you slide off the desk and into his lap, straddling his thick denim-clad thighs, Flip moans into the kiss, making you break away with a pleased hum. You relish in the look of his kiss-bruised lips, red and wet from the fervor of your contact. “Maybe cupid dropped by with a little message. Told me to come on down here and drive you wild.”
Flip’s breathing deeply at this point but the new intake of air seems to get the gears moving better in his mind. He frowns.
“And by cupid you mean Ron.”
“Bingo, baby,” you confirm with a smile before pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Don’t be mad at him, though. He told me how you tried to make tonight special for me and that you’d probably bite off the heads of everyone working the night shift if I didn’t make my way down here quick.”
“I set something up. I did what I could, things just kept going wrong…”
“Shhh….” Your kisses migrate from his forehead to his cheek, pressing into his dimples till his frown smooths out and his eyes close again. Only then do you move down to mouth at the column of his throat, pressing your lips to his Adam’s apple. “So how many are there?”
“How many what?” he asks distractedly, eyes still closed.
“Dead bodies of people who had the misfortune to cross paths with my grumpy mountain man?” you ask, the smile clear in your voice though you speak the words into his skin. Flips hands tighten around your hips.
“I’m only grumpy because you deserve the fuckin’ moon and I’m stuck here behind a desk.”
“Well, if you haven’t noticed,” you say, angling in his lap so that your lower back leans against the edge of the desk behind you. “I am also behind the desk with you. So maybe it’s not all bad.”
It is at this point that you pop the few buttons at the front of our coat, allowing it to drop open and reveal the gauzy, see-through red negligee you are wearing beneath. It comes down only to the tops of your thighs, but most important of all, you are completely bare beyond the fabric. Your breasts are held in the negligee’s sheer lace cups, nipples hard, and not a scrap of panties obstructs his view of your cunt, evidently glistening from this angle, even through the garment.  
“Sugar.” He intones it soft, deep. It’s a statement. A warning as his eyes slide back up your body to lock on your own hungry stare. “You’re just looking for trouble here.”
With a devious smile you settle forward again, rolling your pelvis this time to rub your heat conspicuously over the growing bulge in his jeans.
“You can punish me later, Flip,” you whisper softly in his ear as you reach down to unbuckle his belt. “When you get home. But for now let me reward you.”
“What’s there to reward me for, darlin’?” Flip asks, helping you rid him of his belt and unfasten the buttons of his Levi’s. He’s not even sure why he’s pressing the matter. You’re here, rubbing your gorgeous body all of his in the middle of his workplace like some fucking fever dream and here he is, practically reminding you of his unworthiness. In some kind of verbal act of self-flagellation.
“Flip Zimmerman,” you chide, even as you pull his half-hard dick out of the opening you’ve made in his pants, careful to keep the rest of his clothing neat. “There’s always something to reward you for.” You begin applying a few measured strokes to his length, squeezing at the base and rolling your wrist to smooth the motion up to his tip.
“Fuck,” Flip grunts quietly, his head dropping to hit the back of the chair.
“This morning you sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal. Last night you handed me that lotion that smells like jasmine when I got out of the shower, the one I love so much.” You kiss his jaw as you say this and let your eye lashes flutter against his cheek in the process.
“Those are little things. Nothing,” Flip argues, still mentally kicking himself for the knee-jerk way he keeps dragging this on. Living in this guilt despite your loving ministrations which suggest you feel exactly the opposite.
“They aren’t little to me,” you say, your tone abruptly serious and your fingers digging into his jaw to keep him looking at you. “You read to me on Sunday afternoons. You take me camping whenever you get time off.”
Your tone returns to its original gentleness and you duck your head so that you can nip at Flip’s earlobe. Your hand continues its steady pace on his cock, thumb swirling around in the precum collecting on his tip.
“You fuck me. Good and hard and slow and fast and every which way I need it.” He’s painfully hard now, both from your hand and from your focused attention on him. From the words falling from your lips. He gazes back at you with blackened eyes and massages the skin of your hips and ass with his large, warm hands. You lick the shell of his ear then, marveling in the way it always turns red and hot, regardless of his confidence, regardless of his dominance. “You meet my needs, Flip, every day. And today is just any old day. So just like you do for me, I’m going to meet your needs, and you’re going to enjoy it.”
You say this as you lift yourself up with the muscles of your thighs and line him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock just as you get to the last few words. Flip immediately mutters a string of hushed curses, fingers digging into your hips through your gauzy negligee so hard you’re already looking forward to the bruises. He breathes through his nose, his labored exhales fanning across your face as you work to adjust to him, eventually swiveling your hips a bit.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours. Your face is screwed up in pleasure-pain and you huff out a laugh.
“No, you’re just fucking huge.” Your statement gets a groan from him and you smirk as you begin to lift yourself up and down on Flip’s cock with his help. Your walls pulse, stroking his cock as your tongue moves on to stroking his ego. “You’re so big, Flip. Too big. I can barely take you.”
“You’re taking me just fine, sugar,” he shakes his head, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you grind into him on a down motion. “So wet. This little pussy takes me so well.”
“You fill me up, Flip. Stuff me – ohhh fuck – stuff me so full I think I might burst.” You reach one hand back to grip the edge of the desk for leverage while your other hand digs into the skin of his shoulder.
“Oh for me you do burst, baby. You burst and gush all over me like the good girl you are,” Flip whispers into your clavicle when you throw your head back, an automatic response to him beginning to aid you by thrust up into your quivering cunt himself. This sounds more like your Flip. Confident and powerful. Pressing all the right buttons to drive you wild. “My good girl.”
“I love it when you call me that,” you admit softly.
“A good girl?”
“Your good girl,” you correct.
“My good girl,” Flip repeats and your pussy clenches around him hard in response. So naturally Flip says it again. “You’re my good girl.”
Your breathing has increased rapidly, spurred on in no small part by the way one of his hands has snaked up to pluck a breast from its lacy confines. His head dips to suck your nipple into his mouth and you hum.
“Who’s good girl are you?” Flip asks into your breasts.
“I’m your good girl.”
You begin ridding him harder, faster. The slick seeping onto his cock around your swollen lips indicates that you’re farther along than he’d expect, a suspicion that you soon confirm with a whimper.
“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”
“Really?” he asks, incredulous. He’s used to marathon lovemaking. Even a quick fuck in a bathroom stall usually becomes indulgent for you two, trading speed for roughness and lewdness.
“I kind of…got ready before I – ah! – came here.” You bite your lip as you say it and Flip resists the urge to pull your lip out and claim it for himself.
“And by ‘got ready’ you mean…” he prompts, a wicked smile spreading on his face.
“I touched myself,” you admit, no shame in your words. “I touched myself while thinking about my handsome man and his handsome cock and the way it was going to fill me when I came over here.”
Flip grabs one of your hands then, zeroing in on your fingers. All the while he keeps thrusting up into you, feet flat on the floor and muscles rippling throughout his body with the effort.
“Did these fingers rub your little clit?”
“Yes,” you say, still confident. Flip licks a stripe up your index and middle finger, almost as if doing so would allow him to taste remnants of your essence.
“Did you stuff them inside your pussy. Press that little spot inside you like so much?” As he says it he thrusts up and forward, making his cock drag against your front wall in a way that’s got you buckling in on yourself.
“Oh god oh yes. Yes!” You’re trying to remain as quiet as possible but it’s getting harder by the second. The station was empty save for Flip when you’d arrive but soon other people would return. A fact that made your pussy drool all the more on Flip’s throbbing cock.
Flip watches you fall apart in his arms and speeds up the process by sucking on your fingertips, splitting them apart with his tongue and laving each equally. You swallow a moan as he brings your own wetted fingers down to the apex of your thighs.
“Show me,” he breathes, moving forward to kiss your lips. “Show me what I do to you.”
You begin rubbing your clit just as Flip assaults your senses in all other ways. He captures your mouth in a kiss while simultaneously returning to kneading at your breasts with abandon, tugging and squeezing at the pillowy flesh.
“Did you cry out my name in that empty house when you came?” he prompts. You shake your head feverishly, your thighs shaking around him as your climax nears.
“No. I didn’t cum. I saved that for you.”
In a flash of blinding pleasure, you unraveling on top of him, careful to suppress the reaction to little gasps and whimpers instead of the loud praise and guttural moans you would have preferred to let out. The suddenness of your orgasm catches Flip off guard and he is utterly unprepared for the way your walls flutter and pulse, ultimately milking his cock of his own release. You collapse in his arms with a shaky laugh, one he’s only able to reciprocate when the ringing in his ears begin to lessen and his heart stops trying to pound a route out of his chest.
You both revel in the afterglow for a few minutes after, holding each other like you aren’t in his office in the middle of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Like people aren’t about to file in after their dinner break, bellies full and completely unaware of the fact that Flip had just railed you into next February.
After a while, Flip finally pulls out and tucks himself away, once again the picture of professionalism. Or at least, as much the picture of professionalism as Flip cares to appear, what with his eternal flannel and comfortably warm in jeans, the wet patch of your arousal finally fading. He helps you clean up with some napkins he has stashed in a drawer, ultimately bundling you back up in your coat and scarf. You now look sweet and warm again, a stark contrast to the vixen who had crawled across his desk and stripped for him.
Now descent, you settle back into his lap sideways, opting not to straddle him tis time in case someone did finally walk in. You run a finger through the hair at his chin.
“You said earlier you said you’d ended up setting something up for me. What was it?”
Flip blinks at your question for a few seconds before letting out a laugh that ripples from deep in his belly.
“I sent Jimmy and his brother with a box of chocolates over to the house. They were supposed to sing you a Motown duet.”
“I would pay to hear that. When are they supposed to get there?”
“They’re supposed to arrive right now.”
With that you dissolve into a fit of laughter, falling into his chest as you heave from it. Flip’s arms wind around you and tug you tighter to him. And in that moment, he almost believes in this stupid holiday. Almost believes in the cartoon hearts and the fat little winged baby that flies around shooting people. What else could possibly explain the sharp pain radiating from his chest when he looks at you? The ache that dulls as it floods to his extremities, simmering into a warmth that fills him from head to toe? All Flip can think as he smooths his thumb over your smiling lips is that cupid better have a up-to-date permit for that bow of his.  
~*~
Tagging some lovelies <3 (please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @equivocalrabbit @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess
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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago
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Mark, this is how we broke up
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idol!Mark Lee x reader // SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST (?) Summary: She taught him how to fuck but there’s so much more going on in their relationship. Word Count: 6k Warnings: Sex, Sex, Sex, actual sex and mentions of sex, filthy, mentions of rough sex, mentions of forced sex, emotionally unstable Mark, slightly addicted to sex, Mentions of other idols, mentions of birth control side effects, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex and protected sex, cursing, mature or at least trying to be Note: inspired by the recent breakup that I had. There’s no way that this ‘might’ be true. We all know Mark is a nice boy. If you’re not okay with any of the warning please click away.
“Ohh- Mark! Right there!”
“Right here? Hmm?” Mark puts more pressure on her clit and eventually pinches it to make her sensitive. Her legs closed and she received a juicy smack on her ass, “Why are you closing your legs? Don’t you like what I’m doing, huh?” his mouth is near her ear, every heavy breath, groan or moan from him goes directly to her ear and straight to her pussy.
With all the energy she still have, she praises Mark while he continues to fuck her senseless. Both of his hands are on the side of her head, having a full view of Mark’s ethereal visuals. Blonde sex hair flowing as he moves back and forth, his thin silver necklace dangling on his neck, his face completely contorted as he fucks her good.
Mark leans on her to suck on her boobs putting her completely on edge and is about to have a great orgasm. Mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, her hands raking Mark’s arms as she ask him to “please stop” but Mark will only stop when he wants to. Because of her high pitch moan and sharp exhales, Mark knew she had a great orgasm which feeds his pride more.
Gritting his teeth, he lifted his hips and gave her sharp quick thrusts while she’s still sensitive from her previous orgasms. “Hold on just a bit, I’m almost there” he whispers. He fucks the girl like he’s proving something, catching his own release and making the girl beneath him cry from over stimulation. He groaned a little too loud, but he doesn’t care. It’s his own damn apartment.
Removing his cock inside her throbbing hole, Mark rolls to the side and discarded the condom, throwing it to the trash near his bed. He watches the girl shiver beside him, closing her legs tight to ease the sensitivity. With one touch of Mark’s cold fingers on her shoulder, the girl let out a whine. “Relax, I’m just helping you calm down and cover your body” he said as he covers the girl with his thick blue sheets.
Head resting on the headboard with both of his hands pillowing his head, the room was cold and quiet as Mark lay beside her naked with a soft cock. “I’m a hooker but, you’re something- there’s something to the way you fuck” she started a conversation after calming down. “It’s getting late, I’ll call you a cab” he avoids the subject politely.
After the hooker left, Mark feels lonely again in his big apartment. Thinking about what the hooker told him earlier. It made him have flashbacks he didn’t want to have. He’s lonely enough right now, he can’t afford to think about you. But it’s too late. He’s now swimming to the happy memories he had with you, trying so hard not to think about how he ruined a once in a lifetime relationship and just focused on how your smile gives warmth to his heart.
“I miss you, y/n” he murmurs before he drifts into sleep, hoping to dream about you.
FOUR YEARS AGO
You’re starting your new life in Korea with a job at one of the country’s biggest company, SM Entertainment as part of NCT’s creative team specifically on fashion deparment. The job was stressful and tiring but theres nothing you could not handle, you love what you do. Working for NCT made you love the members like your own brother, all except for one member. Mark Lee.
It all started when you realised that Mark is not a boy anymore but a man who wants to gain experience with mature stuff. You and Mark eye each other during music video and vlog shoots and you both grew fondly, sneakily hold hands under the table during company dinners, texting and calling nonstop when you don’t see each other for weeks.
Mark has always been sweet to you and he’s not ashamed to show you how he feels. One time they used flowers as props for the shoot and Mark secretly put a flower near your stuff with a note, “You did well today.” He bought Starbucks drinks for all the staffs so he could give you your favorite drink freely and without hiding, “Noona, this is for you. Fighting for today.” Whenever other members are flirting with you, he will stop the members from bugging you and tell them, “Noona already has a boyfriend, don’t bother flirting” and it always makes you blush how Mark is so overprotective.
You and Mark became more than friends but less than lovers for almost half a year. And Mark’s constant want to make you feel love pushed him to ask you out officially. Taking you on private dates around Seoul, making time for you and letting the members and his manager know about your relationship.
Since you’re Mark’s first girlfriend, he’s not a perfect boyfriend. At least not yet. He always picks up a fight with you, decides recklessly when it comes to your relationship, and he’s moving so fast. “I’m just saying that if we start living together, we will fight less and we can have more time together” he said as he argues to you on the phone.
You don’t answer him because it’s useless, he will somehow get what he wants because he has the money, and you love him. Mark let out sharp exhale on the phone, “Okay I’m sorry. I’m being childish again. I’ll stop by at your apartment after dance practice. I love you”
He arrived at 11pm in your apartment with his manager. “Take care of him y/n, he has a headache. A bad one. Overworked I guess” his manager said before leaving you and Mark. Your boyfriend kiss you on the lips and greeted you, “Hi” weak and sleepy, Mark hugged you tight.
While watching him eat dinner he tells you everything about his day at work, how he’s preparing for three comebacks these past few months and he needs to finish writing four songs in two weeks. “Good thing I have you by the end of the day, right?” he said after finishing his meal. You hand him some painkillers for his headache, “Yes. Now, come to bed with me. No more working please, Mark. Even the best people in the world rest at night” realising that you’re right, he nods and let you take him to your bedroom.
“What will I do without you” he whispers to you before going to sleep with you.
The thing is, many people don’t know that Mark is actually vulnerable and emotionally unstable. Sometimes he’s not confident with his songs and he needs you to help him write because he only trusts what you say. If you say this phrase is good, or you honestly don’t like the words in this song he will take your word from it. That’s how much he depends on you. And sometimes, it puts you in a hard position because Mark is depending on you all the time is a heavy responsibility.  
It’s like he really can’t get everything done without you or without your opinion. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the other members, it just so happens that your opinion matters above anything else.
Mark may be too sweet and gentle most of the time, but he’s horny for you. Really horny. Whenever you’re alone with him in your apartment he always initiates having sex and you always say no and he respects that. You’re definitely not a virgin anymore and you have way too much experience, but Mark doesn’t. It’s not a problem of course, but you just wan’t to take it slow. Wait for the perfect time to finally have sex.
Mark being the virgin in this relationship and the one who lacks experience, he tries so hard to ruin his innocence before the day you two finally have sex. Watching tons of porn and take notes to some stuff he can do with you, working out more so he can at least look good in bed.
Sure you’ve done other stuff together, from making out wherever and whenever to giving oral to each other in the morning or before you both go to sleep. Back when Mark saw you  half naked in bed for the first time he didn’t know how to touch you, you used to teach him how to properly touch you in the way you like to be touched by your boyfriend. Now, he’s the one surprising you in bed whenever your legs are widely spread for him and his head is in between you eating your pussy like there’s no tomorrow.
After dating for nine months, Mark convinced you to live together as your birthday gift to him. “Please, you know how much I want live with you” he pout in front of you while you take his body measurements for a new stage costume. He worked hard last year and he bought himself his first own apartment and he told you he wanted to share it with you. How can you refuse that kind of offer when he’s trying so hard to be a part of your life, forever.
You moved in with Mark and you filled his apartment with happy memories, never ending laughter and giggles because he’s a funny guy. The kitchen became a learning place for him because you teach him how to cook almost everyday and he’s doing great. Peaceful mornings are both your favorite, it makes him feel like a normal person who cooks breakfast for you and waking up with his girlfriend in his arms is something not normal for an idol.
“This place is our safe place, only for us. No fan service for me, no boss for you to please. Just Mark and Y/n.”
Lately work is not giving you a hard time and so does Mark. You two always go home together, spend more time together, and finally had the perfect time to be more intimate. It’s been like this for almost a week already, It’s a Friday night and after having dinner and taking a warm bath before bed, you and Mark found each other in the middle of bed cuddling. Hands intertwined and legs all tangled up.
“What if I tell you, we could finally have sex tonight?” you asked him. Ruffling his damped hair from his hot shower.
“I’d say, ‘tsk. don’t tease me’” he said with a small smile in his face. His breath touches your cheeks because you’re too close with each other.
“No, seriously we can”
He pull away from your embrace, just a little to look at your face if you’re serious. “Scratch that, I’d say ‘what’s gotten into you?’” he dives in for a slow kiss, cupping your face with one hand while the other is still intertwined with yours.
Seeing you unbutton your sleepwear made him realise that you’re serious. He kissed you more and removes his shirt and sweat pants leaving him with only his boxer briefs. You on the other hand is exposed wearing only your white panties.
Feeling excited and a bit nervous, Mark slowly crawled in between your legs and he looks handsome than ever. It’s not your first time but you feel like a virgin again, that untouched seventeen year old. Mark smiled at you before he removes your panties, watching his own hands slide your underwear down.
He came close to you just beside your ear giggling like a little boy, “I’m nervous” he said and proceeds to kiss your neck. It seems like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you can’t blame him for being honest. “I’ll be vocal as possible” he hums in approval and continues to kiss every inch of your body.
He managed to remove his boxer briefs while licking your wet pussy, your eyes are closed and your hands are tugging his soft hair. Moaning his name whenever his tongue hits a good spot, putting more pressure and intensity bringing you to your first orgasm. Mark became really good at giving you oral you thought.
“I think you’re ready” he whispered as he grabs the condom on the drawer beside the bed. While you watch him roll the condom on his cock, your heart skipped a beat when he faced you and hold your legs open. The next thing you know, he’s slamming his dick in your pussy making you shout and jolt your hips beneath him, “Ah! Easy- baby, Im not going anywhere!”
The whole time you were having sex, he was not minding about your pleasure. He was so focused on his own sweet release and he can see that you’re not liking it but you let him continue.
Given that it’s Mark’s first time, the first round didn’t go well. “Do you want me to takeover?” you feel bad about it, but to be honest you wan’t Mark to never forget this night the night he losses his virginity. He hugs you tight while he’s on top of you feeling really ashamed of what he just did.
“There’s no need to feel shy baby. We have all night and a lot of days to have great sex. Come on, I’ll ride you” he’s still not moving and still hugging you tight, caressing your hair and enjoying your warm body beneath him.
“Okay baby, I need to breath. You’re heavy ugh-“ you tricked him and he didn’t have a choice but to pull away. You laughed and switched positions, putting your legs on both sides of his hips wetting his cock with you wet pussy. He felt your pussy raw for the first time and he loves it, holding your hips and as you slowly grind on top of him. “I got you” you leaned forward to give him a peck on on the lips.
His right arm swings to his head, as if he can’t believe what’s happening. Moaning your name so deliciously, “Oh, it feels good” he said with an airy tone. His mouth is open the whole time you were grinding on his cock, stopping himself from cumming too early. You grabbed a new condom on the drawer, and rolled it on his hard cock.
“Now put inside me” you said oh so sexily. With shaking hands, he lines his cock to your cunt and he watched how your pussy swallow his thick cock and let out a soft ‘fuck’ when it fully disappeared. You smile on top of him as you wait for yourself to get used from the stretch before moving. Both of your hands are on his chest as you watch him moan and move his head from side to side while you clench and unclench your pussy.
“I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that” he voiced out, you only let out a small chuckle.
“Try to stop cumming so early and enjoy it, Mark” you finally move your hips, grinding slowly, fucking him like how he deserves to be fucked. Mark’s hands grips on your hips so tightly the whole time you were fucking him slowly, making sure he won’t forget this moment. He’s peeking from his lashes, trying to get a look at you while you fuck him for the first time in his life.
“I’m glad you’re my first fuck” he said, trying to smile at you with hooded eyes, head rolled back to the pillows on his head and looking so fucking hot as he enjoys the pleasure you’re giving right now.
When you’ve had enough of slow fucking him, you tighten you grip on his shoulder and doubled your pace. Making you both moan each other’s name, his cock is finally making you feel good. You feel Mark’s cock twitch inside you and leaned closer to him, kissing him passionately as you bring him to edge.
To your surprise he bit your lower lip when he finally reached his climax with mouth open, eyes closed and brows furrowed. You smiled beneath him as you watch him cum and shiver, his hands still gripping both of your ass cheeks.
As he slowly open his eyes, he gave you a sweet smile and his tight grip became soft touches around your back. You flop on top of him as he caress your hair again. “How’s that for our first time?” you asked him, still weak from his orgasm.
“I still feel bad because I can’t fuck you good though” he said, but he looks happy now. You switched positions again so he could have the honour of pulling out after having a mind blowing orgasm. Slowly pulling out his dick, Mark watched your pussy stretched while he pull out. Kissing it like it’s your lips and apologising for not making you cum using his dick, on your first night having sex.
“Thank you for this. I mean, I should be the one making it special for you. But I failed and like, I really feel bad about it but like, I don’t know. Somehow it went wrong” he pulls the thick sheets to cover your naked bodies and lay beside you. Keeping you close and admiring your beautiful face.
“It’s not like you didn’t tried making me feel good, baby. You made me feel good too, I wouldn’t be wet the entire time if-“ in the middle of your explanation he put a finger on your slit and checked if you’re telling the truth and if you’re still good to go for another round. “you startled me” you said, enjoying the way his fingers move slowly.
“Want to give me a second chance?”
Without hesitation, you nod your head and kissed Mark sloppily. Mark is a fast learner, you didn’t know but the whole time you were fucking him earlier he was observing how you want things. He found out that he should take things slow, entering your tight pussy and looking directly in your eyes this time, “Mark, how did you know I’m in love with your eyes? Ah! fuck!” his hips moves slow and it feels way better than the first and second time.
The third round made Mark a little confident on fucking you, he made you moan his name, grip his shoulder, close your eyes and open your mouth as you ask for more. He was asking you how can he make you feel better even though you’re already batshit losing your mind on how good he feels inside you.
‘How fast do you want me to go? Hmm?’ ‘Baby, can I bite your nipples?’ ‘Clench all you want baby, I won’t cum before you do I promise’ ‘Want me to kiss you here? Okay’
‘What? You want another round after this? Me too’
“I love you” he whispered while thrusting with a steady pace that you specifically asked. Kissing you while he wait for a response. He chuckled and felt proud when he saw you smile and out of words. Finally, he made you cum using his dick, with a little help of his fingers putting on your clit.
Feeling so accomplished before he finally sleep after using all five condoms that he have. He hugged you tight and whispered how in love he is with you but you’re already sleeping. Kissing you good night as you don’t know how happy Mark Lee is.
After that unforgettable night, you and Mark have sex almost everyday and just as you expected he became more confident in bed and even more sexier as each day passes. Sometimes he can be a little bit more filthier and rougher in bed, like that one time when he spits on your pussy, putting back your panties on and fucked you good wearing those ruined panties.
And that one time when he was so tired from practice, he fucked you really rough that night. Skipping foreplay and slamming his hard cock inside your dry pussy, “Mark! I’m not yet ready” you said as you try pushing his body away from you but he said, “I don’t care” in the most sexiest way ever and it turned you on. He apologised later after that night and he never did it again, because he knew it was wrong. But you said you liked it and it was pretty hot.
The members noticed Mark’s glow whenever you two had a great fuck from the night before and they always tease him for not being a baby anymore. His experience with sex made him write more songs about it. About you. Which the managers loved without a doubt and because of that Mark goes home to you every night with a big smile. Tired but happy.
You stopped using condoms when you finally took birth control shots. Having sex without a condom is new to Mark but this time, everything went well. You completely can’t get enough of each other, you passed out that night from too much fucking.
During his back to back to back comebacks and preparations with NCT 127 and SuperM, you both had busy schedules and stressful days because of work. And he comes home tired, sometimes frustrated and mad. You had sex more often because of stress and usually Mark is the one asking for it. Day and night, before you both leave for work and at night before you sleep.
If theres peace, chaos will somehow enter your lives. The side effects of the birth control shots was ten times harder than taking a normal birth control pill and it’s causing the fight in your relationship most of the time. Whenever Mark wants to have sex but you don’t because you don’t feel well due to the side effects, he sometimes make his way to you and convince you eventually. “You won’t move, I promise to do all the work” but the sex itself makes you sick even more.
You wanted to stop taking the birth control shot but Mark insist, telling you that it’s much safer than condoms. The thought of Mark getting you pregnant would brought chaos to the world, both of your careers would be ruined plus neither one of you is ready to be a parent. So you did it for Mark, you continued taking the birth control shot even though you really don’t want to.  
He’s not always like this, he’s only an asshole whenever he’s really really stressed at work which happens thrice a week, and the fight will usually last a week long. This happened during the preparation for Kick It era and Punch era and SM were making you both work like crazy.
Sometimes Mark sleeps at the dorms after yelling at you and picking a fight with you, “I make time so we could spend quality time together but you always make me feel like shit by refusing to make love and spend time with me. I don’t get you anymore!”
And sometimes you force yourself to work overtime just so you could forget the fight and have a breather. “Stay mad all you want, I don’t care I have work to do”
Most of the time it’s always job over the relationship and you notice Mark’s slight addiction on having sex with you. Not that he became a sex addict, no. Maybe he’s just really stress and he depends to you a lot, that’s why.
Even though the red flags were all bright and waving, you just brush it off and still stay with Mark. But one time you tried telling it to him, and he didn’t take it well. Anger clouded his mind, “Just tell me to stop having sex with you and stop accusing me.” It hurts when Mark doesn’t listen to what you feel and seeing him leave for practice without even looking to you straight up makes your heart ache.
When you didn’t come home because of work one night and Mark stayed up late waiting for you, the thought of you not living with him anymore and you leaving him in general scared the shit out of him. He went back to SM building to apologise, only to find you sleeping soundly in a small couch, curled up to an uncomfortable position but you’re tired already.
“Baby” he woke you in the most quiet way possible not wanting your officemates to wake up and see him. Thankfully your sleep was not that deep and you heard Mark’s whispers, “Mark?” you whisper back.
“Come home, please?” you came home with him without hesitation, scared that the other employees might see him if he stayed longer in public with you.
Mark always find a way to talk it out and make amends. He will need you and you will always understand him and everything will be peaceful for a few days or if you get lucky, weeks. But life will always find a way to make you two fight and make up, and do it over and over again. Breaking up was never a solution, Mark knew that all too well. He can’t live without you.
Sex feels good again lately and you haven’t fought for over three weeks already. He’s been incredibly sweet and caring, taking you out on dates and helping you with work whenever he can. Honestly you’ve been pretty worried about him, he’s been having anxiety and worries about his songs lately. Even questioning his own profession, ‘What if being an idol is not for me? Like, what if I have a different calling that’s why I suck at what I do now?” Mark throwing you questions like this makes you love him harder. Pouring every support you can give to him and stretch your patience more for him. His mental health becomes more and more unstable and it went on like this for roughly half a year already.
The past few months were quiet as if peace has taken over your lives again. Mornings became more peaceful and Mark makes love with you instead of just having sex for the sake of stress release. Kick It and Punch were both successful, now you’re both enjoying your long awaited rest eating watermelons in bed. Even though you’re both aware about Mark’s unstable mental state, life can still be sweet and beautiful because of the love you share.
“I’d trade any moment for peaceful times like this with you” he said, “our second year anniversary is coming” he scrunched his nose in front of you while munching. “I have the best gift for you and you won’t guess it this time” he speaks proud and you smirk at him, feeling excited about it. “I don’t want anything in this world. Just never leave me” he added.
Rest days are always your favorite because you two can stay in bed the whole day, watch Netflix, sing in the shower together for almost two hours, dates around Seoul, shopping together, have lazy sex, have filthy sex. In other words, no calls from work or idol schedules for Mark.
“Are you trying to get me pregnant?” you giggle as you brush Mark’s hair away from his face. Feeling his soft skin against yours, touching his muscles while you come down from your high.
“Maybe” kiss, “what if I am?” kiss, “I miss having fun like this in bed with you” kiss. Mark is siting in bed with you on top of him, sitting on his lap. His head in resting on the head board, arms around your body. He has a full view of your boobs and your glowing face.
“You know I like seeing you cum on top of me” you hum in approval, “three more rounds? What do you say?” he waits for your answer, not forcing you this time. Making sure he won’t do what he did from the past that made you hate him and cry in bed. Mark almost lost you that night.
Of course you want three more rounds in bed with Mark. “That’s my girl” he licks the valley between your boobs, hugging you close as you use his cock inside you for your own sweet release. Arms around his neck, you push him closer to your chest as he bites your nipples and eventually sucking them. “Mark, that feels good” you moan to make sure he won’t stop doing what he’s doing.
“C-close, Mark I’m close”
He lowers your body as he takes over on thrusting in you on top of his lap. Gripping and tugging anything you could find in bed as he fucks you senseless making your boobs bounce in front of him, lust taking over him fully. “Fuuuck!” you screamed and quickly hugged him to stop, he got the message. Hands caressing your bare back as you shiver on top of Mark’s lap, legs weak as you flop back down to the mattress making Mark giggle and draw small circles on your nipple as he lays beside you. After two more rounds, you begged him for one more round and ride him good as a thank you for making you feel good the whole night.  
“My stylist said I should go for a striking pink for SuperM comeback, I don’t know if that will suit me… Will it? Do you think I should go for it?” again with his dependancy to you.  
Mark is at a hair salon with Taeyong getting their hair done and ready for SuperM comeback happening in less than a week. Hearing that he will have a striking pink hair made you stop what you’re doing and imagine what he would look like. “Are you sure this is not about loving watermelons?” He giggled through the phone, “No.”
When he came home with a striking pink hair, you laughed at him but deep inside he looks handsome. “Well, you look yummy” you kissed him and smelled his hair. He picked you up bridal style and ran to your shared bedroom and tickled you until you cry tears of joy.
Tomorrow is your second anniversary and you can’t spend it together because he’s busy with SuperM promotions. Mark is a simple man who likes simplicity and nothing too fancy in life so looking for a really good anniversary gift is challenge. But you can’t give up. You decided to buy him a new guitar, similar with the one has but somewhat better and different. Inside the guitar there’s a written simple message that he can read whenever he’s doubting again.
It’s already five in the morning and Mark will leave in fifteen minutes. When you open your eyes, you see a cute Mark Lee kissing you until you wake up. He smells clean, his fingertips are cold against your skin, “Happy anniversary. This is one out of two for my anniversary gift” he slips a silver ring on your left ring finger which perfectly fits.
“It’s a promise ring if you’re wondering. I promise to be a better boyfriend. And I saw your gift by the way. I love it. I can’t wait to use it and sing to you after promotions. Just hang in there okay? I love you”
You went got up and it’s surprisingly cold, still sleepy and tired from last night, you saw a bouquet of flowers on top of the coffee table and a paper that contains Girls Generation’s members signature. Complete and framed. It made you happy and laugh because he used his idol card again just to make you smile over the silliest things.
The SuperM promotions was longer than expected but Mark is having a great time with his Hyungs. While Mark is away you’re work keeps on piling up because the company transferred you from NCT to Red Velvet, which you enjoyed because now you’re making costumes for girls.
You and Mark focused on work and it didn’t made you feel angry in fact, you think that Mark being away can make you focus better at work. You realised that you’re better off away from each other. As days and weeks go by, you think about moving out of Mark’s apartment. But he wouldn’t let you do it so you think of another plan.
Mark has been calling you for days already and you only answer just for the sake of telling him that you’re fine. From there on Mark sensed something wrong and the feeling doesn’t sit well on him. Being far from you makes him overthink stuff and imagine things that has the worst case scenario. Like you, getting tired of him because he’s emotionally unstable.
It’s almost midnight and you were just finishing work when Mark came out of nowhere and surprised you. “Surprise! I’m home! Oh, I’ve missed you so much” he said and showered your cheeks with kisses his hug getting tighter and tighter.
You irritatedly pushed him away.
“Okay- that’s new” he let out a sigh, “What did I do now?”
You crossed your arms and lean on the wall, you don’t know how to say it but you’ve made up your mind. You’re going to leave him. “I’m breaking up with you” He stopped listening after you said it.
“It’s funny how I saw this coming but still I had faith with you! I had faith with you that you will not chose to leave me, but fuck-“ he punched the wall, completely hurting his hand you wanted to come to him so bad and made him stop hurting himself but you can’t. To be honest his ears rang, he was light headed and he feel like throwing up. Tiredness and breakup in the middle of the night is not a good mixture.
“Don’t get me wrong please, I don’t hate you. I want to fix this baby, I tried thinking about about solutions and guess what we already tried everything and were still a mess. It bothers me. Knowing that we all have these problems all along and ignoring it over and over again- it’s bothering me baby. We can’t fix it, we can’t fix us”
Admitting that fighting for the relationship made you tired, is a hard pill to swallow. And it hurts because choosing to love yourself this time will hurt him. His emotional dependancy, the sex, and now you don’t know if you want the same things in life anymore.
You wanted to choose yourself this time and do what’s best for you. Because in the past two years, you’ve doing everything what’s best for Mark and Mark only because that’s how you love him. And leaving him is how you can love yourself.
“A week” he blurted out while you were in the moment of pouring out all your concerns. “A week off baby, let’s give each other some space” he kissed your forehead and left you. After what happened he figured, for sure you don’t want to sleep on the same bed with him.  
The space that Mark asked for just made him missed you, it made him realised how he’s been taking your patience for granted and how he’s using every part of your being for his own good. He wanted to fix that. He wanted to fix it so badly.
Looking back over the years, he remembered how you didn’t want to live together but he made you because it’s his birthday wish. ‘Mark how can you ask something like that?’ he told himself, hating himself more.
He remembered how you didn’t want to take birth control shots anymore because you’re having side effects already. And instead of being concerned he got mad at you. Mark told the story to Johnny and he just gave him a ’Tsk. I’m very disappointed’
While forcing himself to write lyrics with Taeyong on a Monday night, he kept on telling Taeyong that he needs your opinion first about the first words that he wrote already. Mark got an earful from Taeyong, ‘you shouldn’t depend on her always! You don’t how heavy it might be for her! Tsk. Do you think she knows anything about what we do here? She has her own profession! She studied years and years for it, how can you do this to her?’ of course Taeyong is always right.
On Wednesday night, you broke up officially with Mark.
“I think we should continue living separately from now on, Mark” you removed the promise ring that he gave you and put it in front of him. He was quiet the whole time, but he understands, blaming himself of course. He understands that now it’s all about you.
“They say if you love someone and they need you don’t leave them, and we hear those words in dramas. But Mark, this isn’t fantasy this is reality that’s really heavy for me. We ignored all the red flags and I think it’s time to let go now”
During your move out, he didn’t showed up and helped you. It’s okay, you thought. You hurt him and he needs time to heal. Clearing your stuff felt like freedom and you thought it was cruel. Cruel for Mark. You feel bad because breaking up really made you feel better.
Looking at the pictures around the apartment, made you feel sad, yes. But leaving it behind and putting them down one by one made you feel free. And again you think it’s cruel because Mark don’t feel the same way, he clearly wanted push through the relationship and you clearly don’t want that.
All the more reason to break up. You don’t want the same things anymore.
Because you did great with NCT and Red Velvet, another great opportunity knocked on your door. A job in Paris. You considered not taking it because of Mark, then you remember that you two have broken up.
He came to your apartment a week after the break up, begging you to come back in his life. “I heard you left SM, baby is it because of me?” you gave him a glass of water and sat beside him, it’s been a week but he already looked like shit. Dark under eyes and no happiness in his eyes.
“Listen to me,” you reached for his hand, “It’s not because of you. I’m finally choosing me. I’m doing what’s best for me and my career. It has nothing to do with you Mark”
He went on and on again about coming back to his life, telling you promises that you know he can keep, but you don’t want to be part of it anymore. “I Promise, I will someday be okay emotionally, I want you to be beside me when that happens. I think breaking up isn’t the solution baby, do you remember how great we are together? We can fix this, we can try and then if it doesn’t work i’ll leave. I’ll never bother you again”
“How can you say breaking up is not the right thing to do now? Mark I’ve honestly never been more peaceful these past few days”
Mark didn’t need to hear other things. What you said made him realised that he used up every chance he could make up with you. He left without saying a word, keeping the pain to himself the whole drive back to the dorms. “Dude, it’s going to be okay. Were here.” Johnny, Hyuck, Taeyong and Jaehyun all listened to him cry at the car not talking to anyone of them.
PRESENT DAY. FOUR YEARS AFTER
Mark still loves you.
................................................. Masterlist
inspired by the recent breakup that I had, please don’t steal my feelings huhu. Enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!
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pianomanblaine · 3 years ago
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Down Once More
This story was written for the Potober prompts “Down Once More” and “And Now, How You Betray Me”, particularly with the words “taken hostage” and “betrayal” in mind. It resulted in an alternative version of the final lair. Fair warning: this one does not have a happy ending. 
AO3 FFN
He dragged her along the dark and damp corridors beneath the opera house at a frantic pace, his grip on her arm harsh and unrelenting, not even sparing her a backward glance as she stumbled over her own feet trying to keep up with him. Her head was still reeling from the events leading up to this moment. It had all happened so fast, yet here and now, time seemed to lose all meaning. Every separate moment seemed to fade into the next one, forming one big hazy blur. It might have been several hours or merely a few minutes before they reached the shore of the underground lake and Erik was steering the little boat across the water towards his house.
Once inside, he pushed her into the bedroom which she had come to think of as hers, and roughly thrust the wedding dress he had so painstakingly crafted for her into her arms. He did not leave the room, did not even turn around to give her the smallest bit of privacy as he forced her to change into it. He immediately started yanking at the fastenings of the dress she was wearing, undressing her with great urgency, letting the garment pool around her feet, and for a moment she feared that he had gone completely mad and would try to violate her. But he only barked out an order for her to put on the wedding gown as he began to agitatedly pace the floor, only occasionally glancing in her direction while she got dressed again.
When she was finished, Erik retrieved a veil – she did not see where from, he might as well have pulled it out of thin air – and forcefully pushed it onto her head. Under any other circumstances, she might have been able to appreciate how delicate and beautiful it was, with its wreath of white and pale pink flowers that contrasted so nicely against her dark brown hair. It hardly weighed anything, but to Christine it felt incredibly heavy, carrying with it the full weight of Erik’s expectations.
Now that her wedding attire was complete, Erik finally stood still long enough to fully look at her. She wondered if he was happy with what he saw. He must have imagined her in that very dress so many times. Was he satisfied now that he had what he wanted, even knowing that it was against her will? Was it all really worth it?
Before she got the chance to ask him, he turned his back on her and walked away without saying a word. She followed him into the sitting room, where a fire was burning brightly in the hearth, its warm glow a striking contrast to the icy atmosphere in the room.
“So what now?” Christine asked, breaking the tense silence between them. “Are you planning to keep me hostage here, hoping I will suddenly change my mind and agree to marry you after all? Or will you just drag me in front of a priest and threaten me until I say ‘I do’?”
“This is not exactly how I had imagined it to go either, Christine,” he snapped as he stood by the fire with his back turned towards her. “I had a plan, and it would have worked if your precious little Vicomte didn’t have to ruin it all.”
“Raoul was only trying to protect me.”
“And look where his protection got you,” Erik sneered, turning to face her with a grotesque grin on his bare face as he gestured around the room, “in the Phantom’s lair, captured by the madman!”
“I never believed you to be mad, Erik,” she replied, “but I have come to understand how dangerous you can be.”
Christine’s heart twisted painfully as she recalled the early days of their acquaintance, when she still believed he was the Angel of Music. How kind he had always been to her, how gently he had treated her. But that had changed drastically when she learned of his deception and discovered his true identity. He had continued to act as her tutor, coaxing her voice to unknown heights, and although he was never harsh or violent towards her, he had grown defensive and suspicious, always on his guard around her, as if he could not believe that she could still feel any genuine kindness towards him now that she had seen his face.
“Well yes, I suppose I am like a wild animal in that regard. When feeling threatened, I can be extremely dangerous indeed,” Erik agreed. He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, his tall frame towering over her. He seemed to be challenging her, daring her to look at the face of the monster.
“Should I be afraid then?” she asked, rising to the challenge and looking straight into his strange yellow eyes.
At first he merely seemed surprised, maybe even impressed, by her bravery as she stood her ground and faced him without flinching, but by the way his face fell only a moment later, she could tell when the meaning of her words hit him. He turned away as he spoke.
“Of course not. I never meant for you to be scared of me. I never intended you any harm.” He took a few steps back, as if to prove his point, as if he hoped to seem less threatening if he stood a little further away from her.
“Kidnapping me is a strange way of showing it,” Christine huffed.
His posture stiffened at the accusation. “You didn’t exactly leave me much choice, did you?” he said through clenched teeth. “You betrayed me!”
“I betrayed you?” she gasped in disbelief, her hands balling into fists by her sides. “Do you want to talk about betrayal, Erik? Do you want to discuss how you lied to me for years, pretending to be an angel sent by my dead father to watch over me? How you blackmailed the managers into doing your bidding, how you terrorized Carlotta and God knows how many others?”
“Don’t you understand? I did it all for you! Because I love you!” he roared.
“Don’t you dare blame this all on me! You killed two innocent people, Erik! How does that have anything to do with love?”
“Buquet was not innocent,” he snorted. “He was a vile lecher, a pervert preying on young defenceless ballerinas in the dark behind the stage. He got what was coming to him.”
The man was certainly no saint, Erik was right about that and Christine knew it, but how could he not see that that did not justify his murder? Even so, she might have been able to forgive him for it eventually, if it had not been for Piangi.
“Piangi never hurt anyone.”
“Piangi was in the way!” he exclaimed. “I did not mean to kill him, merely to incapacitate him long enough to take his place on the stage, but I ran out of time and I became careless. He was the only thing standing between us and I was not about to let him ruin my plan, no matter the cost.”
“You are delusional if you truly believe he was the only obstacle standing in your way. What did you expect to happen tonight, Erik? You would take Piangi’s place, sing with me in an opera of your own creation in front of a full theatre, and then what? I’d fall into your arms and we’d live happily ever after?” She tore the veil out of her hair in frustration, throwing it at his feet. If he thought that after all the times he had tried to force her hand, had tried to manipulate her into choosing him, she would now willingly become his bride, he was sorely mistaken.
“I cannot deny the truth of that, although it now becomes painfully clear how foolish I was to entertain such hopes.” Although his words seemed to imply that he blamed himself for having such unrealistic expectations, the glare he directed at Christine made it clear that he also faulted her for his disappointment. “I was ready to lay my heart at your feet tonight, Christine, and how did you repay me? By tearing off my mask and revealing my monstrous shame for all of Paris to see! I trusted you!”
His angry shouting turned into a sob of betrayal and despair, and for the briefest of moments, Christine’s anger was overshadowed by compassion for the man in front of her. She was well aware of how badly she must have hurt him by doing what she did, but she had no other options. If she hadn’t done something drastic that would enrage him enough to take action, the gendarmes waiting behind the stage would have closed in on him and captured him, or worse.
Raoul must have thought she was in her dressing room or somewhere else out of earshot as he gave his instructions to shoot Erik when the time came, but she had been too nervous to sit still for long, choosing instead to wander the hallways and eventually finding her way behind the stage, pacing back and forth in the dark as she waited for the inevitable tragedy of the night to unfold. She had heard every word. If she hadn’t acted when she did, Erik might have been dead by now.
“I understand that my actions hurt you too, Erik, truly, I do, but you gave me no choice. Can’t you see it was wrong to pin all your hopes and dreams on me? You’ve told me you love me, and I believe that in your own way you really do, but I cannot be held responsible for your feelings, Erik. I do not owe you anything simply because you love me.”
At the crestfallen, heartbroken look on his face, she almost went to him, almost closed the distance between them and embraced him in a futile attempt to offer him some comfort, a silent apology for having shattered his dreams in a few sentences. Almost. Whatever she had to offer him, it would not be enough now. He would always want what she could not give him.
“I know that I cannot make you love me,” Erik began after a long, heavy silence. “God knows I have tried long enough.” His voice sounded softer now, his bitter and accusatory tone completely gone. “But do you not care for me even a little bit? That could be enough for me. We could start over somewhere new, where no one knows who we are. I could still tutor you and you could still sing.” He was pleading now, with his eyes as well as his words, hoping against all odds that he could still convince her to share her future with him.
“I would expect nothing from you, Christine. I’d do anything to make you happy, I’d give you anything you want. You would only have to ask and it would be yours, and you would not have to do anything in return other than stay by my side. Dammit Christine, I am beyond pride. I’ll fall to my knees and beg if I must. Stay with me. Please.”
And for a moment, Christine was truly tempted to throw caution to the wind and go with him. She did care for him, how could she not? Despite everything, he was still her Angel of Music. She could not deny he had been an integral part of her life since the first moment she met him. Erik had been her sole companion during those terrifying first few years after her father’s passing. Through music he had brought her soul back to life. The connection between them was irrefutable, and she could hardly imagine a world where she would never see him again.
Yet she knew that what he asked of her was impossible. Even if he claimed that he had no expectations from her, she knew that he would never be truly happy until she returned his affections, that he would always continue to hope, and she could not bear to disappoint him. Besides, she already had a fiancé. Raoul. Her childhood sweetheart. Sweet, protective, kind-hearted Raoul, who was probably trying desperately to find a way to save her, even if he had to risk his own life to do so, at this very moment.
Where Erik’s love for her was obsessive and at times almost frightening, being with Raoul would be as easy as breathing. He might not be able to give her a life of music, but she would be safe and cared for. She would not want for anything, and unlike Erik, Raoul was not a wanted man. Choosing a life on the run with Erik over a comfortable and uncomplicated one with Raoul might be romantic, but it would also be foolish.
“I do care for you Erik,” she finally replied, “but I cannot stay.”
He did not try to convince her after that. He merely nodded in resignation, as if he had always known this would be the final outcome.
“Go then,” he said. “You can choose a change of clothes from the wardrobe in your – in the spare room. You would draw too much unwanted attention if you returned dressed the way you are now.”
Christine wondered if that was his true reasoning, or if he simply wanted to keep the wedding dress as a memento to torment himself with.
She obeyed his instructions for the last time, selecting a simple yet elegant dark blue day dress out of the assortment of clothes Erik had kept on hand for her since the first time she had spent the night in his home.
When she re-entered the sitting room to say her final goodbyes, Erik was kneeling on the floor, desperately clutching the veil she had so carelessly discarded earlier, a look of terrible sorrow etched across his distorted face. He brought the fabric to his misshapen nose, trying to inhale the little bit of her perfume that might cling to it.
His eyes flew open and he looked up at her in surprise when he heard her footsteps. He clearly had not expected her to come back.
Erik stood up slowly, wiping invisible dust from his trousers, straightening his jacket, as if after all that had transpired, it was still of the utmost importance that he look presentable to her. Maybe his habit of dressing so nicely was an attempt to compensate for the imperfection of his face, she suddenly realized.
A tentative smile formed on his lips as he watched her, silently waiting for whatever last scrap of kindness she would offer him before stepping out of his life for good. Christine could almost feel her heart breaking as she removed the ring he had thrust on her finger earlier that night, holding it out towards him. The ring was supposed to be a promise, a physical sign that their lives would forever be entwined. It did not feel right to keep it.
Erik’s smile disappeared as he reached for the ring, holding her hand in his for a moment while he looked into her eyes, silently begging her to change her mind. She gave a minute shake of her head before letting go of the ring and withdrawing her hand, a single tear trailing down her cheek.
Christine did not say goodbye, her voice unable to get the word out. She turned around and walked away, forcing herself to set one foot in front of the other until she had reached the door. If she did not leave now, she never would, and she knew she had to.
At the door, she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. One last glance at the man who had taught her voice to soar. He was still watching her, and when he noticed her looking at him he nodded once, as if to say: “It’s alright. Go. I understand.”
Trying to keep her tears at bay, she stepped over the threshold and made her way to the jetty, where the boat lay waiting for her. She knew she was making the right decision by leaving. But then why did it feel as if she was leaving a part of her heart behind?
As Christine steered the boat to the other side and removed herself from his life forever, Erik’s almost inhuman scream of loss and despair echoed across the underground lake. It was a sound that would haunt her for the rest of her days.
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cretonki · 2 years ago
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Tron legacy soundtrack club song
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Tron legacy soundtrack club song update#
Tron legacy soundtrack club song full#
Tron legacy soundtrack club song tv#
Tron legacy soundtrack club song full#
Having worked on the soundtrack with a full symphony orchestra, I can’t wait to hear what the French duo have come up with.Ģ3. Judging by the song titles though it looks like we’re going to be getting a mixture of more traditional Daft Punk songs, like Outlands and Derezzed which have been leaked so far, but also more classical inspired pieces, with tracks like Adagio for Tron, and Nocturne referencing classical forms. sometimes some of us are bright enough to recognize a huge turd without having to step in it first.Titled Outlands, the tracks, as you can see below, is the 9th out of 22 songs set to be on the soundtrack, which so far looks set to be pretty fucking rad.
Tron legacy soundtrack club song tv#
star trek 2009 and terminator both sucked ass for removing thier original music (i would have been happy even with original classic tv show music than the terrible star trek 2009 score).i knew it would suck and was correct, im predicting it for tron 2. after seeing them remove the cool disc throwing and derezing, im borederline on skipping reboots in general. where would indy or jaws or psycho be without thier great soundtracks? im also betting the original cast is in less than 15 minutes of the reboot disguised as a sequel. sequel and reboot making is pretty much a no brainer. I am tired of shit reboot after shit reboot and shit sequel with 20 year old cokeheads aparently not bright enough to recognize music and costume continuity. At least lucas has enough brains not to drop. terminator, bond and and star trek all SUCK after removing original scores. music is 89% of a movie, dropping carlos's original score is one of the things that made tron 1 great. How many 20 year olds does it take to completely screw up a franchise? franchises do poorly when they drop original music scores that made them what they were. It's so easy to ruin a masterpiece by thoughtlessly rehashing it. Now they're going further and messing with its DNA. This musical choice is the first sign that the film project could be going horribly wrong.ĭisney, in characteristic form, used Buena Vista as a cover until they were sure "TRON" wouldn't embarrass them. (Many of the original film's references hark back further, to the mainframe era.) I'm not interested in seeing TRON advance to 128-bit multiprocessors. I suppose it's logical to try to "update" both the sound and look of the world inside the computer to address advances in the computer industry since 1982– but for me "TRON" is about the nostalgic beginnings of 8-bit home computing. Now, to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of both the film and the soundtrack, the duo has shared a. Its vision never pandered to popular audiences. The project delivered 22 tracks for fans to enjoy alongside the Joseph Kosinski-directed film. "TRON" reached iconic status because it was both artistic and entertaining. Also here is the most complete Tron Legacy Soundtrack Ive found. Would thoroughly recommend (1) OVERWERK - Create (2) Daft Punk - TRON Legacy Soundtrack Complete Edition HD 3 - You might find this similar. Wendy Carlos, on the other hand, was an inspired choice given her status as a pioneer and a highly original composer. The soundtrack to Oblivion also had Joe Trapanese as a collaborator, this time with M83 instead of Daft Punk. (Would it seem better if the "2" wasn't pretending to be an "O"?) Not to dis any artists, but there's no more justification for using them than say Tangerine Dream or… Journey. With the Daft Punk news, I'm now pessimistic about the "TR2N" project. What do you think about Daft Punk doing the score for Tron 2? Do you think that they are up to the task? Should they have gone back to Wendy Carlos to score the sequel? The original Tron featured an original electronic score by synth pioneer Wendy Carlos. “We’re always trying to do something that hasn’t been done, or ultimately, that we aren’t doing ourselves yet,” notes Banglater. The musicians, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter split their time between Paris and Los Angeles, where they have have assembled a new recording studio for the TR2N project. The “TR2N” score marks Daft Punk’s first foray into the studio since 2005’s “Human After All.” The film, currently in production, is tentatively scheduled for a 2011 release.
Tron legacy soundtrack club song update#
Billboard reports that Daft Punk has been signed to score the soundtrack for Tron 2 (TR2N):ĭaft Punk, the French electronica duo known for their robot personas, have been tapped by Walt Disney Pictures to compose the score for “TR2N”, an update of the studio’s 1982 science fiction classic “Tron”, Billboard has confirmed.
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defdaily · 4 years ago
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JAY B Interview [HYPEBEAST]
From GOT7 to H1GHR MUSIC’s JAY B
On the 11th of May, it was announced that GOT7’s leader JAY B had joined H1GHR MUSIC. Ever since his time in JYPE, Jay B has been taking on the responsibility of writing lyrics and composing songs for albums, even participating as a producer. On Soundcloud, he has released 5 mixtapes under the name Def., showing his ambition as a solo musician in various instances. That’s why the fact that he did not join a KPOP entertainment company but instead joined H1GHR MUSIC is not a particularly surprising thing. However, it’s no lie that this will bring a huge change to his career as an artist. <HYPEBEAST> met with JAY B and had a talk about the reason he decided to move (to H1GHR MUSIC), his new single ‘Switch It Up’, his future activities as well as his ambition.
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HYPEBEAST: You’re known for being on “team mint chocolate”. You even left comments about it on <HYPEBEAST>’s instagram page.
JAY B: I like the way the flavour is pungent yet wrapped up in chocolate. I don’t really like plain chocolate. I like it when something is added to it, such as chocolate milk or white chocolate, but when I had mint chocolate for the first time, it was really revolutionary. After that, I’ve been enjoying eating it.
HB: It’s still something that sparks a lot of debate. There are also a lot of products released aimed to spark controversy.
JAY B: There’s something I always say. If I am eating it well and I like it, I just hope that you won’t say things like “why would you eat that?” to me. If you’re enjoying your food and then someone next to you says that sort of thing, you’d lose your appetite, right? Just don’t say that kind of thing to someone who’s eating. Let’s love one another!
HB: Your group, GOT7, left JYP Entertainment after 7 years. How did you feel promoting without a company for the past few months?
JAY B: I feel the same now. It’s more fun. Personally, one of the reasons why I decided to leave JYP was because I wanted to take on more challenges. Maybe it’s because of that but the time I spent as a kind of freelancer felt really new. Even though I won’t be able to know everything about what kind of system I’ll be working in, I got to learn about it roughly and gained a more serious attitude regarding work. I also felt a sense of pride and that it was precious.
HB: Out of the ‘challenges’ you mentioned, your photo exhibition was one of them, right? We heard that you like taking pictures.
JAY B: Even this morning, I saw a pigeon spread only one side of its wings. I’ve never seen that before, so I wanted to take a picture of it, but in a short moment it sensed that I was there and flew away. I’m the kind of person who takes a lot of pictures of those little moments. In that way, I got to hold a photo exhibition too. Honestly, I was embarrassed to do the exhibition. I was just going to try to do it personally as a small thing with the pictures I took myself, but JYPE said “let’s do it even better”, and as we exchanged ideas, the scale got a bit larger.
HB: Is there a particular theme that you like when taking pictures?
JAY B: I’m the kind of person who comes up with (themes) as I take the pictures. As I am taking pictures of something, thoughts like “ah, it would be fun to hold exhibitions with this kind of pictures” come to mind. For my first exhibition, I took pictures revolving around the theme of ‘loneliness’, ‘living alone’, and ‘even if you are living alone, you need someone by your side’. It was mainly involving people/figures, but I actually prefer taking pictures of landscapes or larger compositions.
HB: In the past, you’ve said “I think my next album will be a product that includes the loneliness felt in life”. Is it related to your first photo exhibition <ALONE>?
JAY B: There’s no relation between the two. I wanted to work out all the feelings I had after being under a lot of pressure as I lived my life. Putting aside whether the album is good or not, I think it will be an album where I honestly share what I felt when I felt pressured. I don’t know whether or not it will be released, and if it does, I don’t know in what form it will be released in, but for now I’ve just made the album with this theme. It might sound boring, but it contains a lot of my honest thoughts.
HB: We don’t know when or how, but it will probably be released through H1GHR MUSIC now right? After your contract ended with JYP, you probably received offers from various places, why did you choose H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I’m well aware of the fact that I was protected by the fence called JYP. But as I mentioned previously, I left JYP because I wanted to try and experience something on my own. I also had doubts regarding whether I was an artist who could bring in as much profit as the company wanted. I think that changing my image in order to earn a profit is something that I’ve done a lot in the past. After leaving the company, I received offers from multiple places, and some were really good companies too. However, the most important thing was that it had to be a company that I could exchange opinions and create with. I think H1GHR MUSIC matched up with that the best.
HB: As the field of your promotions change, it will probably come with some concerns as well.
JAY B: I’m the kind of person who worries a lot and is cautious. My own concerns aside, I was really worried about whether H1GHR MUSIC’s image would be damaged because I joined. I thought people might say that an idol joining would muddy the waters* (*ruin the label’s image). No matter if there’s a good or bad reaction, H1GHR MUSIC has already accomplished things, and I would be a new addition. On top of that, I’m not someone who is just starting to make music. I’m making a new image based on the one I already had. Even so, just this once, I wanted to make a decision that was for myself. That’s why I was even more cautious with each and every step.
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HB: Is the title of your new single ’Switch It Up’ referring to the changes you are going through?
JAY B: When I came up with the title, I did think that it was possible to give it that sort of meaning. I wanted to express a basic love story while also including the meaning of switching up my life. However, Jay Park hyung gave me some advice, saying that rather than doing that, it might be better for me to naturally blend in what I’ve already been doing. Following that advice, even though the title itself carries the meaning of change, the lyrics are just about love.
HB: How was your first production at H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I had a lot of concerns and was worried. After I made the decision to join H1GHR MUSIC, I told Jay hyung that I wanted to release a song or an album quickly. It just so happened Cha Cha Malone was back in Korea, so we aligned our schedules and produced songs together. Everything happened naturally. Jay hyung said that I shouldn’t go all out from the beginning, and that it’s more important to keep going steadily. I agree with that. I’m satisfied with the result too. I worry a lot so I’m the type to ask around for opinions, but everyone said it was good. But honestly, I’m not sure how the public will react to it. (laughs)
HB: Sokodomo’s feature was really impressive, how did he end up participating in the song?
JAY B: The funny thing is, it really came about naturally too. When I went to the studio, sokodomo was there and he asked if he could stay while we were working on our songs, so we said it was okay. As we worked on songs like that, after I finished up my recording, sokodomo suddenly went into the recording studio. I was wondering “what’s going on?”, but what sokodomo showed us was really good. Turns out, while I was recording, he came up with some ideas and asked if it was okay if he tried it out which I didn’t hear. But what sokodomo came up with was a style that I couldn’t express well. And so right there and then, I cautiously asked if he would be willing to feature in the song, and he agreed without hesitation. That part was so good that I even thought “I can’t be eaten by (overshadowed) sokodomo”. Haha.
HB: In the past, you were a B-boy, and even in GOT7 you received a lot of attention for your dancing. So we were wondering if we would get to see you dance to ’Switch It Up’.
JAY B: You’ll be able to see it through the live clip that will be released at the same time as the single. There are various elements in the live clip. First of all, I tried really hard to make it look cool. I sang live with sokodomo too. I think there’s a lot to see. The dance comes on at the very end. I thought that since I’m a performer, I should dance too. Honestly, at first when I listened to ‘Switch It Up’, I thought it would be kind of hard to dance to it. But even so, I have to dance. Other artists are cool too, but I think Chris Brown is really cool. He dances and sings at the same time really well. Because dance was my beginning, and I gained interest in singing later on and ended up working hard at it, I can’t let go of dance.
HB: Do you have any plans or ideas for the next album you’ll release through H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I think that I have to move quickly. I’ll have to wait and see what I’ll end up with, but for now, I think it’s closer to a chill vibe. ‘Switch It Up’ was chill, but it still had a kind of energy to it. Rather than that, I think it will probably be the kind of music that is suitable to listen to while going for a drive. I want to show music that’s groovier and more sensual as much as possible. But I still don’t know. It’s possible that the company might say “let’s go for pop.” I want to create things together with the company, so I’m open to accommodating their opinions for a couple songs.
HB: You’re also promoting with the name Def. and not Jay B. Why did you come up with the name Def.?
JAY B: Actually, even in the early days of GOT7, I didn’t feel any attachment to the name JB. I felt really strongly that it was a name that someone else came up with. I’m more comfortable with people calling me by my birth name, Jaebeom, too. Of course, I like it now. I wanted to separate Jay B and Def., that’s why they are separated. When I was in JYP, I got permission to release my music on Soundcloud, but I couldn’t release albums separately. So I released all the music that I couldn’t release as JB through Def. For now, I decided I would make music that people could approach more comfortably under the name Jay B, and I would release things that are more to what I want to do through Def. I’m not sure how it will end up in the future though.
HB: Listening to the music under these two names, there is quite a difference. The music you release under the name Def. has more characteristics of the neo soul genre.
JAY B: When I made <1/? Vol. 1>, I liked trap soul, so it contains a lot of that kind of music. After that as well, it mostly is filled with songs that were the style that I liked at the time. If you listen to my mixtape, excluding the intro and outro, there are about 5 songs. While I prepared those songs, I also worked on 15 songs that would be for GOT7 albums at the same time, making about 20 songs at a time. I’d work on GOT7 songs from morning till late night and if I had time, I would then work on my mixtape. That’s why they are songs that I really cherish. People might wonder why I would work so hard, but I thought that as an idol, I have to do my job well so that I can gain autonomy within the company. That’s why I worked hard and pushed myself to my limits.
HB: When will we be able to hear your music as Def.?
JAY B: Firstly, I want to get my name as Jay B out there, and later on I want to use the name Def. again when I can do what I want. Things that are more unusual, alternative, and experimental.
HB: Hearing you talk, we can really feel the love you have for music. You also seem like a realistic person.
JAY B: It’s because I feel that if I stubbornly insist on doing what I want to do and it doesn’t turn out well, I’d get a rough reality check. I’m a cautious person, so if I persist only on what I want and then fail, I’d end up thinking that I just have no aptitude for music, and I thought that is more dangerous. If that happens, I’d feel sorry for the music that I like and I might even think that there was something wrong with the music or genres that I like. People might say that that’s “not real”, but it’s “real” to me. It’s just my way of living.
HB: You’re currently also in the crew ‘ØFFSHORE.’ What kind of crew is it?
JAY B: It’s a place where people who sell songs commercially and people who make their own music gather. It started with the purpose of people with the same interests making fun music together and releasing it. Offshore has the meaning of “shore/coast”. On the shore, there are lots of living things. There are times when the waves crash but also times when it’s calm. Just like my Def. character, I think it’s a place where I can freely include things I’ve never done before. It will carry on in the future too, but we won’t have any eye-catching activities. We’ll just go on calmly.
HB: As you share your stories, we’re getting curious about Jay B as a producer too. Will we be able to hear songs that you produce for other artists someday?
JAY B: When I was in JYP, I’ve sent out songs that the publisher said would not work for GOT7. There were also songs that were selected by other people but could not be used because of my name. Now, I don’t think there will be those sorts of limitations, so I want to try producing for other people too. I don’t have confidence in being responsible for someone or nurturing trainees, though. I’m still busy trying to feed myself. But even so, I’d like to try to produce just one song for someone else. I would have a sort of image about someone, right? An image that they themselves wouldn’t even know. I think the process of trying to bring that out would be fun. Of course, I’m focused on my music now, but it would be nice if I got the chance someday.
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HB: Another GOT7 member, Yugyeom, joined AOMG. Fans can’t help but look forward to the reunion of your unit ‘Jus2’.
JAY B: Since Yugyeom is in AOMG, I think that if we talk to Jay hyung, it’s possible that we will release something as Jus2. Jus2 and JJ Project both include Jay B, but they are also units that are part of GOT7. I think that if we work hard at promoting them too, fans would feel a sense of security. I think that from now on is the time when both I, as well as GOT7, have to really do well.
HB: You mentioned that you wanted to release 1 GOT7 album a year.
JAY B: I don’t know whether it will work out, but we have to try and plan for it. I’ve mentioned multiple times that GOT7 has not disbanded. I believe that I should keep my word. Right now, everyone is actually busy working on their own things. Even so, we want to try and make one song for GOT7 a month, so that we can promote about once a year.
HB: You have a strong image as a great leader and hyung in GOT7. What would you like to show as JAY B in H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I would like to hear people say “ah, I guess they did a good job bringing him in”. I hope that when people listen to ’Switch It Up’, they won’t think that “Jay Park made the wrong choice this time”. I think it would be nice if people thought that I was worth anticipating. Not that they brought in some strange kid. I don’t want to get cursed at. Haha.
HB: Do you have a final goal you want to achieve as an artist?
JAY B: I don’t. I just want to keep on steadily and quietly making music. To me, saying that you want to receive some sort of reward or that you want to become something is quite vague. I just hope that I can gain the drive to keep going on steadily and continue that cycle of creation. That’s all.
Translation by @mindellay x @defdaily
May contain slight inaccuracies.
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AU where Nico dies (don't hate me pls I'm sorry I love Nico and ship the hell out of Solangelo, this is just to allow for some dark AUs) transporting the Athena Parthenos in BoO.
(Sorry it's such a long post) Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, revered praetor and peace-loving daughter of Bellona, loses the ability to share strength. Now, when she uses her power, she saps your energy, draws on your bravery, and poisons your mind with horrific images. Nico's death has allowed suppressed traits to resurface and overwhelm all her progress since San Juan all those years ago. She picks fights. She becomes a dictator in all but name, abolishing the Senate and making War Games a lot more "realistic": weekly funerals become commonplace, words are spoken under breaths, and terror resides in the heart of every New Roman. And so, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano turns her brilliant mind and poisonous power to Gaea's aid. Gleeson Hedge doesn't seem more than a broken satyr at first glance, his smiles never sincere, his voice never loud, his bat never raised. But when he slips off into the wilderness, he does not sit quietly among the trees and reflect. He whispers into the trees' leaves, his twisted words echoing the bitterness that now consumes his being. He has been tricked too many times: Pan, forcing thousands of satyrs to lose their lives in their quest to find him when he was alive all along; Clarisse, who never tried to connect with nature or understand his own ties to the natural world, who teaches his child the game of death while Mellie watches, fading away, unable to fight back; the gods, who, in their promise of protection, conveniently ignored the nature spirits. He is bitterest about Nico's death: about all he could have done, about what the kid should have done. The glint in his eyes scares even the worst monster that Tartarus could send. But it is Gaea he turns his allegiance to. It is Gaea who promises that he will always be good enough for her. And so, Gleeson Hedge turns nature back to its true mother: Gaea. Hazel Levesque is not someone you want as an enemy. Her golden eyes, gold like the masks of the judges of the dead, seem to see everything. Her powers grow stronger, but now she is able to control them. One glance, and she can cause an entire legion to scream and writhe in agony as she manipulates the iron in their blood, twists their shining armour, forces weapons to turn on their handlers. She stops wearing normal, mortal clothes, and now she wears flowing dresses of molten gold and bronze that no spear could pierce nor hand touch. She calls on the remnants of metal in the cave in Resurrection Bay to rise, and rise they do, twisting and weaving together at her command to form a cathedral-like vault with a solid Stygian iron throne. At the front of her temple lies a chasm from which her first creation arises, complete and healed, at last. Alcyoneus clambers out of the pit, back with his mother's life and Hazel's burning desire for destruction. And so, after seventy years, Hazel Levesque joins forces with Gaea of her own free will. Frank Zhang's arrows are no longer aimed at Tartarus's monsters, but at the people he once considered friends. The ruins of the Zhang family mansion become a shrine to Gaea, the ancient walls falling in blissful happiness into the Earth Mother's embrace. Frank returns often with fresh skulls, unfailingly whole - his arrow pierces cleanly through the eye every time. His piece of firewood safe in Gaea's belly, protected where no flame could reach, he is unstoppable. His shapeshifting causes unforseen problems with the allies' plans, it's very hard to plan how to fight a lion when he could turn into a swarm of bees at any moment. He is the ultimate spy, a literal fly on the wall, and for once, he feels needed. He feels worth something. He feels as though he is good enough, something the gods could never give. All the gods ever did for Frank, he realises bitterly, is take. His mother. His grandmother. His self-confidence. His chance for a stable, loving family. Nico. And so, Frank Zhang finds a different kind of family, one that will not let him down, in Gaea. Piper McLean never wanted to be a tragic love story; that was purely for her mother's entertainment. She
cuts her hair short. She kills Gaea's enemies on sight. Her charmspeak forces even her old family, Camp Half-Blood, to turn against each other, brother against brother, sister against sister, until bodies litter the strawberry fields and the Big House crumbles to smouldering ashes. The gods have her no love. Their boundaries mean nothing to her any more. Her love extends to her favourite mother, her boyfriend, the rest of the Seven, Grover, Reyna and Hedge. Beyond that, it is poison. Gaea takes her hands, looks into her eyes, and tells Piper that she is more than the spawn of an unfaithful, air-headed immortal, more than the damsel in distress. She tells Piper that she is who she decides to be. And Piper agrees. Gaea gives her the opportunity to be out of others' shadows. Piper McLean takes the chance and joins with Gaea, her charmspeak almost her most dangerous feature, second only to her unbridled wrath when Nico's death is mentioned.
Jason Grace owes fealty to only one eternal goddess now. He scours the Underworld with Hazel and Frank, relentless like the wolves he was brought up with. He knows no bounds, his destruction barely controllable by even Piper and her charmspeak. He has obliterated entire cities, counties, even an entire nation. He feels no regret, no remorse, no nagging guilt. He seeks out and electrocutes homophobes as his powers grow in complexity, along with his ability to control them. No matter how much they scream, the same two words shoot from Jason's scarred lips like the lightning bolts he commands: for Nico. As the darkness inside him grows, the son of Jupiter advances on Olympus, eyes and hands blazing, to destroy his father, as one of Gaea's allies, as one of Gaea's found children. Jason Grace vows by Nico's soul and Gaea's love to destroy the gods who shamelessly abandoned them.
Percy Jackson has been close to the darkness before. As just one examole, he's controlled poison to choke the goddess of misery at the edge of Chaos. But now, Annabeth's words at the time - some things aren't meant to be controlled - strike differently. Percy doesn't follow rules any more. That brooding, troublemaking face now alludes to his new form: gone is the class clown, here is something more akin to a devil. Like Hazel, he has made hundreds of people and monsters shriek in pain as he controls their blood, contorting their bodies into unnatural forms and snapping necks with a mere snap of his fingers. If Nico's death is mentioned around the pair of them - Hazel and Percy - both turn on the individual, eyes smouldering with the deceitfully cool ashes of the fire of grief, and slowly unleash their wrath. Percy cannot be controlled. He wants revenge. Part of him wishes he had never given his mother the head of Medusa to kill Smelly Gabe; it tore him to pieces when he made the fluid in her head seep out of her eyes. But she wouldn't stop begging him to leave Gaea. She had to go. She was no longer loving him as he knew he deserved. Now, Percy Jackson takes his support from the mother he should have accepted long ago: Gaea.
Annabeth Chase did not accept powers from her new mother, her better mother. She chose to use her mind as her weapon and Gaea respected that. Gaea gave her the resources she needed to wreak havoc on mortals and immortals alike. Now, instead of studying for a stupid internship in a misogynistic, capitalist society, Annabeth unleashes her fury, her grief, her mind on the world. The gods deserve to pay for what happened to Nico. The demigods need to feel her grief. The mortals started this stupid cycle of overwork and inadequate pay. Annabeth is ready to work with the mother that respects her, that loves her, that nurtures her as she deserves. And work she does. Plan after plan is developed, improved, redrafted, mocked up, redeveloped, and finally executed with clinical precision. Her mind becomes what her enemies most fear, even above her reputation: first child of Athena in millennia to reach Arachne, retriever of the Athena Parthenos, survivor of Tartarus. And she laughs, laughs in a maniacal way that makes you want to take a step back as she strides towards you, grey eyes alight with an unnatural glint as you realise that she knows everything about you and she knows how this will end. She will not let herself or her friends die. She refuses to let another situation like Nico's death happen again. So, Annabeth Chase takes Gaea's resources and turns them into a mass genocide, executed with her new mother's blessing.
Grover Underwood leads the nature spirits now. He commands dryads to extend their unstoppable tendrils through the paths that Gaea forms for them, deep in the earth, then sending them exploding through the surface and reclaiming all that was torn from them under the pretence of friendship. His empathy link with Percy allows him some degree of control, both over the son of Poseidon and over naiads. Grover is betrayed and bitterly disappointed in Pan, in the gods, in demigods, in mortals, in Nico. And so, he turns nature back home with Gleeson Hedge. The hauntingly beautiful whistling of his pipes lures demigods, mortals, even gods to their doom. Apollo is the first to fall, trapped by the music of the satyr whose horns now make him seem diabolical as he dances in the flames. Grover Underwood finds his roots in Gaea and his revenge in destruction.
Leo Valdez wants to burn the world to ashes. There's not a moment he's not on fire, his hair smouldering, his skin aglow. At his feet lies Hera, trussed up like a rodeo calf, bound by the power of the guardian Leo knows he deserved as a child. There is no Piper with her charmspeak to free the ex-queen; at least, Piper is by Leo's side as he blasts her with his searing flames. There's a smile on Leo's face that rivals even Annabeth's as he torches cities, razes acres and lights up the sky with plumes of smoke and columns of fire. His reasoning feels etched into his heart: the gods let Nico die. The gods let us down one time too many. And so he lets the flames go. Gaea stands behind him, her hand on his shoulder, proud and respectful. She knows that he secretly enjoyed starting the war with New Rome. He has fire powers; it's only natural, and that Octavian is enough to drive anyone mad. So, Leo Valdez finally makes his peace with Gaea.
Will Solace goes out like a light as the news of his beloved's death is announced. He lies, broken and silent, in Gaea's arms, tears streaming down his face. He stirs only for Nico's name, and his eyes turn slowly to whoever dared say it. He reaches out an arm, eyes turning black, leaching all the colour from the surroundings as his whisper echoes: there is no hope. Behind him stands Gaea, a tear of her own on her earthen cheek. She feels his pain, raw and fresh. But she takes some of it onto herself. Will Solace shares his grief with Gaea now.
And so they stand, eyes alight and expressions dark and triumphant, by the side of the goddess who did not want to let Nico die.
Gaea smiles.
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tigerkirby215 · 3 years ago
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5e Irelia, the Blade Dancer build (League of Legends)
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(Artwork by Jessica “OwleyCat” Oyhenart. Made for Riot Games.)
FINE I’LL MAKE IRELIA GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!
Irelia is my least favorite champion in League. She’s not my most banned (Shaco) nor is she the champion I complain the most about, but she is absolutely the champion that I look at and constantly think “this character actively ruins the game for me.” I’ll admit that Irelia’s role in the Sentinels of Light story was pretty interesting but you’re still not going to make me like Irelia, Riot!
I’m not going to bore everyone with a long-winded rant about my hatred for this character and how what I thought was going to be a nerf actually made her S tier (joy to the fucking world I now actually have to ban her) but I will say this: there are no champions who I won’t make a genuine build for if I take the time to make a proper blog post about them... Except Talon, but that’s because Talon has one of the most boring kits in the entirety of League of Legends.
GOALS
Step. Two. Whirl. Lift! - What? Do you think that a champion with literally unlimited dashes is unfair?
Perfection of form - We’ll also need to weave our blades around us like a dress, slicing at foes and protecting yourself in one fluent motion.
Remember the Placidium! - When in doubt just use more blades.
RACE
Irelia’s a human... but making humans all the time is boring. Irelia has an innate magic and I’d consider being in-tune with Ionia’s spirit a connection to the Fey. So I decided to make her an elf for the sake of this build, more particularly an Aereni High Elf from Eberron for the innate Expertise.
A regular High Elf works too if your DM doesn’t allow Eberron races; the only thing that really changes with the Aereni High Elf is that you get Expertise in a skill. Valenar elves are also cool for the Double Scimitar.
You can also make Irelia a human but there aren’t many feats I want for her except maybe Mobile, but I felt like being an elf was more fun to grab other feats.
As an elf you have +2 to your Dexterity score, Keen Senses for proficiency in the Perception skill (gotta watch those wards!), and the Fey Ancestry of Ionia grants you advantage against charms and immunity to being put to sleep magically. Instead of sleeping you can spend time in a Trance meditating to regain strength. You only need 4 hours in a trance to rest, and are fully aware of your surroundings while doing so.
As an Aereni Elf you get Expertise in one skill of your choice: we’ll be taking Performance because... well you are a dancer. As a High Elf you learn one Cantrip from the Wizard list, and we’ll actually be taking Prestidigitation to aid in our performances. Oh and you’d normally be increasing your Intelligence by 1 but we’ll instead be increasing your Wisdom because... well it fits Irelia more. (No big loss if you increase Intelligence instead though.) And you can learn one language of your choice: pick whatever you think would inspire fear into the heart of Noxians!
ABILITY SCORES
15; CHARISMA - A dancer is meant to be beautiful first and foremost.
14; DEXTERITY - Of course dancing takes nimbleness. "When no one's around, I dance for myself."
13; WISDOM - This is where the +1 from our race is going! Keep in-tune with the natural world and Ionia’s spirit.
12; CONSTITUTION - You are still a top laner with just... way too much sustain. (Feel free to swap this with Wisdom for more HP but less roleplay.)
10; INTELLIGENCE - Nature is an intelligence skill and military tactics are good to learn, but we simply need everything else more.
8; STRENGTH - You swing your blades with the rhythm of the natural order. Which is to say Riot doesn’t like buff ladies.
BACKGROUND
A dancer is a type of Entertainer. You get proficiency in Acrobatics but since you already have expertise in Performance feel free to grab Nature to become more in-tune with the world around you. You also get proficiency with a Disguise Kit and an instrument of your choice: pick whatever you think suits you and make your own Ionian war hero!
You feature By Popular Demand makes you known as both a dancer and a war leader! You can perform in exchange for a place to rest for you and your allies, and people will remember your dance and treat you with respect.
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(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1
What? Did you expect this to just be 20 levels of Swords Bard? Honestly Rogue serves as a better recreation of Irelia’s abilities, at least at early levels. That and I want proficiency in 4 skills, so take Insight, Persuasion, Intimidation, and Slight of Hand proficiency to lead and dance with grace. You also get Expertise in two of those skills: Acrobatics is a must but since we’ve already got proficiency in Performance you may as well grab Persuasion for good relations with Ionia’s people.
You also get Thieves’ Cant to speak in the way only other performers can understand, “performers” in this case being other Rogues. But of course the main skill you get is Sneak Attack, giving you an extra d6 of damage if you have advantage on your attack or an ally is near the enemy you’re attacking.
LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2
I always love when I get to recreate League of Legends dashes by just... letting you use the Dash action a lot. Second level Rogues can make Cunning Actions to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Keep it simple stupid and weave around your foes on the battlefield.
LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3
Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype, and to dance around the battlefield while slicing down foes the Swashbuckler is a great choice to keep your rhythm in check. Your Fancy Footwork will allow you to attack a foe before slipping away without provoking Opportunity Attacks while your Rakish Audacity will allow you to add your Charisma to your Initiative to always be the first on the front line.
Rakish Audacity also lets you Sneak Attack a foe who is alone on the battlefield as long as you don’t have disadvantage and they don’t have an ally within 5 feet, letting you hit them for an extra 2d6 with your blades.
Now may as well be a time to ask: Dual Wielding or single weapon? Since you’re not going to be getting a shield I’d say carrying two blades is worth it for the potential to deal more damage when needed. You can also use your Dual Wielding attack to activate Fancy Footwork more often to evade more enemies. Just be mindful of when Dashing or Dodging would be more useful.
LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4
4th level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement and Dexterity controls most of what we do right now, so a +2 to DEX would be beneficial.
LEVEL 5 - ROGUE 5
Normally I wouldn’t go out of my way to grab level 5 in Rogue just for the sake of Uncanny Dodge, but here’s the thing: it’s literally Irelia’s Defiant Dance! Take less damage from an attack you saw coming before striking back with your 3d6 Sneak Attack.
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(Artwork by Michelle Hoefener. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 6 - BARD 1
Now it’s time for those 20 15 levels in Swords Bard! Multiclassing into Bard gives you proficiency with one musical instrument (pick your fancy) and one skill of your choice: I opted for Arcana because... well you’re fighting with magical floating blades. (Or at least you will be in due time.)
As a Bard you can inspire your allies as a Bonus Action thanks to Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to their Attack Rolls, Ability Checks, or Saving Throws. You have a maximum number of Inspiration die equal to your Charisma modifier, which come back after a Long Rest... for now.
But of course as a Bard you get Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list such as Message to communicate on the frontline, and Vicious Mockery which is sure what I fucking feel playing against an Irelia one-trick smurf account. You can also learn four leveled spells like Faerie Fire to mark your foes, Command to strike fear in the hearts of foes, Heroism to strike vigor in the hearts of allies, and Healing Word; because healing is always good to have.
LEVEL 7 - BARD 2
Second level Bards have dabbled in a little bit of everything: healing, damage, healing, mobility, healing, crowd control, oh and I think Irelia does need some more healing. Regardless Jack of All Trades will let you add half your proficiency bonus to any skill checks you aren’t already proficient in. (This also includes Initiative which is important to mention!)
If you use Tasha’s rules you can also grab Magical Inspiration to make your allies’ spells either heal more or do more damage thanks to your Inspiration. Oh and speaking of spells you can also grab Longstrider for more speed on the battlefield.
Oh and you get Song of Rest, the ability I always mock for scaling poorly. But it will help your allies recover after a hard battle!
LEVEL 8 - BARD 3
Irelia has many magical blades because she went to the College of Swords. Along with Bonus Proficiencies with Medium Armor and Scimitars (neither of which Rogues have for some reason) you can pick up a Fighting Style: I personally opted for Two-Weapon Fighting to get more attacks in but Dueling is also a perfectly fine.
Of course the main appeal of being a Blade Dancer is your Blade Flourish: When you attack on your turn you move 10 feet faster until the end of the turn, and if you hit you can use a Bardic Inspiration on a Blade Flourish:
Defensive Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to your damage and AC.
Slashing Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to your damage, and do that extra damage to any other creature of your choice (that you can see) within 5 feet of you.
Mobile Flourish lets you roll your Bardic Inspiration to add to (guess what) the damage. You can also push the target up to 5 feet away from you, plus a number of feet equal to the number you roll on that die. Immediately afterwards you can use your reaction to move up to your walking speed to an unoccupied space within 5 feet of the target. It’s not quite a Dash, but it’s certainly a Bladesurge!
You can only use one Blade Flourish per turn though. Additionally you get Expertise in two skills like Insight and Nature, to know the spirit of both people and the world around you. And finally you can learn a second level spell like Hold Person for a stun before you do your full combo.
LEVEL 9 - BARD 4
4th level Bards can grab something a little better than Flash; the Fey Teleportation feat! Along with a +1 to your Charisma you learn Sylvan, but most importantly you can cast Misty Step once per Short or Long Rest to get out of a dangerous situation! It unfortunately doesn’t add the spell to your spell list (like Fey Touched from Tasha’s Cauldron) but being able to regain your mobility spell after a Short Rest is extremely useful!
Speaking of spells you learn one more Bard spell, and one more cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand to grab blades from afar, and for your leveled spell take Calm Emotions. It perhaps isn’t the most practical and there are certainly better options, but it’s fitting.
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(Artwork made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 10 - BARD 5
5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration, letting their Bardic Inspiration charges come back after a Short Rest. That’s nice because your Bardic Inspiration (and Blade Flourish die) also increases to a d8.
You can also grab a third level spell like Hypnotic Pattern, to stun an entire army with your blades.
LEVEL 11 - BARD 6
6th level Bards can finally turn their Vampiric Scepter into Blade of the Ruined King, giving them some Attack Speed for an Extra Attack. You can still only use one Blade Flourish per turn, but at least now you can attack twice with your action or up to three times if you make a Two-Weapon Fighting attack.
You can also grab another spell but there’s not much I want from third level, so instead I’ll talk about Countercharm, which is dumb and bad. You spend an action to give yourself and nearby allies advantage against Charms and Fears. Or you could fight through the fear and slay your foes... or cast Heroism or Calm Emotions.
LEVEL 12 - BARD 7
7th level Bards can learn 4th level spells like Dimension Door to teleport into lane or back to base, and Freedom of Movement for some Tenacity.
LEVEL 13 - BARD 8
8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement. We’ve been investing more in Bard so more Charisma would be nice for more Blade Flourishes and better spellcasting.
You can also learn another spell but again: don’t really want anything, so we’re going to wait for...
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(Artwork by Jana Schirmer. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 14 - BARD 9
9th level Bards get to pretend that Song of Rest is a useful ability that scales well, especially when multiclassing. I mean, at least it’s a d8 now!
You also get 5th level spells like Animate Objects. Hey: it only took us 14 levels to get your blades! You can also grab Rary's Telepathic Bond (ty Tasha’s) to keep to team chat with everyone.
LEVEL 15 - BARD 10
10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: take Arcana to further your connection to Ionia, and Slight of Hand for the specific hand movements to manipulate your blades. You also see your Bardic Inspiration increase to a d10, which also means your Blade Flourishes deal a d10 of damage!
Additionally you get Magical Secrets from any class so you can use your unique brand of blade magic. And by far the most blade-like spell you can grab (at this level) is Steel Wind Strike, to dash through multiple foes for a big burst of damage!
Additionally we will be grabbing Blade of the Ruined King (finally) with Spirit Shroud; yes it’s a bit of a low-level spell but it serves as a great damage boost to your melee attacks and also keeps enemies close for you to fight them. And finally you get one more cantrip: Mending will help you keep your outfit in check.
Also if you want you can replace Message with Prestidigitation now that you have Rary’s Telepathic Bond.
LEVEL 16 - BARD 11
11th level Bards get 6th level spells: you can lean into your lessons as a dancer and take Otto's Irresistible Dance to force your foes to keep up with the rhythm or die trying. "Okay, I'm warmed up."
LEVEL 17 - BARD 12
12th level Bards don’t get extra spells, but they do get another Ability Score Improvement: more Charisma means more Bardic Inspiration die (for more Blade Flourishes), better spells, and more initiative so capping that out would give you more bang for your buck overall.
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(Artwork by Art of Maki. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 18 - BARD 13
Hey remember when I said Song of Rest is a useful ability? Well it’s a d10 now!
At least you can learn Forcecage to take Noxians as prisoners of war to be properly judged... As long as they don’t have a filth bucket in their cell.
LEVEL 19 - BARD 14
14th level Swords Bards as masters of their blades, and can perform a Master’s Flourish using a d6 instead of one of their Bardic Inspiration.
You also get two more Magical Secrets, and hey we can finally grab your ult! Take Blade Barrier to cut the armies off with your Vanguard’s Edge. Alternatively if you need to go back to base take Word of Recall to recall back to your fountain. Which is to say: I had no other good spells to give you.
LEVEL 20 - BARD 15
15th level Bards see their Bardic Inspiration die (and their Blade Flourish die) increase to its maximum size of a d12! And you can cap off the build with an 8th level spell, but in all honesty there isn’t many spells I want from 8th level. So use that slot to upcast and take Hold Monster instead to finally be able to stun Wukong.
FINAL BUILD
PROS
Grace bends where strength breaks - You have a variety of ways to deal consistent damage between competency with swords, Blade Flourishes, and powerful spells.
I move to unsung melodies and unbeaten rhythms - +12 to initiative and the ability to move between enemies you attack freely means you’re guaranteed to be on the battlefield fast and able to put yourself in a position to fight with your allies.
Never stop learning; there's always a form you don't know - It was not my intention but turns out Bards and Rogues get a lot of skill proficiencies. +17 in Performance and Persuasion, +16 in Acrobatics and Slight of Hand, +14 in Insight, and +12 in Arcana and Nature. Not to mention Jack of All Trades helping you with all the skills you don’t have proficiency in.
CONS
Each form has a name known only to the wind - So your Dexterity isn’t maxed out, which means you’re a little lacking in both AC and hit chance. Honestly level 5 of Rogue isn’t that good, even if Uncanny Dodge works well as Defiant Dance. 4 / 16 would’ve been better for another ASI.
Stay ready, and there is no need to get ready - Most of your fun spells are accessed at a very high level, with your lower leveled spells dedicated more to utility. You’re a sword fighter first and foremost but seeing as your Charisma is maxed it would be good to use your high Charisma.
We are sharpest where we break! - Low DEX and no Shield (no Shield spell and two-weapon Fighting) means that your AC isn’t the most impressive. That along with 120 health means that a few bad hits can put you in the danger zone. Sure Uncanny Dodge gives you a reliable way to soak up damage but a good surprise hit will quickly put an end to you.
But you don’t need to worry about weaknesses when you’re probably smurfing anyways. Dash, dance, and decapitate foes in a graceful death of a thousand cuts. Keep your style and inspire the commonfolk to take up arms to protect their homeland. Just don’t get too out of line, or Riot might nerf your movement speed by 5.
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(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
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papergirllife · 4 years ago
Text
The Way I Hate You
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Na Jaemin Smut
warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex.
*gif credits to owner.
full masterlist
to request
It was 3am and the deafening noises that came from your new next door neighbor was causing you sleepless nights on end and a pounding headache, resulting newly advils in your nightstand drawer.
You looked at the time displayed on your digital clock, 3:36 A.M. . You won’t take any more of his shit tonight, you had work in a few hours and you aren’t going to waste anymore of your concealer on an ass like him.
You put on your baggy sweater and stomped out of your house, fist banging on his door. Just when your fist was about to come in contact with the door once again, a boy swung open the door. You nearly hit his face with your face if he wasn’t holding onto it.
“If you wanted to touch my face you could’ve just asked, cutie. No need to ruin a masterpiece and scar your soft little hands, no?”
You snatched your hand out of his and looked him in the eyes.
“Turn down your music! It’s going to be 4am soon and I have work in a few hours.”
“But I’m bored, and all alone, only music to keep me occupied. Maybe you can come over and entertain me.”
You took in his appearance, big eyes, perfect nose, and tousled greyish blue hair. He’s a prick, but he’s a darn attractive one. But he’s still a stranger.
“We don’t even know each other. If your looking for a hooker for the night I’ll direct you to that asshole down the hall, he’ll know the direction to the nearest strip club.”
“Feisty, I like it. That can be changed. Nice to meet you, I’m Na Jaemin, you can call me Nana or Jaemin.”
“Y/N.”
He placed his hand out for you to shake, but you just ignored it and went back into your home, banging the door.
The next day you felt like a zombie, your lifeline was literally solely supported by cups and cups of caffeine. You still slapped on a heavy amount of concealer, since you had an important meeting with investors. According to your boss, if your presentation pulled the investors off, you’ll be getting a bigger paycheck and a nice bonus.
When you got home that day, Jaemin wasn’t home yet, it was obvious, from the lack of noise pollution next door. So you took the longest nap you ever had in ages.
You stirred from your slumber when Jaemin began blasting his speakers, you looked at your clock, 8:45 P.M. . Instead of cooking pasta like you had originally planned, you decided to just eat a bowl of ramyun and a bottle of soju to go with it at the nearest convenience store.
When you got back, the noise from Jaemin’s place hasn’t died down. With the alcohol in your system giving you a kick courage, you rang his doorbell many times to disturb him from his ‘music’.
Jaemin opened the door to reveal how disheveled looking he was, you took in his appearance, baggy sweats and hair sticking all over the place, the bags underneath his eyes were much heavier than usual.
“I’m not in the mood, cutie. Just leave please.”
You were taken aback at his bratty attitude towards you, how does he dare tell you to scram off during his bad days, when you were having bad days on no end because of him and his wretched music?!
You had enough of Na Jaemin. Before you could process the things he said in your brain properly, the words were flying out of your mouth
“One bad day and you think you’re the king of this place?! Do you know how many sleepless nights I had because of you and your shitty music blasting at such a volume?! You nearly cost me my job if I haven’t got my shit together with the amount of coffee I drank! I’m getting my liver killed because of you! Do you know how much of a nuisance you are in my life ever since you moved in?! How can you be such a self centered selfish  whiny bitch?!”
With every word you had said, you poked him in the chest once, making him stumble back once or twice back into his unit. When you were looking him in the eye spewing complaints at him, you didn’t notice the way Jaemin clenched his jaw, and the way his fists were held tight, his knuckles turning white.
Jaemin was holding back every fiber in his being not to lash back out at you, even if he did, he knew he was going to regret it in the morning. He knew he was being a dick for blasting his music, but his job was putting pressure on him, and the only way to vent it when he didn’t bother going to the gym was this. Jaemin holds no grudges towards you, but his temper wouldn’t hold up for long if he doesn’t do anything to get himself out of this situation.
“Why can’t you just shut up?!”
“Why don’t you make me, Y/N?”
Maybe it was because of the alcohol, maybe it was because of the stress mounted on your shoulders these past few days, but the irrational part of your brain took reins of you, and you smashed your lips against Jaemin’s, effectively shutting him up.
Well technically it didn’t stop the noise from his speakers, but in your head every little noise faded into nothing. Your body could only register the feeling of Jaemin’s lips against yours. Just as you were about to push him away because of his lack of response, Jaemin kissed you back with much more ferocity, his hands grabbing onto your hips, not letting you go.
You leaned against Jaemin, motioning him to invite you into his house. He picked up on your hints and backed himself into his house. When the both of you were in the house, Jaemin kicked the door shut and spun you around so that your back crashed against the door with a mild thud.
“I hate you Na Jaemin.”
“Are you sure, cutie? The signals your body is sending me tells me otherwise.”
That idiot winked at you. And you were a bigger idiot for liking it.
Jaemin patted at your butt, signalling you to jump.
“Are you sure? I’m heavy.”
“If I fail I’m switching gyms.”
Jaemin successfully caught you when you jumped in his arms, his fingers digging into your upper thighs, sending shocks coursing down your body travelling southwards to your core.
Jaemin took you to his bedroom, the exact route you take to your bed in your own house, a sense of odd familiarity washing over you. You begin sucking hickies onto Jaemin’s empty neck, flowers blooming in your wake.
Jaemin could feel his length growing at your lewd actions, when the both of you got to his room, Jaemin threw you on his bed with a light thud, desperate for any sort of action after you had him riled up just now.
Jaemin quickly discarded his clothes, standing stark naked in front of you, showing you all his glory. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together at the sight of his nudity.
Jaemin reached forward to help you take off your clothes, he was surprised to see the lack of bra when he took off your shirt, his left eyebrow cocked up questioning you.You smiled seductively, playing dumb to his questioning eyes.
“Oops, so forgetful of me.”
“Now you’re just begging to be fucked by me, babe.”
Jaemin tore off your panties last, his fingernails grazing your thighs lightly, he quickly shoved a finger inside of you, prepping you for what’s to come, but to his surprise, you were much wetter than he thought.
“Someone’s dripping for me. Guess I won’t need to finger you open anymore.”
You spread open your legs for him, your hand sliding down your core to move your folds aside to let him see how wet you were, arousal flowing down the bed sheets underneath you.
Jaemin slipped inside you in one thrust, the both of you letting out melodic moans, even though you were wet enough for him to enter, your tightness shocked him, your cavern engulfed him whole, he felt like he was floating. When you opened your eyes as you recovered from the sudden pleasure, you saw Jaemin’s fucked out expression, from just being inside of you. So you decided to play a little game and clench your pussy on his dick. Jaemin curled his toes at your further provocation. It must’ve been a long time since he had gotten laid.
“So that’s how you wanna play, babe?”
Jaemin pulled out and reposition you, ass up face down. He thrust himself back in without any warning, his pace relentless as he plowed you into the bed, you wouldn’t be surprised to see a mark shaped like you after this.
“Fuck, Jaemin!”
“That’s it, babe. Scream my name, let the whole floor know who’s making you feel good.”
Your nails dug into Jaemin’s sheets, back arched, Jaemin’s cock was rather long and it was hitting your sweet spot over and over again, you could feel tears running down your face, his fingers digging into your ass, definitely leaving marks, but you loved the combination of pain and pleasure Jaemin is giving you.
Jaemin found a new addiction, other than the loud music filling up his head’s empty void, he finds your moans as he wrecks you as addicting as nicotine, pumping adrenaline into his veins as he fucks into you.
Jaemin finds your ass an amazing sight to his eyes, a thought crossed his mind. He spanks you as he thrusts into you, once, twice, and had no sign of stopping.
“What the fuck are you doing, Jaemin?!”
Jaemin pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, yanking your head up to speak into your ear.
“Bad girls need to be punished, babe. Don’t act like your sweet little pussy isn’t clenching around me so hard after I started spanking you, you’re just in sweet denial.”
“I hate you, Jaemin!”
“I can change that.”
Jaemin propped his leg up and moved your hips higher, the angle giving him deeper access into your warm cavern. The new angle had you screaming his name as his cock was giving your sweet spot more attention than before with every stroke clouding your head in a pleasure-filled haze.
Jaemin’s hand slipped to your clit, stimulating you further, if it weren’t for his hand keeping your body in place, you would’ve collapsed form the overwhelming pleasure.
Just as you were about to reach your high, Jaemin pulled out.
“What the fuck, Jaemin?!”
“You want to cum? Beg for my dick. Beg for it like the cockslut you are.”
“No!”
“Suit yourself then, I’ll just jack myself off like I always did.”
You were beyond mad, the anger pumping new found adrenaline and energy into you.
You pushed Jaemin down flat on his bed and straddled him, smashing your lips against his as you sink down onto his cock harshly, the sudden pleasure clouding Jaemin from forming any incoherent thoughts on how to fight for dominance, his body submitting to your will.
You bounced on his cock with a feral speed, the anger, stress, and pent-up frustrations leaving your mind every time Jaemin’s cock brushes against your sweet spot.
Jaemin’s hands were loosely hung around your waist, hardly taking in anything other than the pleasure he was receiving, his eyes lolled back into his head, lips agape.
You moved one of your hands secured around his shoulder to his throat, closing off most of his airway, a sly smirk playing on your lips.
“Tell me how you feel, Jaemin. Can’t? Cat caught your tongue? Or are you just too far gone when I’m fucking you dumb?”
You loosened your hold on his neck and smashed your lips against his as you cum after fucking yourself onto his cock one last time, Jaemin followed soon after, his head throwing back from all the immense pleasure he was receiving, a muted but still audible pretty little whine leaving his swollen lips.
You and Jaemin’s hips rocked against each other, riding out both your orgasms. Your body crashed down on his after milking out your high, Jaemin’s hands once again held onto your hips, his head on top of yours, basking in the after sex glow.
“I wanted to take you out on a date before any action, guess we mixed up the stages.”
You sit up from Jaemin’s sudden confession.
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
“You had every right to be annoying to me, I was a jerk and I’m sorry for causing you to lose sleep because of my music. I promise I’ll use headphones next time.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now about that date...
“Tomorrow, lunch, 12 p.m. , Marco’s. Don’t be late.”
“Won’t ever miss it for the world.”
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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago
Note
A platonic one with Vox Machina and the Might Nein where the reader is a dancer/bard/entertainer and the group is a little tight in money or whatever reason so they go off and perform to help out in some way. The groups didn't know so they kind of state at them with jaws dropped
May have gotten slightly carried away, especially on that second scenario, but I had fun with it (might even continue a small story off it, who knows). This should be interesting, I hope this turns out well…… Enjoy 😁
Payed Preformance
Mighty Nein, Vox Machina & Reader (Platonic)
Mighty Nein
Just starting up in the adventuring business has proven to be very tricky, especially when it comes to making and managing money.
"No matter how we try it, there’s just no way we can afford enough rooms for everyone." Beau scratches the back of her head as she recounts your small amount of coin the group had for like the fifteenth time.
"We could always steal some." Nott points out.
"I don’t reckon that to be a good idea, we're tryin' to be in these people’s good graces remember." Fjord counters, rubbing at his temples.
"Just a friendly suggestion." Nott shrugs, clearly still plotting to actually do it. Everyone starts discussing what to do next, you let out a small sigh.
"I have an idea, that doesn’t involve stealing." You speak up, gaining the group’s attention. They stare at you in silence, waiting for you to continue and explain. You look away a second and take a breath. "Look just… just trust me on this."
"Hey, if it’ll help, I say go for it." Beau encourages. You give a nod, stand from your chair and leave the tavern with the group following behind curiously. As you look for a nice open spot you also dig around in your bag until you grasp the item you’re searching for, pulling out a small lute.
"I didn’t know you played!" You hear Jester pipe in, you turn to her and give her a smile and a small laugh.
"I don’t, I’m not the one who’ll be playing it." You get some confused looks, you just roll your eyes playfully and cast Unseen Servant, whispering your command to it whilst handing over the lute. Music begins to play and you start performing some fine acrobatics and contortionist abilities, quickly gaining a crowd as you did. Soon enough people start tossing their spare change, as they do you up the ante of the music and your performance baiting people to want to toss more coin your way just to see what you would do next. The whole time you can see at the corner of your eye the Nein staring in awe, as a grand finale you kick off a wall, do a tumble roll through the air and cast Prestidigitation to make a small fireworks display go off behind you. There’s a pause before the crowd you'd drawn in starts to clap and cheer a few "good show" being yelled here and there, you gather your spoils into your bag and walk over to the group.
"Will this do?" You ask, holding you bag open for them to inspect. Caleb stares into the bag giving a quick head count.
"I believe this’ll do just fine." He comments. There’s a small awkward silence that soon falls onto the group.
"Alright, since no one else wants to ask the question that’s on all our minds, I’ll do it myself." Molly quickly breaks away from the silence and looks to you. "Where did you learn how to do that?" You give a sigh.
"You know, you and Yasha aren’t the only ones who lived with a circus." You say somewhat matter-of-factly.
"Oh now that’s a story I have to hear." He perks up and gets uncomfortably close to your face until you shove him away.
"How about first we actually go through how much coin we *cough* I *cough* earned, then I might tell my story." You exaggerate on the might as a means to say you weren’t going to willingly give away your life story. Before anyone has the chance to say or ask you anything else you turn and make your way back into the tavern.
Vox Machina
"Alright! What did you boneheads do!" The doors to the tavern slam open and a very angry Vex marches her way over to the table giving a hard glare towards Grog and Scanlan. You, Keyleth and Percy all share a look then sit back and take a swig from your drinks ready to watch the show unfold.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about." The gnome tried to play things off smoothly, it didn’t work.
"Really." She raises an unconvinced eyebrow at him. "Well then I’m sure you have a perfectly good explantion for where that gaudy belt you’re wearing came from." You have to hold back a laugh at Scanlan's obvious discomfort. Vax comes and places an arm around his sister's shoulder.
"Hey relax, I’m sure it can’t be that bad." She eyes him a moment.
"Right… that’s a nice new cloak you got there. Where’d that come from?" Vex asks suspiciously. Vax then slowly removes his arm from her shoulder and she lets out a sigh. "Until we can sort this out you’re all banned from taking any money." You and Keyleth both nearly choke on your drinks.
"Come on Vex, don’t throw us into this mess. We’re not the ones who did anything wrong." You try to reason. She turns to you and pinches at the bridge of her nose.
"Look, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, but we barely have enough gold for rooms and a meal." You let the words sink in, contemplating if you should suggest the idea that popped into you head or begrudgingly go along without spending money. When you come to your conclusion you take a deep breath to spike yourself up.
"What if I told you I had a way we could make back… at least a good some of the gold we’d lost." Everyone looks at you curiously.
"Please, by all means." You nod, chug down the rest of your drink and stand up walking around the table.
"Scanlan I’m borrowing you for a moment." You say grabbing the gnome by the collar of his shirt without letting him answer. You head out to find an open space on the road and place him down once you do.
"What was that for?" Scanlan asks, brushing himself off.
"I have a special request, if you don’t mind." He raises an interested eyebrow at you. You whisper to him your request and give an expectant look. "Think you could do that for me?"
"You got it!" He shoots you some finger guns then pulls out his instrument to help fulfil your request. You wave your hand letting the magic shimmer over you, changing your outfit to something more fitting and wait for your cue. Already a curious crowd starts to form around you, and when the music hits your ears you begin to move your body perfectly in time with the notes. As the song plays you match your movements with each note as if your body was a physical interpretation of the song itself. People start to toss gold and silver coin your way, some cheers and whistles being heard amongst the crowd, all the while you do what you can to repress any memories that try to resurface themselves, you were not gonna let the past ruin this for you. When the song is finally done you give a bow to the crowd breathing heavily to catch your breath, they all clap, cheer and some toss even a few extra coin your way. Once you’ve finally regained a normal breathing pattern and the crowd had dispersed you look back to the group, seeing them all jaw dropped.
"You’ve got quite the talent there." Scanlan says astonished. You give a light laugh, waving your hand as you do to change your outfit back to the way it was before.
"Where in blazes did that come from?" Grog asks, confused by your secret talent.
"That was incredible." Percy compliments.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" Vax questions.
"You have to teach me how to dance sometime!" Keyleth quickly jumps in excitedly.
"Whoa, whoa slow down everyone, please." You hold your arms up defensively. "Look, it’s no big deal. Does that help make up some lost change?" You quickly change the subject, directing your attention over to Vex as she finishes collecting the last of the coin people left behind.
"I certainly does. I too am curious though as to where you learned to dance like that?" Vex reiterates her brothers question.
"Eh, it was a long time ago really. I don’t really dwell too much on it though." You wave them off.
"Well now I'd like to know too." Percy raises an eyebrow your way. You let out a sigh.
"Right, and I’m famished after all that. Can’t we just head back into the tavern and enjoy ourselves?" You ask, avoiding the question. Realizing they wouldn’t be getting a straight answer from you they all nod.
"You know what you need to really hammer home a job well done?" Grog gives you a big goofy smile, you knew where this was going but look at him curiously nonetheless. "A nice big mug of ale. Come on then!" He gives you a hardy laugh and a pat on the back, his immense strength making you have to catch yourself from falling to the ground.
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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago
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A Night In
summary: it’s your 1st wedding anniversary, unfortunately the snow has ruined your night. Or so you thought...
a/n: this is my entry for @just-one-ordinary-fangirl ‘s celebration challenge! also, I’m going to combine this with the anon who requested some Ransom Drysdale x wife! reader fluff.
word count: 1485, more or less.
warnings: stripping (but NOT in a sexual way) I swear it will make sense when you read it lmao, but I’m not gonna spoil it. this is still general audience.
*please pardon any mistakes! I try to proofread but I’m human. One who makes mistakes*
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Mesmerizing snowflakes delicately fell from the night sky, the outside lights making them noticeable. Those little flakes gently fluttered to the ground, joining the rest of the snow that had compiled outfront. As of now, your front yard looked like that from a Hallmark movie.
Being snowed in was one thing, but being snowed in on your first wedding anniversary was another.
Of course, both you and your husband, Ransom, were slightly bummed out that your dinner reservations had to be cancelled, but you both still made it work.
Ten minutes ago, Ransom had phoned the restaurant, giving them the notice. After he hung up the phone, he joined you to snuggle on the couch, the yellow aura of the fireplace reflecting on your figures. Now, you were sitting between his legs, leaning against his broad chest, as the man laid his chin on the top of your head. When it had started snowing about an hour ago, you knew there was no way you were going to leave the house. Sadly, you turned back up the stairs and changed out of your dress and into a pair of sweats and a knitted henley top.
Ransom softly laid his hands over your stomach, interlocking them as he held you even closer to his body.
“What should we do, angel?”
For the past few minutes, you both have been silently brainstorming.
“I know there aren’t many things left in the pantry, but I’m sure we could whip up something.”
You looked down at his hands, and placed your own over them. Ransom unlatched his hands to envelope your colder ones.
“Well, I know we have stuff for spaghetti. How does that sound?”
“Sounds lovely, Ran!”
He paused making you nervous. When you turned expecting an upset expression, you were met with a giddy grin.
“That’s… that’s the first time I’ve been called that.”
First, Ransom stood from the couch, extending his hands to help you up. He smiled sweetly at you, and you brought your hand up to his cheek, a comforting touch.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been called that. No one’s ever called me anything nice before in general.”
He bitterly laughed and a part of you felt a bit sad for him.
“No one? Not even your mother?”
“Babe, this is my mother we are talking about. The nicest thing she has called me is ‘asshole,’ which I take with pride.”
“That’s very true. At least this works in my favor. Now I have a nickname for you, honey!”
Once you were up from the couch, Ransom laid a hand on the small of your back, gently leading you into the kitchen.
One of your favorite activities in the whole wide world, was to cook with Ransom. Surprisingly, he was a pretty good cook, and you both worked wonders in the kitchen.
Currently, Ransom was filling a pot with water, as you gathered the many cans of the various forms of tomato. Sauces, pastes, and actual tomato chunks accounted for the six cans that made home on your side of the stovetop. Together, you and Ransom stood shoulder to shoulder working on your own parts of dinner. Since it was simple to boil the pasta, your husband helped out with the sauce by seasoning the beef.
As you waited for the sauce to simmer, you and Ransom softly swayed to the music in the kitchen. The two of you loved to dance. The feeling of being in each others’ arms was something you both adored.
When the timer sounded, you and Ransom pulled away from each other, having been softly lip locked for what felt like ages. You tended to the food while Ransom grabbed the bowls and poured your glasses of wine.
Ever the gentleman, Ransom pulled out your chair, making you giggle at his chivalry. This was a side of Ransom only you were allowed to see.
You both ate dinner in comfortable silence, occasionally talking, but mainly enjoying this time together. It was agreed that this was much better than sitting in some stuffy restaurant. Moments like the ones you had just created were ones you wouldn't have made at the restaurant.
Dinner was amazing and enjoyable. Your plates were soon empty and it was now time for the cleanup. Together, you and Ransom worked hurriedly and managed to clean the dishes in a timely manner. While Ransom cleaned the pot from the stovetop, he quickly came up with an idea for some more entertainment. It was clear the snow wasn’t gonna melt and you both clearly didn’t want to watch tv for the next few hours.
“Hey (y/n), did you keep any of the board games from when we moved?”
You took a moment to think, laying a hand on your hip.
“Actually, yeah! I kept a few, but I think battleship is the only two player game we have.”
A small pout came onto your lips, but it was washed away at Ransom’s happy smile.
“I’m totally down to play. That is if you are up to losing.”
His typical smirk formed and you leaned towards him to kiss it away. Pulling back slightly, you talked against his plush lips.
“You’re on.”
With Ransom finishing up cleaning, you took out Battship, placing his board on his side of the table as you situated your own. Soon, he came back to set his own ships into place. Just as you were about to begin, he spoke up with a tempting offer.
“Let’s spice things up a bit. Shall we?”
With a slightly drunken smirk, you replied, “What did you have in mind?”
“The person to lose this round strips to their undergarments and stands in the snow for a minute.”
You gasped loudly, reaching across the table to shake his hand while being mindful of the Battleship boards. The alcohol coursing in your veins and his made you two all the more competitive.
If you did lose, that would indeed be the longest minute of your life. The dare might’ve been stupid and childish, but you and Ransom fooled around like that for fun in desperate times as such. It was a perfect way to make your 1st anniversary even more memorable. Stupid things like these make for the fun stories to look back on, ten or fifteen years down the road.
“D3?”
“Nope.”
“A8?”
“Ugh.”
“E5?”
“Ah shit.”
After a shed load of curses, laughter, and a few glasses of wine, the game came to an end and your fates were sealed.
Successfully, you had managed to sink all of your husband’s ships. A prideful smile on your face as the man defeatedly sighed, standing on wobbly legs to give you a hand shake in a sportsmanship manner.
As Ransom stood up, he hurriedly slipped off his clothes starting with the t-shirt he was wearing. The man’s muscular arms stretched above his torso and you still couldn’t believe you managed to catch this man. Believe it or not, but you actually married him because he was such a charmer, not for his looks. They were just a bonus.
Before you knew it, Ransom stood before you in his boxers and shoes, making you giggle. He shot you a sarcastic smile, handing you his tan trench coat for your own use.
Opening the door, you both were immediately met with the rush of cold wind. It made you shiver and you were in the proper attire, it only made you wonder how Ransom felt.
You held your cell phone in hand, timer ticking away as Ransom stood in the never-ending, vast whiteness of the snow. His arms were tucked around his broad chest and his legs were crossed, trying to retain his warmth. You felt a tad bit bad, but then again it was a dare and neither of you would back down from one. Anyway, it was his idea in the first place.
So maybe you both were a *bit* competitive…
Ding!
“Ran! Come in!”
You waved him over from the door. Immediately he ran faster than a child running from their shadow. In a flash he was in the house, standing by the fireplace shivering.
To be fair, you decided to join in. As his back was turned, you stripped to your own undergarments, leaving on his coat to warm yourself. Ransom’s ice cold skin came into contact with your own making you hiss. Surprised by your touch, the man turned around enveloping you into his arms, trying to feel your warmth.
“I felt bad for you, even though it was your idea!”
“Damn straight! You are such a meanie to me, your precious, darling, innocent husband.”
Playfully you slapped his chest, leaning back into his embrace. The two of you stood in front of the fire, until warmed up, then going to pick up your discarded clothes and returning to snuggle on the couch.
There was no better way to end the night than with a sweet kiss.
“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Drysdale.”
“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Drysdale.”
if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for sticking with the crazy plot. I know it was a little... risqué. Then again, it’s a Ransom fic. Anything is possible.
Taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @calirindo
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shewillreadyou · 4 years ago
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Me before you: Chapter 3: Excuse me miss
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A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series. Enjoy!
Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry
Warnings: Language, adult content, mild sexual innuendo. 
Word Count: 3468
Catch up: Haven’t met you Yet  For Real
Prompts: None 
Pairings: Drake & Riley
Song inspiration: Luther Vandross Take you out & Wait for Love
Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.
The hot water cascaded down his sculpted body. He groaned as he ran his hands through his luscious chocolate locks. He lathered his shoulders as thoughts of her ran through his mind. He was captivated by her. She seemed to consume his every waking moment. Liam had crossed the line yet again. Every time it seemed his transgressions got more and more out of hand. He refused to allow his friend’s actions to ruin his final couple of days in the states. 
Bastien had taken over the King’s detail while they were in Waxahachie for Savannah’s wedding. For the next 48 hours, Liam was not his charge, he was his friend. His thoughts went back to her. She represented hope, possibility, promise. He had no idea what was to come, but he knew that it would be an exciting adventure if she was at his side.  
As he pulled his white henley tee shirt over his head, his mind went back to the conversation he had at the reception with his cousin Tyler, who was a cyber-security analyst with the Department of Homeland security. Drake explained to Tyler that he would no longer be sitting with him and the rest of the bridal party because the girl who he had been telling Tyler about who works in advertising, who he met in New York was there, and he intended to spend as much time with her as he could. She was something special. She could be the one. “So you invited her to Sav’s wedding?” he inquired. 
“No, actually she is the friend of Sav’s college roommate, Mackenzie, and came as her plus one. I had no idea she would be here.”
 “Sounds like fate.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that of all the places in the world this one person could be, she is here at your sister’s wedding... in Waxahachie, TX. If this girl is the one, you’re screwed. You might as well spruce up your resume. She’s a career woman. She is not going to move to Cordonia for you, and you suck at long-distance relationships. I can probably get you in at my job. My guy Rob in HR owes me a favor.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get the courage to ask her out,” he told Tyler.
The truth was, he could easily see a future with Riley. She’s beautiful, honest, smart, quick-witted, and kind. His cousin’s words bounced around in his head as he pulled on his favorite distressed jeans giving himself a quick once over in the full-length mirror in the room his Mom had decorated for him at the ranch after she returned to the states when his dad passed.
He opened his laptop and took a look around the room. The Walker Ranch had been in his father’s family for several generations being passed down to the eldest male child, like each generation before. Drake stayed in Cordonia after his father died and was handsomely compensated by the crown. His college education was covered, and he and his sister received a stipend each month. Drake was always taught to do a lot with little and to save the rest. For years he lived at the palace and saved every penny. Being friends with Liam, he learned how to invest wisely and he did pretty well in the stock market. His newest pastime had been real estate investment. He had been buying foreclosed homes in and around Dallas and having his Mom’s brothers and his cousins fix them up before selling them for a generous profit. 
He was curious, he was now the rightful owner of the Walker Ranch. It had struggled in the past, but because of his business plans and wise investment, the family business was as strong as it had ever been and his mom was nearing retirement age. What if he and Riley did end up together? He knew the plan was for his cousin Miranda to replace his mom when she was ready, while he retained ownership, but where would that leave him? He pulled up the DHS website and clicked on the careers tab. He was reading a description of a position that he believed he would qualify for, Intelligence Analyst.  
Just then Liam plowed through his door without warning. 
“Li! What the fuck man?” he shouted as he closed his laptop abruptly. 
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“My apologies, I hope I'm not interrupting.  I just wanted to apologize if I offended you. You were right, any woman can be a lot. Carsyn is not speaking to me, she thinks I'm interested in Riley.”
“You are interested in Riley. She's just not interested in you and it's killing you. Let me ask you something, why is it so hard for you to grasp that a smart beautiful woman would be interested in me over you?”
“It’s just.. It’s not that. I'm not accustomed to rejection. It intensifies my want for her.”
“ I hate to cut our conversation short but I have to head out. I’ve got a few stops to make before I pick up Riley.”
“Then I shall take my leave. Enjoy! Smart man, planning a date when it’s going to storm. I’m sure you won’t have a problem closing tonight,” he said as he left the room.
The evening came and Drake drove along the winding Country Road towards the city. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Stapleton’s, “Starting Over.”
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Then he switched from Prime country to the Heart and Soul station on his XM Radio. If he was going to have her in his life it meant embracing all aspects of it. He knew that music was a big thing for her and although she would listen to a little bit of everything she loved R&B and Jazz.  A song by Luther Vandross came on and to his surprise, it was not very different from the country music he listened to all the time. The chorus was catchy and very fitting. 
“Excuse me Miss, what's your name? Where are you from, and can I come? And possibly, can I take you out tonight?”
He found himself humming the tune as he stepped into the local Nursery to pick up a houseplant to go along with the Pinot Grigio he bought as a gift for Riley.  He decided on a Prayer Plant. 
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It was relatively low maintenance and he thought it would be entertaining to watch it curl up in darkness. He didn't want to do the same flowers and candy that everyone does. He wanted to take her something that she would keep for a while, and possibly would make her think of him when she saw it.  As much as he didn't want to admit it the thought of her dating someone else while he was back in Cordonia was driving him insane. 
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He was nervous and he couldn't figure out why. They were just going to hear some live music.  But he wanted to impress her so badly. He knew that it was more likely that he would end up putting his foot in his mouth but with her, for some reason, it did not matter. When he pulled up in front of her place he put on ChapStick, and reached into his glove box, sprayed on some Chrome, and checked his breath before quickly gathering the gifts for her and heading toward the door. He tucked the house plant under his arm as he smoothed over his clothes as the elevator took him to her floor.  A small lump formed in his throat as he approached her door. 
She opened the door and his breath caught in his throat as he took in her appearance. She was dressed in a denim outfit with matching stiletto boots and oddly enough, the denim matched his jeans. It would almost appear planned. He was secretly thrilled. She smiled at him and he was sure he forgot his own name for a few seconds. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
“Hey Drake, you smell delicious.”
 “Hey. Thanks. These are for you.”
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“Aww, you brought me a houseplant and wine? I’m not worthy, but I love it. Thank you. Come in! I promise I’m almost ready.”
She sat the plant on the counter and placed the wine in her wine fridge. 
“You look greeeeat,” she squealed. 
“Thanks. So do you.”
“So how’d you know what kind of wine I like?” she asked as she finished her eye makeup in the mirror. 
“Observant, I guess. I saw a bottle in the trash when I was here yesterday.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you ready?”
He stood moving to open the door for her. “After you.” They made it downstairs as a couple of her neighbors made it home from what he only assumed was church. He couldn’t figure out if the staring was due to her outfit or if it was because she was with him. He looked at her in awe as she strutted with confidence to his car. 
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He opened the door for her and she smiled before thanking him. 
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She was rattling on and on about the artist performing in the festival and he was secretly praying she wouldn’t ask him a question that required an intelligent answer. She kept touching his biceps and his hand. Her hands were so soft and he was sooo turned on. He hoped that she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants and think that he was a creep. He wondered if she kept touching him because she was nervous too?
“Um, Ri? You good?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You are extremely chatty and you keep touching me.”
“I’m excited. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself, but the way this henley hugs your arms,” she wiggled her eyebrows. 
He let out a low chuckle as he quickly glanced at her for the seventh time.
“Are you ok?” 
“Yeah, never better. Why?” 
“You keep looking at me.”
He grinned keeping his eyes on the road. They were nearing the venue when she glanced at his pants. He immediately assumed that she spotted his retreating erection. 
“What?”
“We’re matching you know. People are going to think we did this purposely.”
“Do you care what others think?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good because we’re here.”
They parked and he asked her to stay put for a moment. He got out of the truck and grabbed a blanket and wicker picnic basket. He walked around the truck and opened the door for her and she blushed furiously as she stepped out.
They made their way to a free spot among the crowd. Riley noticed a few glares from both men and women, who obviously had an issue with she and Drake being there together. Then she smiled as one woman gave her a smile, wink and thumbs up as she stood to the side watching while Drake spread the blanket and invited Riley to sit. She knew that some people would have opinions of them being an interracial couple, but Drake didn’t seem bothered. In fact, she thought it showed how courageous he was. When another woman mouthed, “That’s a good look!”
She bit the inside of her cheek trying not to smile. The truth was she didn’t need any validation. She knew Drake was a catch. The fact that he was easy on the eyes was a bonus.  
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“What’s in the basket?”
“Uh, a little something my mom helped me with.”
He opened the basket and pulled out wine glasses, a bottle of her favorite Pinot Grigio, cheese, cashews, summer sausage, deli turkey, sliced cucumbers, grapes, strawberries, whipped cream and 2 brownies. The opening act took the stage and Drake pulled Riley close. 
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“I am,” she said coyly as she settled between his legs.
They cuddled for a bit before eating, until one of the performers played a rendition of The Gap Band’s, “Outstanding.” She jumped up and pulled Drake with her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and swayed back and forth with Riley. She felt so comfortable in his arms, he actually had rhythm. There went another stereotype out the window, it just felt right. 
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After several acts had gone on and several glasses of wine later Riley settled in his lap as a performer started to play a slower song. “I love Luther,” Riley squealed as she began to sing along.
Knowing love the way I do
I can say for certain that it's true
There's a chance for me and you.
I surely feel like the time is near
The picture in my mind is very clear
I think love has brought us here
I remember not too long ago
I was just a lonely person
With a lonely heart, yeah
And I was hoping there could one day be,
Be a chance
For me to get the love
That I'd been missing
Sometimes love takes a long time
Wait for love
And you're gonna get the chance to love
Wait for love, wait for love oh, my
When you take the chance on love you'll see
It's not a waste of time if you truly believe
The impossible can be..
So hold on tight if you think you're right
Cause nothing hurts as bad as when you see
You gave up too easily
Now I remember spending all my time
On a dream that kept me wishing that you could be mine, yeah
And I was hoping there could one day be, be a chance, whoa
I never stopped believing there could one day be, be a chance
For me to get the love that I'd been missing
Sometimes love takes a long time
Wait for love, and you're going to get your
Chance to love
Wait for love, wait for love
And you'll get the love that you've been missing
Sometimes love takes a long time
But wait for love
And you're going to get your chance to love.
Drake couldn’t help but hang on to her every word. He wondered if she was trying to send him a message through the lyrics. She had a voice like an angel and when the song ended he was breathless. 
“Ms. Riley sings too?”
She giggled as she rested her head on Drake's shoulder, her back to his strong chest. He fed her  grapes then strawberries with whipped cream soliciting jealous glances from some nearby onlookers. She made sure to let her lips and tongue graze his fingers.  For a few blissful moments, they both silently enjoyed the closeness.
“You know, this is pretty cool,” he whispered in her ear.
She smiled as his breath tickled her ear. Feeling the effects of the wine, she paused for a few moments before she responded.
“What’s that?”
“This. Us. The festival. It all just feels right.”
She wordlessly looked up at him. She wondered if she could will him to kiss her with her “come get it eyes.”  Suddenly, a torrential downpour covered the venue, leaving Drake and Riley scrambling to gather the blanket and basket before sprinting to his Jeep. Before they could get there he stopped snaking his arm around her pulling her close. 
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This was it, he was going to do it, it was now or never. If she was the onehe wanted to look back at their first date and tell a romantic tale of their first kiss in the rain. Now was the time. He leaned in and when she opened her eyes her lips found his instantly. It was everything she expected and more. It was hungry and passionate and lustful and it made her lady parts twitch. When he pulled away he watched her for signs of regret, but her eyes said she wanted more. 
“Hurry, get in,” Drake urged her as he took the time to throw the basket and blanket in the back.
They were both soaked. She laughed hysterically when he finally got inside. 
“This entertains you, does it?”
She nodded as she continued laughing, her eyes were clenched tightly. 
He went back in taking her lips again as it continued to storm all around them. Her hands roamed his body and her eyes went wide when she made contact with the bulge in his pants. Another stereotype out the window…Drake cupped the back of her dripping head with his left hand deepening the kiss while his right hand explored the soft skin of her thigh as a soft moan escaped her. Suddenly his phone rang, “Mama’s Song” by Carrie Underwood blasted from his pocket startling Riley. Drake huffed and looked at her with apologetic eyes before answering.
“Mom? What’s up?”
“I’m so sorry for interrupting your date Drizzy.”
Riley smiled.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“The power is out and the generator didn’t kick in. I gave Larry the weekend off..”
“I’ll be there as soon as I get Riley home safely. Sit tight.”
“Thanks Driz. How’d it go? Did you kiss her?”
“Mom! She can hear you.”
“Hi, Mrs.Walker.” Riley chimed in.
“Hi, sweetheart. Did he kiss you?”
Riley laughed again. 
“Bye Mom!”
Drake ended the call and turned to Riley, cheeks flushed red.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“For the way, tonight is ending. For my Mom.” 
“Nothing could ruin today. Not even your Mom Drizzy,” she laughed again.
‘Geez, Ri that was below the belt.”
His comment made her think about his bulge and she began to blush.
“Are you blushing?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“Oh, it’s too embarrassing to share.”
“Now you know I won’t stop until you tell me.”
When they pull into her neighborhood the entire area is pitch black. Her building was also dark. 
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“Good thing I have candles.”
“Or you could go back to the ranch with me,” he said shyly.
“Really? I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“It’s just Mom and I. Liam and Carsyn should be out for the evening. Besides, I promised you dinner and it’s Sunday, I bet my mom cooked.”
“I can’t meet your Mom looking like this. I’ll be ok.”
“Riley, I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”
“If you want to spend more time with me just say that.”
“Fine, I want to spend more time with you and I’m not leaving you alone in the dark. My Mom would kill me. Pleaaase! I can get you one of Sav’s outfits. I promise it will be an adventure.”
“Okay, I’ll go. But only because you’re so cute when you beg.”
He bit his lip. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Drake Arrington Walker!” she warned.
“Too much?” He smiled.
When they arrived at the ranch, Drake showed Riley to his room and gave her towels and a change of clothes while he went to help with the generator. She quickly showered, pulled her hair up into a messy bun and moisturized with his Nivea lotion that she found on the counter she walked back into his bedroom pulling on the leggings she borrowed. She was still bare from the waist up when the door opened. Her back was turned when she looked over her shoulder to reprimand him.
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“Drake!” 
“Riley, it’s me, Liam.”
Riley screamed as she scrambled to cover herself.
“Get out!”
“My mistake. I thought Drake was in here. But this, you are much better.”
“Get. Out.”
“Come on, what’s a little fun between friends?” he asked as he closed the door.
Before she could answer Drake barreled into the room, his fist connected with Liam’s jaw before he tackled him. 
“Have fun with me you bastard, I told you to leave her the fuck alone,” he yelled as Bastien pulled Drake off of Liam. Riley watched the entire scene in horror from the corner.
“Get the fuck out Li!��� 
After Bastien escorted Liam back to the guest house, Drake checked on Riley.
“Are you hurt? He didn’t touch you did he?” 
“No, I’m more embarrassed than anything. He walked in without knocking while I was changing.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about him.”
“What in tarnation is all that racket back here?” Bianca asked as she turned the corner.   
“Just Li being a creep. Everything is fine Mom.”
Riley stood when Bianca entered the room. 
“Riley, this is my Mom, Bianca. Mom, this is my Riley.” 
His eyes went wide as soon as the words left his mouth. He grimaced as Riley extended her hand to his Mom. Bianca pulled Riley into her embrace instead. 
“It’s nice to meet the girl who makes Driz nervous.”
“Mom!”
Riley laughed.
Come on darling, I know y’all were supposed to get dinner. It’s Sunday so I cooked some pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots, and green beans and for dessert, banana pudding funnel cakes.
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“Oh my God, Mrs. Walker, that sounds amazing. Drake, you were holding out on me.”
“Not, really. Maybe I wanted to cook for you first.”
@txemrn @pixie88 @secretaryunpaid@khoicesbyk @blackkingliamstan @mom2000aggie @shannonwrote @hopelessromanticmonie @chemist-ana @rideordiechronicles @lucy-268 @dcbbw @darley1101 @maurine07 @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @kingliam2019 @schnitzelbutterfingers @lem-20 @choicesficwriterscreations @no-one-u-know @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @thefrenchiemama​ @somersetmummy​
TRR: @twinkleallnight  @bebepac @mainstreetreader @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @lem-20 @texaskitten30
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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago
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Black on black | Lucas Wong
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▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers
Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression
A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally. 
Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers​
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Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?
Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.
The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.  
You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.
“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.
“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.
He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.
You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.
“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.
“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.
“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.
He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.
“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.
“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.
He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.
“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.
“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”
You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.
“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you’re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.
“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.
For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.
‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.
It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.
He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.
“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.
He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.
Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?
His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.
“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.
You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.
Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.
“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.
“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”
It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.
Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.  
Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.
“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.
Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.
It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.
He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.
He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.
He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.
“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.
“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.  
Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”
He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.
Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“
“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.
“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.
“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.
When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”
“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”
“I don’t love you”
“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.
He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.
After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.
Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.
He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.
That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.
But he wasn’t family.
“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.
“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”
He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?  
“You said you don’t love me”
“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”
“Why can't you leave me alone?”
He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.  
“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”
For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.
“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.
“I love you”
He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.
He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”
Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.
“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”  
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chimchimsauce · 4 years ago
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XS (VII - Brick)
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“Give me just a little bit MORE”
Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.
So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.
And Taehyung gets everything he wants.
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven 
Taehyung rides with YN to the reception hall, Jungkook now sitting up front next to the driver. YN stares out of the window, pretending that she cannot see Taehyung's gaze in the glass's reflection.
She wishes the weather would reflect her mood. The day is bright and sunny, not a storm cloud in sight. The people they drive past look are smiling, laughing without a care as they go about their everyday lives, smiling and being happy. What YN wouldn't do for the chance at that simple life again.
Of course, the drive to the reception is not long at all. Taehyung slides out of the vehicle, taking quick strides to go around the back of the car and open YN's door for her. He offers her his hand and she takes it, uttering a small "Thank you." He does not let her go as they waltz into the reception hall, a beautiful old building with exposed brick and lots of pretty greenery. It's someplace YN would have dreamed about visiting, a venue she would have picked herself.
Her new husband releases her once they're safely inside in one of the small back rooms the venue has.
"You've been doing so well," Taehyung says, his hand heavy on her bare shoulder, "I am so proud of you, darling."
"Thank you," YN says again robotically.
Taehyung hums contentedly, his long fingers tapping down her sides before landing on the zipper that closes her dress. YN freezes.
Is he going to make a move now? With people on their way here as they speak?
"Taehyung," YN breathes out.
He mobster quite likes the sound of his name coming from her throat. He'll be sure to wrangle it out of her a thousand times before the night is over.
"Yes, darling," Taehyung answers, pulling the zipper down.
"Are you . . . we're not . . ." YN can't form full sentences, petrified.
Taehyung places a kiss on his wife's neck, loving the way she trembles.
"So eager," he whispers, lips brushing against her skin, "Later, darling. We go have guests to entertain."
A knock on the door shatters the intensity in the room. The relief YN feels is immense.
"Yes?" Taehyung asks, his annoyance obvious.
He hadn't been planning on taking YN here, but she placed the thought in his head and now his head is filled with ideas of pinning her against the wall, the brick digging into her back and leaving bloody scrapes. It sounds like such a wonderful experience, but now someone has shattered it.
The door swings open and in waltzes Yoonji, still dressed in her usual uniform. Her face is blank, taking in the scene with no interest.
"You wanted me to prepare YN for the reception," she says breezily, addressing Taehyung only and pretending that YN isn't even there.
"Right," Taehyung says, running his hands through his hair.
YN can't help but look at his golden wedding ring.
"Make sure Miss Kim looks beautiful," Taehyung says, moving to leave, "Even though it's impossible for her not to."
YN has never wished to be unattractive until this moment. If she was ugly, this wouldn't be happening. But then again, if Taehyung hadn't been interested in her, he would have killed her and her parents on the spot.
When the door shuts, YN is alone with Yoonji. She smiles at the other women but Yoonji doesn't return it, silently moving about the room. In the corner, there is a clothing rack with a garment bag hanging on it. Yoonji unzips it and pulls out a floofy white dress, one that should stop around YN's knees. She finishes unzipping YN's wedding dress, ridding her of it. YN is glad; That thing weighs like forty pounds.
YN stands there in her lingerie, Yoonji's eyes raking up and down her figure before she turns away, muttering something under her breath. YN peeks down at herself. Is something wrong with her body?
"Is everything alright?" YN asks Yoonji, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Just fine," Yoonji says curtly, bending down to allow YN to step into the new dress.
Yoonji jerks the fabric up too quickly and YN trips, almost falling to the ground.
"Hey!" she shouts.
Yoonji ignores her, pulling the princess sleeves over YN's shoulders and zipping her up. Se guides the bride over to the small vanity, unboxing the awaiting makeup kit. Yoonji quickly touches up YN's makeup, ridding YN of the evidence of her first kiss with Taehyung. YN is happy to have her smudged lipstick wiped away and replaced. If only she could do it with the skin that monster touched.
Yoonji rids YN of her veil and weaves flowers and gold into her hair, finishing her work. It took her just over twenty minutes to complete before another knock sounds on the door. It's Taehyung. He barges in without waiting for an answer.
"Is she ready yet?"
"Yes, sir," Yoonji says, stepping out of the way and disappearing down the hallway.
Taehyung extends his hands to hers, raising her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Disgust washes over YN but she ignores it, knowing better than to pull away from him.
"I have some very important people I want you to meet, darling," he says to her as they walk into the main room.
People mingle amongst themselves, looking up when the new Mr. and Mrs. Kim enter the room. They're swarmed almost immediately, random people coming up to them to wish them well and get Taehyung's attention. YN is reminded of just how powerful the man she was forced to marry is by the way people are eager to get into his good graces.
YN's face hurts from all the smiling she has to do, greeting people she knows could kill her in a matter of seconds. It pains her that she sticks so close to Taehyung. Better the monster you know that the one you don't.
Every so often, YN will allow her gaze to wander, looking over those people who have yet to congratulate them. In the very corner, YN spots her own parents, locking eyes with her mother. Her mom is doing her best to not look terrified, but fear rolls off of her in waves. YN wants nothing more than to run over there and feel her loving embrace, pulling her close and breathing in the scent that has comforted her ever since she was small.
Her parents may not have had much, but they were abundant in love, making sure YN always felt safe and happy in her home. The memories of her childhood suddenly feel eons away, almost as if she had never lived them at all. Was it even her who was comforted after a hard day at school? Was it even her who crawled into her parents' bed when thunder struck? YN's mother sends her a shaky smile. YN has never seen her mother look so weak.
"Why don't we go say 'Hi', darling?" Taehyung asks her suddenly, whisking her away from the crowd of gangsters before she can even protest.
YN doesn't trust Taehyung as far as she can throw him. The less often he's around her parents, the better.
"Hello, Mother," Taehyung says brightly to YN's mom, much too happy for their circumstances, "Doesn't YN look beautiful?"
"She does," her mother says, voice barely above a whisper.
She reaches for YN but Taehyung pulls her away, his grasp too tight on her waist.
"Excuse me for being a little . . . possessive . . ." Taehyung says, "I don't want anyone to accidentally ruin my beautiful bride's dress. Well, except for me."
He laughs wholeheartedly and YN and her mother are forced to join in, both of them hiding their disgust.
YN's father appears by his wife's side, a flute of champagne in his hands. He's squeezing the glass so tightly YN is worried that it'll shatter.
"You -" YN's father begins, only to be cut off by YN in a panic.
"Daddy -" she says, aware of Taehyung's heated stare, "Why don't you take Mama and go dancing? I know you love to dance."
YN chuckles awkwardly at her lie, relieved when her father nods wordlessly and sweeps his wife away to the dance floor.
"It's about time to have our first dance," Taehyung remarks, whirling YN into the center of the room.
As if someone had been waiting for this moment, a spotlight beams down on them and music begins to play. All eyes are on them. YN has never even attempted to learn ballroom dancing but she's too afraid to say something now.
She follows Taehyung's footsteps as best she can, studying his feet and careful to not step on him.
"Look at me," he commands and she does, gasping a bit when she sees how intensely he's staring her down, "You are so beautiful . . . so sweet. And you're all mine."
Taehyung spins YN and she falls into him, her hands splayed out on his chest.
"Say it," Taehyung demands, wrapping his arms around her waist and turning around himself.
YN is sure this isn't the proper form but all she can focus on is the feel of him under his thin shirt, lean and strong. In some ways, Taehyung being a handsome man feels like a punishment within itself. But she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. The Devil was the most handsome angel of all.
"Say what?" YN asks as he dips her low to the ground, his large hand on her thigh.
Her cheeks flush red when he toys with the little lace garter she was forced to wear.
"Say that you're mine."
"I'm yours," YN says.
She has never hated herself so much.
"Good girl," he whispers in her ear, biting her once more.
Something tells her that he gets his kicks from causing pain.
The music ends with a flourish, Taehyung bowing to YN and kissing her on her cut up palms.
For the rest of the evening, Taehyung allows YN to roam about while he speaks business with whoever he needs to speak business with. Her parents have disappeared and YN prays it's because they were asked to leave since Taaehyung had gotten his fill of rubbing it into their faces.
Every entry is guarded by big men with even bigger guns, so any chance of escape (or even a moment alone) is thwarted. With nothing other to do and a growing fear of what will come after, YN turns to the seemingly endless supply of alcohol. She has never been a big drinker but right now she's chasing a blackout, wanting to remember as little of this day as possible.
"Maybe you should slow down," a voice says.
YN turns and sees a vaguely familiar man.
"Who are you?" she asks him.
So far, no one has been brave enough to approach her, no doubt afraid of gaining Taehyung's wrath. This man, however, seems relaxed, completely at ease.
"I'm Jimin," he says, "We've met a few times before, but haven't been formally introduced. I'm Taehyung's - and now yours - driver."
"Ooooh," YN says, her words slurring just a touch.
"I knew I knew you from . . . somewhere," she says, placing a hand on her hip.
"You should probably stop drinking," he says, moving to take the flute away from her.
YN steps back, jerking her glass and spilling a bit. It burns in her cuts and she whimpers, still refusing to let go of it.
"I can still remember. I don't want to remember today."
"Well we can't be having that," a new voice - Taehyung - calls out.
YN's blood runs cold as he yanks the glass away from her and shoves it into Jimin's awaiting hands. She can tell that he's angry and it's paralyzing.
"The Mrs. and I will be heading out now," Taehyung announces to the crowd, "It was a pleasure having you all here. Thanks so much for coming."
He guides the stumbling YN out of the venue, Jimin hot on their heels. In the back of the car, Taehyung hands YN a water bottle, forcing her to drink all of it.
"You shouldn't have done that," he says, glaring at her, "I'll make sure you remember every second of this day."
Chapter Eight
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