#I cannot shower until like saturday and I have to sleep sitting up
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menlove ¡ 1 year ago
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I no longer have boobs! I am a boobless being! I've become one of those ✨self mutilated women✨ the t//erfs warn u abt! I am the trans agenda!
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strqwberryfield ¡ 10 months ago
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jake sim - hugs
context: jake just returned to korea to suprise his beloved. at 2am.
contains fluffy fluff (based on a dream i had a couple of nights ago)
₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
it was around 2am. the home was quiet. rain bounces off the window. so quiet that if you drop a shampoo bottle in the shower, it would echo throughout the house. the day was saturday 5th january and jake's beloved girlfriend was sleeping soundly even though there was a missing presence. she did have some problems sleeping without him, her body slowly adapted and slowly filled the empty void.
that void was filled by sleeping in his basic clothes. even though y/n had perfectly fine clothes herself, she cannot help but put her stuff to the side and find comfort in the baggy clothes jake owns. the fluffy pillows and blankets surrounded and wrapped her body into a burrito, the soft linen scent followed by jake's cologne filled her nose. it almost felt like he was in the room with her.
earlier that day, they FaceTimed each other for around 1 hour until jake was needed for something. so their usual 5 minute farewells and "i love you's" were cut short. she did suspect something but she didn't want to mention or think further about the location the man was situated in, so she rubbed it off thinking it was either the green room where all the members were sitting in or his hotel room.
it was now 2:30am, and the girl was sound asleep. she wasn't informed that the trip to Japan ended one day earlier than it was scheduled. y/n was now slowly nearing the edge of the bed. one more toss or turn could possibly make her land on the floor. but luckily, the man she was so deeply in love with entered the home and quietly waltzed his way upstairs to tackle his girlfriend with his undying love. so as he opened the oak door to the shared room. y/n opened her eyes, and luckily she rolled away from the edge to sit up and see who was standing at the end of the bed. she quickly rubbed her eyes to get rid of any fatigue.
"jake? is that you?" she murmured, loud enough so he could hear."i thought you were coming home tomorrow?". the man laughed and replied with a "change of plans" a soft smile and eyes full of love is the face jake held at that moment. he was already in comfy clothes so luckily he could slide into the soft mattress y/n has been lying in alone for the last week. they quickly eloped in each other's arms, jake softly stroked the back of her head and kissed her forehead lightly whilst muttering softly "i love you" and praises that no one else but her has heard.
one more kiss on the crown of her head, jake tucks her head under his chin making her face his chest. sleep overtook him. the warmth his beloved was radiating along with the raindrops lulled him to sleep. he muttered an "i love you" for the last time until they wake up in each other's embrace again when the sun decided to greet them.
₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n: first post!!!! yes, this was based on a dream 😭
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lightbluuestars ¡ 1 year ago
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if Peemo got to be your boyfriend husband for the week, how would you spend it?
A WEEK?!! AN ENTIRE WEEK?!! oh my god i'd simply pass away (of love and happiness)
how should i put this, hm? just a day with this man would be enough!! (until it ends, then i'm empty for the rest of my life)
seven whole days of love and affection and appreciation for one another, oh my god
sunday would be particularly cozy, spending the day inside and just lovin on each other. hugs, kisses, cuddles, fueling each other for the week ahead. he'd have a ghoul tend to his plants, just for that day. preferably an earth ghoul, please.
monday would be kind of busy, having duties to attend to around the abbey and whatnot. inviting me out to his gardens and greeting me with an affectionate hug along with a sweet kiss. he'd show me around his gardens, pointing out specific plants and flowers he liked or thought i would like. the day ends with dinner and reading together in bed. i'd show him the pictures in my books, fascinated. (wwii books, i like them a lot, very interesting)
tuesday would come, and every morning is almost the same. waking up together, showering (depends on what mood we're in, together or alone), dressing, and leaving each other once again to preform our duties in the abbey. occasionally, i'd help him with his paints, but i don't often because i joke i don't trust myself with that kind of job. i simply cannot focus enough for that. this time, i invite him to have lunch with me, and we talk about what we had done earlier in the day, and what we will do. depending on our moods, we might spend the night in bed together pleasing one another, or we might stay outside and look at the stars. he likes to watch the stars, and points out constellations in the sky for me to look at.
wednesday arrives, and the morning is a free one. we shower together, and i attempt to apply his paints but fail miserably and end up a heap of laughter on the floor. he fixes his paints, taps my nose, and then we have breakfast. he brews some of his own tea, and i happily join him in sitting outside and enjoy the morning sun. we spend most of the morning outside, and he watches as i fashion flower crowns out of the clovers in the grass. (with his permission, of course.) i place one on his head, and one on mine. he smiles, and admires the crown i had made for him. the day ends with a nice bath (together, obviously) and doing our own thing before bed. he might finish up some paperwork, and i might end up drawing. a good day.
thursday is here, and he is gone when i wake up. turns out, he was needed somewhere, and left me alone. (sad, i know) i continue on with the day, barely even seeing him. i end up coming back and jumping his bones, and the entire night is spent together, making up for the lost time from the day.
friday, finally, and he's stuck in bed with a bad back. courtesy of last night's events. i take the day off, reassure him that his garden will be fine, because i asked a trusted earth ghoul to care for the garden. i care for him the whole day, brewing him tea and massaging his back. i draw a bath for him, with epsom salts, and leave him be for a while. after he's back in bed, i give him some painkillers and kiss his forehead, telling him to get some sleep. i stay up for a while longer, before retreating to bed and falling asleep next to him.
on saturday, his back is better and he can get back outside again. this time, he goes without the paints. it's a saturday, he can relax. he takes his time out in the garden, and will happily accept my help once i'm out there with him. i had brought him some tea and scones, and we enjoyed the morning together. the afternoon was spent in near silence, just existing together. the occasional turn of a page or the flutter of the curtains in the wind disrupted the silence, but it was well welcomed. we were happy together. the day ends curled around each other in bed, whispering words of affection until we drift off to sleep.
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nathank77 ¡ 5 months ago
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6/15/24
4:11 a.m Edited/Added to 4:25 a.m
I just got out of the shower. I shaved my face and head, it was giving me anxiety bc I'm going to my dad's Sunday no matter what I do and I had to do it tonight or tomorrow night so I looked okay when I went there...
I still got to figure out if I'm going to the car wash tomorrow or Sunday or putting it off for another week or two.... I don't want to, my decade with beauty is the 21st and I want her to be in tip top shape but it's a source of stress.
I'd like to game tomorrow all day and do the car wash Sunday before Dads. I'd like to count my sleeping pill very soon before bed and get another to last me until Monday but it's already 4 a.m and it's stressful but I cannot imagine, going to my dad's house and counting my sleeping pill after and showering... or counting/setting up my sleeping pill before going to my dad's and driving there. Car wash completely forgotten about. It's just a lot. Idk if I'll do it tonight or tomorrow but I cannot fathom doing it Sunday and I will inevitably shower after my father's bc the kids will be all over me and I'll feel dirty.
I wish my mother wasn't an addict so I could just leave them out and take it when I needed them and I didn't have to count them...
I didn't want to shower today, I wanted to shower tomorrow so I was super clean for dad's house. I prob will have to shower tomorrow... and set up my sleeping pill especially if I keep writing... which will ultimately ruin my game day the sleeping pill set up is extremely stressful. A huge ocd ritual and I have to do it for Monday...
I feel like after last night the hallucinations I detailed in the videos... that taking the smaller half is setting myself up for a bad night and I've had a very hard time falling asleep compared to other nights. Maybe I'll slowly go hyper... maybe I'm just stressed.. idk. It's just harder to fall asleep and I don't need scream hallucinations or hearing the voice repeat my thought in my head. Especially that one. That one makes me want to fucking end it all no regrets. I'm not leaving much behind and I cannot cope with that.
I still don't know what to do about the car wash/a potential game day... if I go to the car wash Saturday it is not a game day. I'll shower when I get home and watch TV all night..
If I don't go to the car wash and either go Sunday before dad's (I'll feel like an asshole especially since I can't afford a card for him) or I don't go to the car wash until another week bc it's pointless to do it Tuesday with the next weekends forecast (also Tuesday is a planned game day and I'm going to take it).
I could chose to stay home Saturday and skip showering and just do the sleeping pill and then just throw on deodorant and body spray before dad's on Sunday. It's not a bad plan. However the sleeping pill is a real day ruiner..
Anyways instead of writing about it I guess I'm going to smoke a cigarette and then decide if I'm doing it tomorrow and think about if I'm doing the car wash tomorrow or Sunday.
Idk but at least I shaved my face and head and got that out of the way. It was really stressing me out. To wait until Tuesday to game feels like wayyy too long tbh.
So yea idk. I decided I'll proceed on the Walmart purchase but not yet, I'll put off the gym bc the attic is super close to being complete and I love what I did with the closet and I love knowing where my stuff is. The project is like 2/4th of the way done. I don't want to stop now..it'll take me a month or so since I can't afford a lot of storage bins and I deserve the new blanket and the spare queen pillow top mattress cover. It acts as a spare sheet if I spill something. I'm not joking I spill tea on my bed like once a week and sit in a wet spot. I deserve better but yea..
Imma go and I'll update this later.
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queenshelby ¡ 3 years ago
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The Judge’s Daughter (Part Two)
Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader
Words: 4,753
 Warning: Angst, Drugs, Smut
Tag List:
@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  
………
Struggling
After your intimate moment with Tommy, you both had become distant. You were angry at him and felt mislead.
How could you have fallen for a man like this? A man who was known to toy with women and who, in his own words, was incapable of loving.
Your desire for this man was almost painful, too much to bear. Even after he told you that what happened between you was a mistake and despite your anger towards him, you still wanted him. Why, you didn’t understand.
Over the course of the day, Tommy arranged another meeting with his brother Arthur and his aunt Polly Gray. The meeting was being conducted at your house. After all, it was Saturday and Tommy’s hearing to have the arrest warrant dropped wasn’t taking place until Monday. This meant, he still had to hide.
No one but close family knew he was staying with you and, after what had happened with Jimmy McCaven’s men and following what Jesse Eden had told him, matters needed to be attended to rather urgently.
What you didn’t know was that Tommy had arranged for his men to keep an eye on your father. He knew that he was in danger if McCaven’s men didn’t return following their attempted attack on you.
But, his aunt Polly didn’t agree with his decision and you overheard them talk about you and your father.
‘I don’t understand why you would be protecting the man who wanted you arrested Tommy’ Polly asked.
‘I have my reason Pol, you just need to trust me, eh’ Tommy said.
‘Is your reason a woman?’ Polly asked somewhat annoyed. ‘Because what you should be doing is give up Y/N Rosenberg and her father to Mosley and McCavern. This would make them less suspicious about you. But what you are doing instead is protect these people. Why?’ Polly asked.
‘Because it’s the right thing to do Pol. McCavern will be dealt with over the weekend and will no longer pose a problem. Some of Abrahama Gold’s men got themselves arrested yesterday and will deal with McCavern in prison. It will appear to have been a revenge killing, completely out of my control. Then I am just left to deal with Mosley’ Tommy explained.
‘Thomas Shelby, doing something because it’s the bloody right thing to do. Don’t fucking lie to me. Are you fucking her?’ Polly asked.
‘Am I fucking who?’ Tommy asked.
‘Y/N Rosenberg. Your judgment in this matter is questionable and it’s always a fucking woman when you can’t think straight. Your love for Grace almost got us all killed when you revenged her death. I am not ready to go through this again Thomas’ Polly said.
‘Don’t fucking mention Grace alright. This has nothing to do with Grace or any woman for this matter of fact’ Tommy said.
‘Alright Pol, it’s time to go. We have stuff do’ Arthur said, trying to break up the argument between her and Tommy.
‘Fine, I am coming’ Polly said as she walked to the car without paying any further attention to you and without saying goodbye.
‘Be careful brother, eh’ Arthur said as he left.
After Arthur and Polly had left, you finally found the courage and want to speak to Tommy again after what happened.
‘Thank you for protecting my father’ you said after Tommy walked into the kitchen.
‘It’s the least I can do Y/N’ he said.
‘Would you like some tea? I have just boiled the kettle’ you asked.
‘I would love some tea. Thank you’ Tommy said with a warm smile. This is the first time since the day before that you hadn’t talked to him full of anger.
‘I saw Arthur giving you another bottle of opium’ you said.
‘Yes, he did’ Tommy responded rather bluntly.
‘I don’t want you to take this stuff in my house Tommy. It’s bad for you’ you said, somewhat concerned about his health and wellbeing.
‘It’s bad for me, eh?’ Tommy chuckled.
‘It will kill you one day. Just like it killed my brother’ you said.
‘And why would you care if it did, eh? It’s not up to you to fucking save me Y/N’ Tommy said rather annoyed.
‘Because I care for you Thomas Shelby. I don’t know why, but I do’ you said.
‘I am not who you think I am. I do bad things Y/N’ Tommy explained.
‘I know, but what I’ve noticed is that you do them to a good end and that’s all that matters to me’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.
‘I can’t be with you. Not now’ Tommy said.
‘Why? Is it because I am too young?’ you wondered.
‘No, it’s because I am in fucking love with you, alright. Being with me will put you in danger and I cannot fucking lose anyone else I care about. Everyone I ever loved is dead now Y/N. Every fucking one’ Tommy said dishearted and full of passion and anger at the same time.
‘Well, Thomas Shelby, then I will wait for you until danger passes’ you said.
‘You might be waiting a long time Y/N’ Tommy chuckled.
‘I know’ you responded as you walked over to him and caressed his face.
‘Why would you want to waste your time waiting for a man like me, eh?’ Tommy asked, his hand running over your cheek gently.
‘Because I am also in love with you Thomas Shelby’ you said and, just like that, he leaned in to kiss you again.
The kiss started off slow and gentle but soon became urgent and heated.
It had only been midday but you desperately wanted him to take you to your bedroom yet again.
Your desire within you to be with him grew as your kisses became more passionate by the second.
You truly were in love, for the first time in your life.
‘I want you to make love to me’ you said as your lips drifted apart.
‘Y/N, its noon’ Tommy chuckled.
‘And? Do you have somewhere to be?’ you asked.
‘Apparently not’ Tommy smirked as he lifted you up with the intention to carry you to the bedroom.
‘Let me have a bath first, I’ve been out in the garden’ you said with a smile and Tommy put you back down to the floor.
‘See you upstairs then eh’ Tommy said and, just like this, you disappeared into the bathroom.
The First Time
You scrubbed yourself clean in the bath, nervous and excited, eager and hesitant.
On one hand, you were rushing, trying to get out to Tommy as quickly as you could. On the other, you knew the moment you opened the bathroom door, everything would change.
Something as simple as dressing after your shower took minutes to figure out. It seemed silly to put clothes on, knowing that Tommy was about to remove them. Walking out with nothing on, though, was beyond what your modesty would allow.
You finally decided to compromise with a silk robe, which you had hung in the bathroom earlier that day.
After you put it on, a smile played across your face as you stared in the mirror. Whilst you were nervous, you trusted Tommy and you wanted this. You wanted him.
Once your hair was dry, the robe was on, and you had sufficiently stared at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and opened the door.
Tommy was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his undergarments.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, he stood up. His lips parted, but he didn't speak.
‘I'm ready’ you said softly.
He came to you and took your hand.
‘Are you sure that this is what you want?’ Tommy asked, knowing that this was going to be your first time sleeping with a man.
‘Yes Tommy. I want this. I want you’ you said.
‘I know, you're set on this. But if you change your mind or if something isn't feeling right you need tell me, alright?’ Tommy said.
‘Yes Tommy’ you responded before leaning forward to kiss him.
As you kissed, Tommy let go of your hand, running his hand up the side of the robe to your shoulders before removing it, exposing your naked body.
He gazed over your body with his deep blue eyes. You were nervous as you stood in front of him entirely vulnerable, but you refused to let your nervousness control you.
After the robe landed on the ground and Tommy had the chance to stare at your naked body the first time, his hands travelled back up your sides, grazing your breasts lightly before they reached your neck. Cupping your face with both hands, he brought you in for another kiss.
‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said, making you smile almost with embarrassment.
‘If you think so’ you giggled.
‘I know so’ Tommy smirked before telling you to lie on the bed.
He guided you onto the bed, fluffing the pillows around you so you were cradled in a nest of clouds, propped up so you weren’t quite lying flat on your back. When he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he joined you.
Again, he kissed you, and again you felt your limbs go weak as your mind went dizzy. Hovering over you, his head was a silhouette in the golden glow of the lamp in the corner.
‘What am I supposed to do?’ you asked nervously. Since your mother passed at a young age and you had no older sisters, you didn’t really have anyone to talk about sex with you.
‘Relax and let me take care of you’ Tommy smirked.
His lips pressed against yours before you could respond. Then they pressed to your chin, a gentle caress before moving on to your neck. His hair fell to the side of his face, tickling your skin as he feathered his way to your collarbone, his lips worshiping each patch of skin they pressed against. The tip of his tongue traced paths from freckle to freckle, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he mapped out your skin.
Fingertips brushed against your breast, prodding lightly as he held one in his hand. The kisses journeyed on, marking your chest and the tops of your breasts until his face was nestled in your cleavage. Again, his tongue darted out, finding an especially sensitive spot between your breasts that made me tremble beneath him.
The mix of anticipation and apprehension was intoxicating. You wanted to lose yourself under Tommy’s body, revelling in the feel of his lips against you, but the fear and excitement of what was to come clouded your mind. You told yourself to relax, to enjoy what was happening, to embrace the new sensations and the way electricity seemed to spark at Tommy’s lips and travel through your body. But your mind kept playing tricks on you and your nervousness took over.
Tommy glanced up at you, aware of the tension running through you.
‘Tell me what you're thinking’ Tommy said.
You bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you were out of your comfort zone.
‘Just a little nervous’ you whispered.
‘Do you want to stop?’ Tommy asked.
‘No’ you said as you finally closed your eyes and let your sensations take over your mind.
Tommy sucked on your nipple, then flicked it with his tongue, and a jolt of that captivating electricity shot to your core.
You moaned quietly as the hot wetness of his mouth moved against you.
You hadn't expected it to feel so good and Tommy spent quite a while there. Your enjoyment of what his mouth was doing was obvious to him. It wasn't until you squirmed beneath him, your pussy so wet you could hardly stand it, that he tore his heated attention away from your nipples and began kissing the underside of your breast.
He kissed your ribs, his tongue resuming its roaming from freckle to dotted freckle down your stomach. Both hands gripped your sides as he nuzzled against your belly button, then lowered to your hips as his lips moved an inch lower. He kissed that spot, and then an inch lower than that, and again until his lips reached the top of your mound.
You watched, your lips parting in astonishment as his head moved between your legs.
You were completely unprepared for what he was about to do. Sure, you had heard rumours of it, but in your naive little mind, you had thought it was just a joke, an urban legend, that people didn't actually do that. But there you were with Tommy in between your legs, pleasuring you with his tongue.
‘Oh god Tommy’ was all that came out of your mouth, a breathless squeak of shock at the foreign feel of his tongue pressed against your inner lips. You felt Tommy smile, saw his eyes practically sparkle just before he looked away and licked along your slit completely.
It was by far the strangest sensation that you had experienced, though not in a bad way. He explored you thoroughly, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice and even dancing along your entrance. He kissed you everywhere, from the ticklish spot where your leg met the swell of your pussy to nearly the lowest edge of your slit.
But, it wasn't until his lips surrounded your clit and he sucked incredibly gently that you understood just how much pleasure his tongue could give you.
Your eyes pinched shut as Tommy began to focus his attention there. He alternated what he was doing, spending time licking it, circling it, sucking it, and stroking it. You gasped for breath, the chills that ran through your body almost exhausting to keep up with, and a steady stream of quiet groans found their way out of your mouth without even consulting your mind.
He shifted slightly at one point, bringing your legs over his shoulders. Your thighs touched his ears, his hair tickling the inner spots that it brushed against as he lapped at you possessively, practically drinking the juices that were flooding your crease. You couldn't help but stare, watching as he ravished you, entranced at the sight of him pleasuring you in a way you hadn't even known possible.
The overwhelming feeling of losing control had just begun to prick through you when Tommy stuck a finger inside you.
‘Fuck’ you moaned as you held onto the sheets tightly while his finger entered you and his tongue never left your clit. Again, just as you groaned loudly, you could feel the foreign feeling of a smile against your most private place.
Moments later, he inserted a second finger just like the previous night. But, this time, with you lying beneath him, he found a spot you didn't know was there, the pad of his fingers pressing against it as he flattened his tongue against your clit.
‘Oh god Tommy, fuck…’ you moaned as the ascent quickened, rushing you towards the edge.
Your hands found Tommy’s head and you ran your fingers through his hair without thinking, instinctively desperate for something to hold on to. He didn't stop what he was doing as your legs tensed, didn't react when your wordless gasp turned to a muffled shriek, and didn't let go as you submitted to the lightning that consumed your body as your orgasm washed over you.
Your back arched and your thighs pressed harder against his head. Your eyes weren't open, but all you saw was white light as your body shook, everything from your toes to your fingers going numb with an electric passion that burst through you. It could have been seconds or minutes or hours; you had no concept of anything but radiating euphoria for a stretch of time.
When your body relaxed, it relaxed completely. Your thighs fell away from Tommy’s head and your fingers unfurled, releasing the grip you had on his hair. He withdrew his fingers from inside you and pressed a final kiss to the top of your mound before sitting up and grinning as he wiped his mouth.
You tried to say something but you weren’t sure what, exactly, to say. You wanted to apologise for pulling his hair. You wanted to thank him and kiss him and tell him you would be his forever if he asked you. It was likely for the best that you couldn't speak, just opened and closed your mouth a few times before shutting your eyes and groaning.
He sidled up alongside you, taking you into his arms as you regained your breath.
‘Are you okay?’ he smirked and all you could respond with was a slight ‘mhmm’.
‘I didn't even know that was a thing. Doesn't it... I don't know, taste strange?’ you asked as your mind began to function again.
‘Did you never get curious and tasted it yourself?’ Tommy chuckled.
‘No’ you said as your face went red. Tommy loosened his embrace and moved slightly back so he was looking at you.
‘Well, kiss me and find out’ Tommy chuckled.
He waited patiently for you to lean forward and kiss him. You did so uncertainly at first, your lips brushing against his as your own scent filled your senses. His lips were warm, still slick from their devotion to your pleasure. As you tasted yourself for the first time, you deepened the kiss, suddenly curious about the sweet, tarty flavour that lingered on him. It wasn't a bad taste at all, but more importantly, the memory of where that mouth of his had just been and where that taste came from excited you in a way you hadn't expected.
The kiss became about much more than finding out what you tasted like. Tommy’s arms tightened again, holding you close against his body. He still wore his undergarments, but you could feel the thick stiffness of his cock pressed against you, scorching hot even through the fabric.
He had distracted you with his mouth, but you wanted the rest of him. You slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for his stiff arousal. As your hand closed around him, he took a sharp breath, his hips moving forward to meet your hand.
‘I want to feel you inside of me Tommy’ you said just before Tommy leaned in and kissed you again.
‘Are you sure?’ Tommy asked once again as your lips parted.
‘Yes I am sure’ you said and, just like that, Tommy settled you on your back again, making sure you were comfortable before he slid to the other side of the bed and removed his undergarments. You watched, entranced, as he climbed on top of you and positioned himself in between your legs.
Your heart had to be loud enough that he could hear it. You felt almost cartoonish, as though it might jump from your skin and beat frantically outside your body.
‘If I hurt you, you tell me and I will stop, alright?’ Tommy asked as he moved himself forward, parting your legs further as he exposed your pussy, letting the backs of your thighs rest against the tops of his as he moved in closer to you.
‘Alright’ you said with a warm smile as you stared down between your bodies. You weren’t sure how exactly he would fit inside of you as you glimpsed at his size.
He took hold of his cock, nestling it against you. His tip slid against your slit for a moment, then was positioned at the entrance to your body. Once it was there, he propped himself up over you, one hand still wrapped around his cock and his face just inches from you.
His eyes didn't leave yours as he guided his cock forward. There was a moment of pressure, then a feeling of stretching as the thick head of his cock penetrated you.
You couldn't help it and tense up. The muscles of your canal tightened around his tip, gripping it, making the alien feel of having something inside it all the more pronounced. Your arms shook as your body stiffened, and Tommy stopped moving.
‘You need to relax Love’ Tommy said gently, causing you to nod.
The arm that was propping him up was near your shoulder and his hand found your hair, stroking it lightly.
‘I will be careful, I promise’ he said as you took a breath and closed your eyes.
A gentle brush of a kiss was pressed against your mouth as he comforted you.
Tommy moved his arm from between you, letting go of his cock as he pushed slightly more inside of you. You kept your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, the way your pussy was stretching to accommodate him and the feeling of his cock against your slick walls. There was a sense of discomfort, pressure, unfamiliarity as he paused again.
You opened your eyes and looked down in between your bodies. Tommy’s cock was about halfway inside you, your entrance encircling him tightly. It felt strange, almost unreal, and the sight of it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.
A small noise left your mouth as Tommy pushed forward even more. You watched more of his cock disappear within you, felt yourself filling up with his body. Soft pants left your lips as he sunk further and further inside you, until his skin was pressed against yours. He was all the way inside of you.
Tommy waited as your body adjusted to being impaled on his cock. It didn't hurt, that much was true. It was unfamiliar and strange, a fullness you could hardly have expected or explained, but it didn't hurt. You wouldn't have said it felt good, exactly, but it wasn't painful.
Yet another new sensation followed: a sudden loss of that fullness. As Tommy pulled his cock back out, your body relaxed even more, until just the tip of his cock was still nestled inside you.
I took a breath, as did he.
‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.
That was all he needed to hear as he started pressing forward again. That time, it felt less strange. The fullness overtook you as he buried himself inside you again. Again, he paused once he was fully inside you, then pulled back out.
The discomfort disappeared on his third thrust. The pressure became pleasure on his fourth. The fifth time Tommy buried his cock inside you, you sighed, your head tilting back. He dipped his head forward and kissed you, his lips warm and comforting against you as he withdrew his cock again.
You felt his weight shift as he began a slow rhythm. His arms were by your shoulders, supporting most of his weight, but you still felt the pressure of his body resting heavily against yours. He no longer paused when he was fully inside you, but moved consistently, treating your body as delicately as he would a butterfly. He kissed you, murmured soft words to you, told you that you were beautiful, before he moved his head to the side and buried his face against your neck.
Growing more comfortable with the physical aspect of having him inside you, you spread your legs as wide as they could go before wrapping them around Tommy, while holding on to his shoulders tightly as he continued to thrust into you.
Tommy groaned when you did. The sensation between your legs changed, his cock seemingly deeper inside you than it was before. His rhythm staggered a bit, a few shallows thrusts off-beat, before he held still for a moment.
‘What's wrong?’ you asked as gasped.
‘Nothing, it’s just that you feel so good and it’s hard going slow when I want you so fucking much’ Tommy said.
‘Then go faster’ you said as you bit your lip. ‘
‘I don’t want to hurt you Y/N’ Tommy said.
‘I will tell you if it becomes too much’ you said and, just like that, a low growl left Tommy’s throat and his teeth grazed your neck as he started moving again.
Even at that, you didn't think he let loose the way he wanted to, but his movements became faster, harder. A wave of intensity you me as he did, making my skin prickle with delight.
That was the point where it went from feeling comfortable to feeling good.
Tommy’s breath was hot against you as he thrust harder inside you. Small noises were pushed from your throat, tiny yelps as he took the pleasure he needed from your body. His chest moved against yours, your breasts bouncing slightly against him each time he buried himself inside you.
His breathing was heavy, hot against your skin. He pressed a kiss against your neck quickly before sitting up, your arms falling back to your sides and your legs untangling from behind him with the fluidity of his movement. Our eyes didn't meet until he had hooked his arm under your knee, pushing your leg up higher than you could on your own.
You cried out, your head tilting back into the pillow as he penetrated you again, deeper than he ever had.
‘Fuck’ Tommy grunted as his movements became more intense, slightly faster, his body slapping against yours as he tunneled inside you.
‘Tommy, oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned as he moved in and out of you in a violent speed. The thrusts were deep enough that you felt like the air was being pushed out of your lungs.
It wasn’t long until Tommy could feel your walls tightening around him and your legs began to shake and, just like this, with several more deep thrusts, your orgasm washed over you and it was more intense than anything you had ever felt before.
Just after you came, Tommy cried out with each thrust until his body shuddered, his eyes squeezing shut and his face twisting in pleasure as he came inside of you, filling you with his warm cum.
As he finished, he released your leg, leaning forward again and burying his face against you neck. A muffled groan vibrated against you, sending a chill through your body that made you grin.
Slowly, he pulled out of you before lying next to you and pressing his lips onto yours.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked after your lips drifted apart.
‘Never been better’ you responded before kissing him again gently.
Just in that moment, you heard a loud knock on the door followed by another.
Tommy instantly shot up and reached for his pants and then the gun on the dresser in the bedroom.
He indicated to you to call out to see who it was but, just in this moment, two men broke in the door.
‘We are after Thomas Shelby’ one of the men said and Tommy put on his undershirt and walked downstairs, holding the gun in his hand.
‘Drop the gun’ one of the men said and Tommy could see at least four more men outside your house.
He complied and placed the gun onto the table in the hallway.
‘Thomas Shelby, you are under arrest for the attack on Rubrik & Sons Factory and the murder of Joseph Rubrik’ the man said.
‘Officer, there must be a mistake’ Tommy said.
‘Unfortunately, no sir. We have the arrest warrant right here’ the man said, reaching for Tommy’s wrist.
‘Can I at least get fucking dressed, eh?’ Tommy asked, causing the man to nod.
‘Tommy, where are they taking you?’ you asked in a haste, tears were running down your face.
‘London I would say. It will be fine Y/N, alright’ Tommy said caressing your face and kissing you before putting on his shoes and shirt.
‘This is wrong, he didn’t do this’ you said, trying to argue with the officers.
‘Mam, please let us do our job’ they said before Tommy told you to calm down.
He assured you that he would be fine and he will be back to see you.
He gave you a last kiss before the police officers pulled him away from you and you broke out in tears again.
There was nothing you could do and there was nothing he could do other than willingly surrender.
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josiebelladonna ¡ 2 years ago
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so, let me tell y’all what’s going on in my life right now, why it’s been a couple of days since i updated one of my main longfics (a while by my standards):
i think it was on friday, my mom woke up with this sharp pain in her mouth and we figure it’s her wisdom tooth given the pain is really intense and then it just stops all of a sudden (at first, i thought it was tmj but it’s more a dental thing than a muscular/disk thing). the kicker? she doesn’t have dental insurance until fucking november, and given the nature of afflictions with wisdom teeth, the pain could faze out by that point. it’s nothing life-threatening, but it’s no walk in the park, though, because she’s actually losing sleep over it, like her sleep patterns have been so spotty the past couple of nights so she’s having to sleep on and off over the day. thus, i’m having to be caretaker of the house for the most part. her birthday is on saturday, too, and i really, really want to do something for her.
(side note: honestly, if we had just moved off of this fucking hill already, i guarantee none of this would have happened, because i’d be more than happy to be her eyes and ears and go places on foot or on bike and let her relax more because there’s only so much that i can do here. i just think back to when we went to monterey for my birthday this past spring, and i was out getting us breakfast and groceries and coffee and exploring the neighborhood while i was letting her rest (yeah, she was in a sour mood most of the time, but still). if i could get my mom a place to stay as my way of giving back to her, i’d do it in a heartbeat. so to that i say: our days in this house are officially numbered. in a strange way, i feel like this whole thing with her teeth is going to be the thing that gets us away from here, gets me away from here. i like the city, i like living in civilization. i cannot do the rural life: it’s given my muses life, sure, but i have too much “get up and go,” though, i can’t take living in a place where there’s nothing to do. writing and making art are literally the only things keeping me from going stir-crazy or ending up like my stepdad.)
but, just like how i worry about alex given he’s getting older and we live in such a chaotic time now and anything could happen to him, i’m finding it a little hard to concentrate on writing a full chapter of a story—and i’m usually motivated by hard times. the days are also getting shorter again so it’s a little disorienting to sit down and write and i look at the clock to find that it’s 12:30, and i’ve gotten into the habit of starting early, too.
and the other reason why is… i’ve been working on the kinktober fics! like i said, i’m motivated by difficulty. i’m already on day six and… man, alive. these things have been beasties, like the last couple of days alone have been doozies. that said, i’m thinking of today or tomorrow being a good day to update eerie inhabitants, it being rosh hashanah and whatnot 😉
i’m not going to be like my dumb father and get all fearful and negative and try to shove down my emotions because i know how to cope with the unknown without having to resort to booze. in fact, the last time i felt a dead weight on my shoulders like this was earlier this year, actually, when our plumbing backed up in february (i think it was?) and literally no septic service in a 50 mile radius wanted to help us, which i’m still trying to put my head around.  we could barely wash dishes or shower for something like three weeks, and the first “yes” we finally got, the guys chickened out because it had snowed and the hill down to the hatch was steep and so they offered to come back in the spring. but then like two days later, we got a hold of some guys who did in fact help us (oddly enough, one of them was named alex!). so… you never know. there could be a deus ex machina in the wings and i don’t have to worry nearly as much. i can actually be free from here.
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unholyobsessions ¡ 4 years ago
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Welcome to my dorm
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Warnings: eight year age difference. Mentions of kidnapping
Description: the FBI question you about your friend’s disappearance and you can’t help feeling for a certain doctor. (Inspired by scene above)
Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 There was heavy knocking on your door. You rolled over, burying your face deeper in the pillow. “Y/n l/n this is the FBI open up!” You let out a groan followed by a dry laugh. “Real funny Danny now let me sleep,” you yelled loud enough for who you assumed was your friend Danny to hear. The knocking continued, pissing you off. You let out a huff reaching over to your nightstand to put on your glasses and climbed out of your bed. “Damn it Daniel seriously if you don’t knock it off I swe-“ you opened the door and the words died in your throat. 
Two very attractive men were standing in front of you holding FBI badges up. You saw them eye you up and down which prompted you to look down at yourself. You felt heat rush to your face as you took in the loose booty shorts and bralette you were wearing. Both men put their badges away and stood awkwardly at the door. You snapped out of your embarrassed daze and cleared your throat. “I am not wearing the appropriate clothes for this. Come in.” You stepped out of the way and headed to your closet to grab a random sweatshirt, pulling it over your head. Once you were no longer exposed you turned to face the agents that were now letting their gazes wonder around your dorm room. You found yourself thanking past you for taking the time to clean it two days ago. When they realized that you were now fully dressed the dark skinned man spoke. “We are sorry to bother you this early, I’m Agent Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid and we need to ask you some questions.” The man who you now identified as Agent Morgan gestured to the tall curly haired man next to him. You smiled gently at both of them before pointing to the two chairs by the desk. “Questions regarding what, Agents?” You asked them as they sat down. “The disappearance of Haley Bowen. She went to school here.” This time it was Dr. Reid that spoke. Your eyes widened, you knew her. “Oh my God okay.” You took a deep breath, your brain not really knowing how to react. “Umm do you guys want coffee? I can’t really function without caffeine in the morning so I’m just going to make a pot.” You changed the subject quickly. Your friend was missing and the agents needed your help. You cannot break down. “No thank you.” Agent Morgan answered at the same time as Dr. Reid said, “Yes please.” You sent him a smile and started preparing the coffee. Morgan gave Reid a look and he shrugged as if to say ‘hey, coffee is coffee.’ “How do you take your coffee? Personally I take mine with too much sugar and too much creamer because I don’t really enjoy the taste of coffee but I’m still kind of addicted to it. Which my friends say makes me insane but I actually think it’s pretty normal. The taste is too bitter, reminds me of dark chocolate,” you stopped yourself. “Sorry I’m rambling I tend to do that in uncomfortable situations.” You looked at Dr. Reid expectantly and it took him a second to realize that you were waiting for his answer. “Oh uh three teaspoons.” He gave a small nod at the sugar in your hand. You smiled widely at him, seemingly glad that you were not the only one to enjoy overly sweet coffee. She’s cute, Spencer found himself thinking. After stirring sugar into both cups you walked over to the agents and handed one of the cups to Dr. Reid. Seeing as there were no more available chairs, you hopped on your desk and sat criss cross facing them. “So why are you asking me about Haley?” You took a long sip of your coffee. “She was last seen at the bar you work at.” Agent Morgan spoke but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off Dr. Reid. He’s cute, you thought. “So she disappeared on Saturday?” You let out a sigh. “You remember seeing her?” This time Reid spoke making direct eye contact with you. You nodded. “She was a regular so we became friends over time. She comes in every weekend to blow off steam. She’s double majoring so she has a lot on her plate. She sits at the bar. Same place every time so I’m always her bartender.” Both Agents nodded at the information given, internally relieved that this interview could result in a lead in the case. “Did you notice anything different about her that night? Anybody that tried to approach her or payed more attention to her?” Dr. Reid asked you. “Well she seemed nervous. She talks to me a lot, rants about her professors and stuff like that. She didn’t talk much on Saturday and she seemed restless. Fidgeting in her seat and playing with the rings on her fingers. I just assumed she was meeting a guy and that’s why she was nervous. I pay attention to her, she gets drunk often and all of the workers like to make sure that nobody too drunk walks home alone or leaves with someone they are uncomfortable with. Whenever she was uncomfortable with a guy trying to make a move on her she played with her rings. That’s when I knew to intervene.” You took a deep breath and a gulp of your coffee, burning your tongue in the process. You felt tears pooling in your eyes and you did your best to blink them away. “Did you see a guy approach her that night?” Again it was Dr. Reid who asked the question, his voice softer this time. You hesitated before answering trying your hardest to remember. “There was this one guy,” you paused, letting your mind wander back to Saturday night. “He wasn’t drunk like most people there. He talked to her while he waited for me to serve him his drink. He got a coke which was strange for someone who was clearly sober to order. I recognized his face but couldn’t place a name. I turned around to serve another group and when I turned back the guy was walking away and Haley was asking for her check. She wasn’t drunk, barely tipsy so I didn’t insist on calling her a cab. Damn it why didn’t I call her a cab?” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore. This was your fault, you should have made sure she got home safely, you should have called her at least. She was your friend and now she could be dead and it will be your fault. Sobs racked your body, your half empty coffee cup slipping from your fingers and shattering on the floor, the sound only making you cry harder. Morgan instinctively reached for your hand the words of comfort ready to be spoken. He was stopped when Reid leaned toward you and grabbed your hand away from your face. He gave it a small tug to make you look at him. He didn’t know what came over him at that moment. He didn’t shake hands and didn’t really touch people but all he knew was that he wanted you to stop crying and he never wanted to see you sad again. “Hey it’s not your fault.” His voice was soft but firm. “There was no way for you to know what would happen and you had no way to stop it. What you told us right now is extremely helpful and will help us bring Haley back home. Okay?” You gave a small nod of your head trying to calm yourself down. “It’s okay just breath with me.” Dr. Reid took a deep breath and you mimicked him continuing until your breathing was back to normal and only a few stray tears were running down your cheeks. “Thank you.” You sniffled and smiled shyly at him. “Would you mind coming down to the station later and giving a description of the man you saw with Haley to a sketch artist?” Dr. Reid looked you in the eyes, his deep look telling you that although it was phrased as a question it was really the only choice you had. “Yeah that’s okay.” You wanted to reach up and rub at your runny nose but you noticed that he was still holding your hand. He felt the slight movement and realized as well. The both of you blushed and averted eye contact while Agent Morgan looked at the two of you with an amused expression. Both Agents stood up signaling that they were prepared to leave. You lead them to the door and they both thanked you for your time. Before you closed the door Dr. Reid handed you his card telling you to call him if you remember anything else that might seem important. You nodded at him, not trusting your voice. You gave him a wide smile which contrasted with your red teary eyes but he still felt the breath being knocked out of him. After the door closed Morgan looked at Reid. “What was that?” Spencer played dumb and started down the dormitory hallway. “What was what?” He pushed the door to the stairs open and looked back at Morgan. “What do you mean ‘what was what’ you were totally into that girl.” Morgan grinned at him and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer started down the stairs, making a point to ignore Morgan’s laughter. • • • A few hours later you had taken a shower and put your contacts on. You put on a light face of make up and decided that this time when you met the agents you would be fully clothed so you put on a pair of jeans and a white tank top with a loose button up over it. You slipped on a pair of converse and headed to the police station. You walked up to the front desk and smiled lightly at the woman sitting behind it. “Hi I’m looking for Dr. Reid he told me I was coming in for a sketch.” The woman nodded and gestured someone over. You waited patiently as the two had a conversation and eventually Dr. Reid came into view. You smiled at him and it grew when he gave you a grin back. He guided you through the police station with a hand placed firmly on your back his hand pressing harder when one of the men in the holding cell wolf whistled at you. He brought you to a room where a sketch artist was sitting there waiting. “Here you go.” He mumbled under his breath. “Thank you.” You sat down as Reid left the room. You talked to the sketch artist for about 45 minutes trying to give as much detail as possible. You looked at your watch and noticed your afternoon shift at the bar was starting soon. You quickly thanked the artist and made a quick exit in hopes of not being late. You speed walked all the way to the bar and got there just in time to see the morning bartender ready to leave his shift. He sent you a tight lipped smile as you settled yourself behind the bar. The place was empty except for the man sitting at the bar who looked to be nursing a glass of whiskey. A few minutes later you heard the door ring signaling someone coming in. “Be right with you,” you called as you refilled the man’s glass. He was mumbling something about a cheating girlfriend which made you wince slightly. People dealing with heartbreak at a bar never ended well. You turned around to greet the costumer who had just taken a seat at the bar. Your eyes widened in surprise when you saw Dr. Reid sitting there with a sheepish smile on his beautiful face. “Dr. Reid what can I do for you?” He looked down for a second before making eye contact. He’s nervous, you thought. “I just needed to clear my head for a bit and I wanted to take a look at the scene and try to get a sense of what happened that night.” You nodded your head before giving him your signature smile. “Well can I get you something? I’m not going to offer anything alcoholic since you are still on the job but I do make a mean Arnold palmer.” You sent him a subtle wink, reaching under the bar for a glass. He snorted before accepting your offer. Setting the prepared drink in front of him, you spared a glance at the sulking man to find him slumped in his seat with light snores leaving his mouth. Damn, you thought, this is going to be a slow shift. You turned your attention back to the Dr. who was looking at you with a quirked brow having noticed the frown on your face. You quickly explained how you hated afternoon shifts because they usually consisted of you being bored out of your mind dealing with day drinkers. He struck up conversation to “relieve some of your boredom” as he so kindly put it. Conversation flowed extremely easy between the two of you, talking about anything and everything. From his experience in college to what your favorite song was at the moment. “I have a question,” he spoke after taking a bite of the french fries you had brought out at some point during the conversation. “I may have an answer. Ask away doc.” He smiled lightly at the nickname. “You’re a senior right?” You nodded your head, wondering where this was going. “So why do you still live in the dorms?” You let out a small laugh. “It’s part of my scholarship. I get free housing and I am also an RA.” He took a sip of his drink and mulled over the information. “Now it’s my turn. How old are you?” You told yourself it was an innocent question, that you held no ulterior motives other than curiosity.  His eyebrows rose before he set his glass down. “I’m twenty-nine. You’re twenty-one right?” “Yeah.” Eight years, you thought, not that big of a difference. You internally scolded yourself. You couldn’t be thinking that. He was here doing an investigation on your missing friend. He wasn’t thinking about picking up some random college girl who still lived in the school dormitories. 
Similarly, Spencer was having an internal battle about his feelings. He wanted to believe that what he was feeling was simple protectiveness over a witness, although it was pretty clear that you were not in any sort of danger. 
“So where do you live?” You asked in order to fill the silence that had taken place. “I live about and hour and a half away in D.C.” He felt the need to add the fact that he didn’t live far away from your current location.  “I’ve never been.” You said. He almost chocked on his drink. “You’ve never been to D.C.? But it’s so close!” Again with the proximity, could you be any more obvious? Spencer scolded himself.   “I know I know but I work most weekends and when I’m not working I’m studying so it is kind of hard to get free time.” I’ll take you. That is what he wanted to say. He had to stop before he made a fool out of himself. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. Sure he has been attracted to plenty of girls before but you were different. You didn’t stop his ramblings about statistics and random facts that he had in his brain. You listened to him and sometimes even asked to him to elaborate more on a certain subject. You also tended to ramble like when he asked about your family, you went on a tangent about how your mom was your best friend and your younger sister had a dream of being a dancer. Or when he asked about your major and you went on to explain all the research you were doing. You were so passionate about everything you talked about. He smiled at the happiness in your eyes. They were still bloodshot from your breakdown this morning but they held so much happiness and hope that he couldn’t help but feel the same. He was about to reply when his phone rang and he realized he had been talking to you for over an hour. More than halfway to D.C., he thought. He answered it and heard Morgan’s voice telling him to head back to the station as they had found the name of the man who talked to Haley that night. “I uh- I have to go.” He gestured behind him to the door but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up yet. You nodded your head, slightly disappointed that he had to leave. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the card he gave you this morning, writing down your number on the back. “Call me if you find her. Please. Dead or alive I don’t care I just don’t want to find out from the news.” You handed him the card and he looked down at it. “Don’t you need my number if you need to call me? If you have more information that is.” He questioned. “Oh I already put it on my phone. Is that weird?” He looked at you with something that you couldn’t put your finger on. “No, not weird. Kind of cute actually.” He smiled down at you, having already stood up from the bar chair. You blushed and looked away from him. Your blush gave him a sudden surge of confidence. “Can I call you? Even if it isn’t about Haley. Can I just call you?” You smiled brightly at him. “Yes Dr. Reid you can call me.” “Spencer,” he said. You gave him a confused look. “Call me Spencer.” He took a step back heading to the door. “Spencer.” You tested the name on your lips, the smile never leaving your face. He grinned at you and walked out the door. • • • The next day you received a call from Spencer after your lecture. You smiled down at your phone before answering. “Spencer to what do I owe the pleasure?” “Hey y/n we found Haley.” Your heart stopped, the voice in your head praying for it to be good news. “She’s alive and being taken to the hospital.” A long breath left your lips as tears stung your eyes. She’s alive. She’s alive. Without thinking you hung up the phone and hurried to find a cab that could take you to the hospital. You payed the man quickly and took off after he pulled up to the curb. You saw Spencer with Agent Morgan and a woman you haven’t seen before but you assumed she was a part of their team. “She’s okay? Please tell me she’s going to be okay.” You started speaking as soon as you were within hearing distance of Spencer. As he soon as he saw you his eyes softened. “She’s in the ICU right now. They are setting her up and her mom is on the way.” He looked down at you and his heart broke at the tears that were making their way down your cheeks. “Oh thank god. Who was it? Was it the guy I-“ your voice broke before you could finish but Spencer understood what you wanted to ask. “Yeah it was. If it wasn’t for you remembering him it would have taken us a lot longer to find her. You saved her y/n okay?” He reassured you because he knew what you were thinking. It was written across your face. You could have stopped him. “You had no way of knowing. Don’t blame yourself.” He placed his hands on your shoulders as you nodded your head weakly. You leaned your head on his chest needing some sort of comfort from what you were feeling. He didn’t push you away. In fact he pulled you closer and let you cry, staining his shirt. Morgan and Prentiss gave each other a bewildered look because Spencer Reid did not hug. Much less strangers who were witnesses on a case. A doctor came into view and cleared his throat. “Haley Bowen,” he called out. You pulled away from Spencer and walked toward the doctor. “Yes?” He gave you a smile which you took to be good news. “She’s going to be fine. She has a concussion, bruised ribs and sprained wrists from being bound but I have no doubt that she will make a full recovery and be out of here in the next few days.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Can I see her?” The doctor shook his head. “Right now it is family only and I’ve been told her mother is not far but after she gets moved out of the ICU tomorrow you can come visit her at any time.” The doctor finished and walked away. You turned back to the three agents who were now looking at you. You felt awkward in their gaze so you locked eyes with Spencer. “Thank you Spencer really. I should go I have a class in about 40 minutes but hey don’t be a stranger.” You pointed an accusing finger at him and he let out a laugh. “Spencer?” Prentiss and Morgan mouthed to each other. “I won’t I swear. I’ll call you later?” He ignored the questioning looks his coworkers were sure to be giving him. “I’d like that. Maybe you can show me around D.C. sometime.” He smiled as he remembered their conversation yesterday. “Definitely.” You blushed, something that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Bye Spencer.” “See you later y/n.” He watched you disappear from view before turning back to Morgan and Prentiss. “Okay what the hell was that?” Prentiss spoke up first. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smiled innocently at both of them before walking away in search of coffee, ignoring his friend’s calls from behind him. He wondered if you would mind him calling you earlier than expected.
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ghostofbucky ¡ 4 years ago
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Hi!
This is my first imagine in a very long time and first in English so please be nice 😂
But I welcome constructive criticism 😁
Warning: mentions of abuse, blood and that's it I think
Enjoy!
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In the middle of the night
She was half asleep on her bed, Youtube videos playing on her laptop, when she heard knocks on her window. She was home alone, she could feel fear creeping up and decided to not move, waiting for it to leave. But then she heard her name.
ÂŤY/N, please open up...Âť
She sat up in her bed, turning her bedside lamp on to see JJ's figure behind the window. Wondering what he's doing here in the middle of the night, she gets up and walks towards him and opens the window.
What a... she starts before noticing the cuts and the bruises on his face.
She steps aside to give him room to get in. JJ doesn't even have the time to stand straight that she engulfs him in a tight hug. He hugs her back, letting his head fall in the crook of her neck while she caresses the back of his head. 
After a while she leans back and takes his face between her hands and looks straight in his eyes.
ÂŤDid he do that?Âť
JJ just closes his eyes with a frown and nods.
Fucking asshole... she breathes out, checking him out for other wounds, but all she could see was dried blood, dirt and sweat.  Would you like to clean up or, uh, take a shower before I patch you up? 
- I won’t say no to a shower. »
She leads him to the bathroom and gives him a clean towel.
«I’m gonna get you some of my dad’s clothes to change, I’ll be right back! 
- Thank you. 
When she comes back, JJ is standing in the middle of the room in his underwear. It’s not like she’s never seen him shirtless, they spent their free time on a boat or surfing but she can’t help and stare a little making him smirks. She puts the t-shirt and pairs of sport shorts on the counter, blushing.
«Just call me when you’re done.» She smiles and leaves the room.
She goes back to her room, freaking out a little due to all the emotions she felt in the past 10 minutes and her non-helping crush on the blond boy currently showering in her bathroom. She closes her laptop, stopping whatever video that was still on and tidies her room to calm her nerves. 
ÂŤAre you okay Y/N?Âť
She jumps and turns around to see JJ in her doorframe, looking at her concerned.
«Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.
- I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come...
- No, everything’s fine JJ! It surely is not how I expected my Saturday night to go, but I rather have you waking me up in the middle of the night than you staying with your dad completely wrecked. Now, come here!»
She takes his hand and walks to the bathroom where she makes him sit on the toilet while she goes and takes the first-aid kit. While she puts some cream on the small cuts and bruises and band-aids on the bigger cuts, she can feel his gaze on her which makes her heart beats faster. It’s not the first she takes care of him after a fight, but tonight, being so close to him makes her kind of troubled, feeling the warmth radiating from his body lits her body on fire.
All done! As good as... almost new!  They both laugh.
Thank you Y/N, really.
- You’re very welcome. »
JJ stands up, hovering her small frame. They lock eyes before she steps back, blushing even more.
 Do- Do you wanna eat or drink something? she asks, washing her hands.
A beer sounds good! 
- JJ...
- I’m kidding! Just some water please. » 
She comes back to her room with two glasses of water and sees JJ sat on her bed against the headboard. She gives him one glass and sits next to him. They stay silent for a while, watching the trees slowly moving in the moonlight.
Do you... want to talk about it?
- Not really, no...  JJ replies, shaking his head.  I just want to sleep... 
And with that he sets his glass on the floor and lay down next to Y/N. She follows his actions and turns the light off, her heart racing to the thought of JJ sleeping in her bed next to her.
Um... Are you going to be in trouble?
- What for?  she turns on her side to look at him, already looking at her.
ÂŤLetting me in...
- JJ... My dad is not your biggest fan, but he cares about you enough not to leave you on the streets when you need help. Everything’s gonna be okay. »
He closes his eyes with a small sigh of relief, and she can’t help herself to caress his hair glowing in the silver light. When she realises she goes to take her hand off but he takes it in his own and presses it against his cheek with a smile.
Can I ask you a question? she whispers after a moment.
ÂŤShoot.
- Why’d you come here? The chateau or even Pope’s is closer. Why did you cross half of the cut in your state? »
He shuffles a bit, getting closer to the girl. He opens his eyes and bits his lips, debating if he should tell the whole truth or come up with a lie like he has the secret.
«To be completely honest... I- I wanted to see you. When I was fighting with my dad, I could only think about seeing you again... I like you, Y/N. A lot. You’re the only thing that keeps me going. And I just want to be with you. »
She doesn't need more to bring him in a tight hug.
I like you too JJ. So much. 
He smiles and holds her a little bit closer. As they break the hug, he leans in until their noses touch, savouring the moment, the closeness. But she cannot wait any longer and kisses him like her life depends on it. After a long and passionate kiss, they pull away and look into each other’s eyes smiling.
And there goes the no pogue on pogue macking rule out the window.
- As if I’ve ever followed a rule!
- True!  she laughs and kisses him again.
71 notes ¡ View notes
mauvecherie-writes ¡ 4 years ago
Text
The Bodyguard.
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PAIRING: Guillermo Sollima x Black reader.
SUMMARY: In the midst of a gang war, you, the daughter of a cartel boss must be moved for your safety. Your father hired a bodyguard for you to protect you during the journey. You just never expected to ever fall for the man …
WARNING: NSFW*** angst, graphic violence, kidnapping, age-gap (over 21), sex.
WORD COUNT: 7.9K
NOTE: This was a piece that I wrote during my wattpad days. I had a massive crush on Benicio Del Toro and I still do, it’s just lowkey lol. I decided to upload this specifically for @anbanananna​. She keeps the flame going. PS: I wrote this a very long time ago so it is a bit cringe lmao, please spare me.
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The birds chirped lovingly outside of her windows as she woke up that beautiful Saturday morning. The sun was high up in the sky and clear of any type of clouds. It instantly put her in high spirits as YN got ready for her day. She moved swiftly around her spacious bedroom as she moved from her bathroom to her closet to her vanity table. There was no reason whatsoever for YN to get so dressed up but she just felt like doing so. After putting her hair into a high ponytail, she grabbed her phone and left her room. Her spaghetti flower print summer dress flowed behind her as she walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen.
She could hear commotion from one wing of the house but she didn't want to bother herself with that. When she entered the kitchen she saw Ramon and his staff working on cooking breakfast but Jade did not feel like waiting. She sat at the kitchen islet and waited.
"Good morning Miss YN." Ramon greeted her.
"Good morning Ramon. What are you serving for breakfast?"
"Today it is going to be very simple, between pancakes and waffles."
"Easy choice. Can I have some waffles please?"
"With all of the toppings?"
"Extra maple syrup please." YN smiled at him before he left her. As she sat at the islet, she scrolled through her phone, replying to her friend's messages and her social media catching up on the latest gossip. As she did so, she didn't notice her father enter the room.
"Good morning mija." He greeted as he placed a kiss onto her forehead.
"Morning papa." She replied to him as he sat beside her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked her.
"I'm good. Just waiting on Ramon to make my breakfast. Theresa is coming by later to pick me up so we go hangout with our friends." YN told her father about her day.
"I need to talk to you before you leave."
"Okay papa."
After that, her father left her alone. She was a bit worried about what he wanted to talk about because most of the time, he would just tell her out front. Rafael Estes was her father.
Rafael Estes, the most feared and most powerful drug lord in Mexico was her father. Her mother was his favourite mistress. He never hid their relationship but when she got pregnant with YN, she left Mexico and moved to Brazil. They stayed there until nine years and her mother became ill. Rafael came to their rescue. He moved them back to Mexico and took care of her and her mother until she passed away five years later. YN wasn't his only child but she was the only one who still lived with him. She was twenty-two and she could have left already but she was too close to her father to just leave. She didn't want to take over his empire, that was up to her older brothers to deal with.
YN tried to live her life as normal as possible and that's why she kept her mother's surname. The two didn't even look alike but when they were standing next to each other,  you could see the relation. She did all the things girls her age do. She was enrolled into a private university and she had a group of friends and they all knew who her father was. To be honest it was kind of hard to hide because wherever she was, there were some guards around. They never shadowed her but they were always in the background of where she was except when she was at university.
When she finished her breakfast, she went to get her bag and when she entered the hallway leading to her father's office, it was littered with some of his workers. They all respectfully greeted as she passed by. Her father's office door was wide open so she just stepped in. She noticed a man standing in front of her father's desk. From the back she could tell that he was decked out in high tech gear. Instantly, her mind began to race.
"Papa." She spoke, causing both of the men's heads to face her. The first thing she noticed were his hazel eyes. Followed by his rugged, rough beard that was thicker around his pink lips than on his cheek bones. His black hair was pushed back in a messy kind of way that looked like he continuously ran his hand through it. She blushed when he smirked slightly.
She had been staring at him for a bit too long. "Mija sit down."
YN did as she was instructed. Her body was still nerved by the man standing behind her.
"You know I would have never called you in here if I didn't think the issue was serious." She nodded her head. "I never want to stress you with my business but I've been put in a position where I need to let you know some things."
"Is everything okay Papa?"
"Things will be baby. Right now I'm in the midst of a drug war with the Medellin cartel. It's getting a bit too dangerous so I'm going to have to make sure that you aren't caught in the crossfire." He said. "The man behind you is Guillermo Sollima and I've hired him to protect you as he takes somewhere safe."
"What about you?"
"I'll be okay."
"I can't lose you too."  YN felt like crying as the realisation began to sink in.
"And you won't mija. But I cannot in good conscience let you stay here knowing people are coming to look for me. I'd rather you bury me and I bury you if the time comes."
"Why can't you come with me?"
"Because these boys think they can run me away and take over my territory. As a good leader, I stick with my men no matter what it is." Rafael said. "The maids have already packed some of your clothes. You need to leave today ...."
Everything was so sudden and YN sat in the chair as she tried to come to terms with what she was being told. It was like everything was in slow motion. She didn't even know when she got out of the seat and found herself walking back to her room. She got dressed in something more comfortable and she kept her hair in her ponytail. She packed some reading books to keep herself entertained. She messaged her friends that they wouldn't be able to talk to her for a while and none of them questioned her and after she turned off her phone.
After an emotional goodbye with her father, she got into the car and they drove away. As she was sitting in the back as tears silently fell, Guillermo watched her through the rear view mirror.
"Everything will be alright." He spoke to her for the first time. She looked at him to find his striking hazel eyes already on her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you've got me."
.
And he was right. As they traveled through the length of Mexico towards its south border, there was no trouble. Well there was no trouble that ever came close to YN. Guillermo kept her well away from it. There were times that he would come back to where they were staying with cuts and bruises and she tended to them. Those were their bonding times. He wasn't much of a talker but when he did, she enjoyed hearing his voice. He told her stories of his endeavours across the globe as a service man for the CIA. He didn't hide the fact that he was a contracted assassin for them. He wasn't on any side of the law. He was on the side that paid him the most money. And her father had paid him in the millions to make sure that she got to his private island off the coast of South Argentina.
They were now in Brazil. YN spent most of her days with the locals in the market or in the little apartment they were renting out. They were only supposed to stay for a few days but it had been more than a week now. Guillermo told her that he was having a little bit of trouble with looking for transport but he was working on it. Even though he didn't tell her. but she had noticed that whenever she left the apartment, she had noticed that there were eyes that would watch over her.
Today, she didn't feel like leaving so when she woke up, she took a shower and cooked some breakfast. She looked towards Guillermo's room and she didn't hear anything. She didn't want to disturb him just in case he was in there sleeping. She placed his plate into the microwave and went to sit by the television. She was so engrossed in her show that she didn't hear the front door open and Guillermo stepped into the room.
"Morning YN." He spoke. Jade placed her plate onto the table and turned around.
"Morning G." She greeted him with a smile. But it quickly faltered when she saw him clutching onto his side. "What's wrong?"
"I got into a little fight. It's okay."
"You look hurt." YN rose to her feet and went towards him. He knew not to protest against her because she would just keep on persisting that she help until he let her. He sat down on the couch and as he gingerly took off his shirt, YN grabbed the first aid kit and came back to him.
"You've been in too many fights since we got here. That's not good Guillermo." She scolded him as she began to clean up his wound. It wasn't deep but it still drew a lot of blood.
"I'm sorry mama." He playfully replied. She looked at him through her lashes and those piercing hazel eyes were staring down at her. "Someone said something I didn't like and I just had to set them straight."
"What did they say?"
"You wouldn't want to know. It was disrespectful to you." After that they didn't speak any further until she fully cleaned and covered his wound.
"Well thank you for defending my honour." She told him as she lightly traced the now bandaged wound. Her fingers aimlessly began to trace his tattoo that was on the side of his torso.
"No problem." He mumbled softly. Her touch was affecting him in ways he couldn't explain. He didn't want to openly admit that he was attracted to her but in his mind he kept repeating that she was too young for him. YN didn't seem to care because there were times where they would mindlessly flirt and she seemed to always give in. He stopped the hand that was tracing his tattoo and her eyes averted back to his.
"I'm sorry." She whispered softly.
"It's okay." He told her. He didn't want to let go of her hand. It was so soft in his. She bit onto her lip when she noticed their closeness. Every part of her was telling her to close that gap and kiss him but she didn't want to make the first move.
They didn't need to speak as their bodies did the speaking for them. Guillermo placed his hand on her cheek and caressed her skin with the pad of his thumb. YN found herself shifting her position and sitting on the back of her legs to be closer to his face. She held onto his hand as she waited for him. But it looked like he was waiting for her to consent verbally.
"Please." She whispered softly. Guillermo finally closed the gap between the two and laid his lips onto hers. She didn't expect them to be so soft but they were. Like marshmallows. His mouth tasted like menthol with the slightest hint of nicotine. He held the back of her neck as his tongue invaded her mouth and it caused her to moan softly. Guillermo dominated over her and she found herself getting weak. Their breathing became heavier as their kiss intensified. She was still mindful of his wound but he didn't seem to care as he pulled her onto his lap causing her to gasp.
Without giving her room to breath, Guillermo deepened the kiss. He would nibble on her bottom lip, suck on her tongue and squeeze on her body. She felt like risking it all. Her thighs clenched as he slowed down the kisses. His  grip on her neck was still there as he kept her in place.
When he finally pulled away, her chest was heaving up and down as she tried to calm down. Her inner thigh was pressing against his length and she could feel it harden underneath her.
"Your breakfast." She was still struggling for breath as she laid her forehead against his. "Your breakfast is in the microwave." She mumbled as she blushed softly.
"Thank you." He replied, licking his lips, savouring her taste. She didn't want to move so she just stayed on his lap causing him to chuckle. YN squealed as he stood up and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Since you didn't want to move."
YN giggled as she placed her head in his neck. Their relationship had now reached other heights and she didn't want to change a thing.
Her bodyguard was now more than that .....
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YN couldn't believe how beautiful Uruguay was. They were at the border of the country with Argentina. Being that Uruguay was a safer country, YN didn't need to hide her face or be cooped up in the apartment. For the two days, she had spent most of her time, getting supplies upon supplies, from canned foods to toiletries. Once they entered Argentina, they wouldn't stop travelling, only to get some sleep, a shower and hot food until they got to the south. The journey was going to be long but YN couldn't wait until she reached her father's island. She was now wearing her natural hair and had no false nails anymore. She also stopped wearing makeup and she felt so good.
Guillermo was sitting on the floor as he cleaned his weapons and packed his ammunition. Luckily enough, YN  had not been exposed to any type of gun fire but she knew that he had definitely killed some people for her protection because he often came back with bruised knuckles and a black eye a few times. Her growing attraction to him did not stop, it only intensified. He was leaning against the wall, dressed in a white vest top and his trousers. He was sharpening his knife when he finally looked up and smiled when he saw her looking at him. She was laid on her side on the couch in a soft flowing summer dress.
“Come here.” He said softly as he placed his weapons down and pushed them away at a good distance. YN got up from her seat and to where he was on the floor. She clutched on the sides of her dress as she lowered down onto his lap. Once she was situated, she wrapped her arms around his neck as his arms came to her neck.
"What's wrong mi amor?" He asked her as his thumbs caressed her back.
"I just wanted your touch." She replied as she pulled him up closer to her face which caused him to chuckle.
"All you had to do was ask baby." He mumbled as his lips tickled hers. YN bit onto her lip. No guy had ever made her feel the way Guillermo made her feel. So many times she had chucked it to the fact that they were in isolation together but the feelings she was getting for the man seemed far deeper. This man was risking his life for her protection. But it wasn't just a job anymore. He was doing this because he cared for her and he wanted to see her safe from danger. He knew that they were far from it but he could never be too sure with her father's enemies. The private island was heavily guarded and he knew getting her there she would be out of harm's way.
She dropped her head shyly onto his shoulder. Guillermo placed soft kisses on her skin. He hooked his finger onto the strap of her dress and brought it down. His beard tickled her skin but she enjoyed the feeling. His other hand began to inch her dress further up until his hand was underneath her dress and playing on the hemline of her underwear. YN bit onto her lip as she ran her hand through his hair.
"Please Guillermo." She asked him as she thrusted her hips forward softly onto his fingers. He placed his forehead onto hers as he pushed her underwear to the side and began to rub on her clit. She moaned as her eyes fluttered close.
“Tell me what you want love.” He whispered into her ear as he inched one finger into her.
“I want to feel all of you.” She whispered to him which caused him to groan softly. He pulled down the rest of her dress so that it pooled onto her waist. He leaned forward as he captured her lips. He nibbled onto her bottom lip as he entered his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered as he began to finger her at a steady pace. His fingers were skilled and she could quickly feel her orgasm rising. Guillermo tore his lips away from hers and popped her nipple into her mouth. He yearned for the moment that she would be like this in his arms. He focused on all of the love faces that she made. The tremble of her lips and the scrunch at the corner of her eyes. He loved seeing the way her lips would shape to make those sweet moans that he enjoyed hearing.
"I'm going to cum." She moaned as she grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and rode his fingers faster. His fingers curled and pressed onto her spot and the other squeezed her ass. "Fuck!" YN cussed as her walls squeezed his fingers, trapping them inside of her. She cried out his name as she exploded all around his fingers. He pulled them out and she took his hand and began licking his fingers clean as she stared deeply into his eyes. It was then when she felt his hardened length underneath the softness of her thigh. Guillermo took his fingers out of her mouth and replaced them with his tongue. He moaned against her lips as the taste of her invaded his taste buds. He stood up with her in his arms and walked to the bedroom with their lips still in contact. When he laid her down, stripping her clothes, his lips and hands were never far from the sweet spots. Guillermo stopped for a while to strip his clothing. YN took in all of his scaring and thought that he was beautiful anyway. He got onto the bed and in between her legs. Facing her beautiful pink pussy budding like a rose, he leaned down and ran his tongue up from her slit to her clit and he did it over and over.
"Oh my god." YN moaned as her eyes closed and she fell onto the bed. Guillermo ate her out like he had not eaten in days. He would pay close attention to her clit, sucking into his mouth and slobbering onto it. He thrusted his tongue into her core and wiggled it. It was all too much for her but she didn't dare pull away from him. In fact, she kept his head in between her legs.
"Oh fuck!" She squealed as her legs shook from her impending orgasm. Her eyes were beginning to cross as her whole body convulsed. Without any warning, she came into his mouth. But he didn't stop. It deepened his hunger. He gripped her thighs and continued licking her. Her clit was extremely sensitive and he used that to his advantage.
She struggled for air as she tugged on his hair and the sheets.
"Baby." She breathlessly let out as her third orgasm was triggered.
"Let it all out sweetheart.” He groaned, biting onto her inner thigh as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. Even though her mouth was wide apart, no noise came out but her cream coated her fingers. Determined to draw another orgasm out of her, he got onto his knees and held one of her legs apart as he thrusted his fingers into her faster and faster.
"Oh shit!" She exclaimed. "Fuckkkk! Papi wait!" She gasped as the strong urge to pee gripped her.
"I'm gonna squirt." She told him and tried to push his hand away but he wrapped his arm around her throat and looked into her eyes.
"Cum." He demanded. YN's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she splashed onto his fingers.
"Yeah, that's it. Make a mess." He told her as her thighs shook in the aftermath. He slapped her pussy which caused her to whimper. He hovered above her and she placed her hands onto his neck and brought him down to capture his lips. She moaned as the scent of her essence filled her nostrils. He held onto the calves of her legs as he dropped his bottom half so that his length was rubbing against her opening before he slowly entered into her and began to thrust at a steady pace.
He swallowed all of her moans. She felt so good. She was extremely wet and gushy. Every time he thrusted into her and pulled out, her cream coated his length. He groaned as she squeezed him tightly.
“So fucking wet. You’re taking me so well Princess.” He groaned as he pecked her lips. His words were turning her on. Hearing him being so vocal about made her smile because he was usually so quiet to the outside world.
"Fuck me harder Daddy." YN told him as she looked up into his eyes. She smirked as she saw his eyes darken. He laid down so that their chests were pressed together. He wrapped his hands around neck from the front and the back as he pounded into her harder and harder. He completely took her breath away. She had no words but she panted and held onto his arms, digging her nails into his skin.
"Is this what you want?" He huskily mumbled into her ear and then nibbled on her earlobe. "Me fucking you deep and hard like this."
"Yes Daddy! It feels so fucking good." She exclaimed. YN couldn't take it anymore but she wasn't going to give up now. "You're so fucking deep, I love it."
Guillermo sucked and nibbled on her skin, leaving marks where his lips touched. Her hands reached out gripping onto the pillows as his hands ran into her hair gripped on it as he fucked her harder and harder.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier and sloppier.
"You're going to cum baby? I feel you throbbing inside of me." She moaned seductively which caused him to grunt. She ran her hands down his back and squeezed his ass as she kissed all over his face as she rolled her hips. "Please cum." She whispered into his ear. "Please cum for me."
That was all it took for him to pull out and let his seed paint her thighs. As he came down, she wiped away the evidence and collapsed back onto the bed, completely sedated. Guillermo laid down beside her and placed a kiss onto her cheek. She turned around and kissed him.
"We leave in the morning." He told her which caused her to nod her head and then slowly but surely fell asleep …
—
Six men were circulating the apartment. They were all ready to enter the building. No words were spoken and as they nodded to each other and then began to walk closer to the entrance.
Three soft knocks came to the door and then a note was slid through the bottom of the door. Guillermo picked up the note and read it. Even though he should be panicked, he didn't need to worry. He had already packed the car, all he needed to do was wake up YN and leave. He put the silencer on the gun and enters the bedroom.
"Princess, wake up. We need to go now." He whispered urgently. YN was a light sleeper so when she heard his voice she got and put on her shoes. They walked hand in hand out of the apartment. Guillermo kept her behind his body as they slowly descended down the stairs. Just as they turned a corner, they were faced with a man in a mask. Guillermo placed the nose of the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. Effortlessly, he took out two other men.
They ran out of the car and he pushed her into the car.
"Hide." He told her. She nodded her head and laid on the floor of the cab of the truck.
Guillermo turned round and went back to the building. When he got back into the building. He found the rest of the men all standing there. He shot one of them through the back of his head which grabbed the other two's attention. One of them punched Guillermo's hand which caused him to drop his gun however he quickly recovered as he poked the man's throat with four fingers, breaking his larynx and crushing his windpipe. As the man struggled to breath, Guillermo bent down and grabbed his gun, shooting the man in the knee and as he fell, a bullet went through his forehead. From the corner of his eye, he saw the last man standing reach for his gun. Guillermo, being quicker, grabbed his knife and threw it. It hit him right into the chest and he collapsed. Guillermo walked up to the man and shot him in between the eyes and then pulled out his knife, wiping the blood on the dead body's clothes.
He walked back out into the car and knocked three times. "YN, it's me."
YN sat up and unlocked the door. Guillermo got in and sat in the driver's seat as YN made her way onto the passenger's seat. "Did you see anybody else?" He asked her.
"No." She replied. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." YN leaned forward and pecked his lips. "Let's get out of here."
Without anything further, Guillermo put the keys into the ignition and turned on the engine. As they drove away Jada interlinked her fingers Guillermo's as they drove away ….
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A Year Later ...
YN had woken up that morning and felt like she needed a swim. But not in the pool in the backyard of the house, she wanted to be in the water of the ocean. She put on a simple black swimsuit and made her way out to the beach. It was still the dawn of day and the birds were chirping. She was finally at peace. After months of trying to escape the clutches of her father's rivals, she had finally arrived at the private island. There were a few locals who stayed on it to maintain the place and they had quickly become their friends.
She had become accustomed to the island life and preferred it more than anything. The only thing she didn't like was the fact that as soon she got there, her father demanded for Guillermo. He wanted him back in Mexico for another job. YN didn't want him to leave but she had no control over him because his contract was with her father and not her. They made love all day and all night before he left.
That was about seven months ago and YN missed him terribly. He would sneak phone calls to her quite frequently but it wasn't the same. She wanted to be in his presence. To feel him underneath her fingertips and to hear his voice first hand and not through a phone. Because she missed him, she started causing trouble for the personal security guards she's had since his departure. YN was on her fifth one and she didn't care for him. She would often run away from the home and disappear somewhere off the island for hours. This would cause her father to panic and she'd edge him on to fire them. None of them could match up to Guillermo so she saw no reason for them to stick around.
After her swim, the sun was now in the sky and she walked back to the house. The only people that lived there were her father, the staff and a few of the body guards. She knew that by this time, the house would be alive and buzzing with activity.
"YN!" Her father yelled from the living room as she entered through the kitchen door.
"Yes Dad?" She replied.
"Come here for a second darling."
She walked to the living room and before she could greet her father, she saw Guillermo sitting on the couch. He was leaning forward onto his knees with his fingers intertwined between them. She had to stop herself from running forward and jumping onto him.
"What's this?" She asked.
Her father sighed as he got up from his seat and approached her. "I know that on your journey here, you grew used to having Guillermo around and that it wasn't in my best interest to take him away from you when you had grown to trust him. I know you kept rebelling because you didn't like the other guards that I brought in for you. So I've asked for Guillermo to come back."
YN smiled softly. "Thank you." He kissed the side of her head.
"I'll leave you too to rekindle then. Breakfast will be in thirty minutes."
"Okay."
Once her father was out of sight and far away, Yn was quick on her feet to go to him. He embraced her into his arms and held her close. One hand was on the back of her head whilst the other secured around her waist.
"I missed you so much." She sobbed softly. His cologne engulfed her senses and it felt so good to be in his arms again. He pulled away, just enough to look into her eyes.
"I missed you too." He smiled softly which caused her to smile. "I wish I could kiss you right now." He mumbled. YN bit onto her lip as she felt the same.
"I feel the same way. We should go somewhere. I know a place."
"What time do you want to go?"
"After breakfast. I spend most of my time out of the house. Papa will know I'm with you so he won't question it much."
"That's fine with me."
YN stood on her tip toes and placed a kiss dangerously close onto the corner of his lips. Afterwards she ran away up to her room which caused him to chuckle. Guillermo truly missed her.
It was later on in the day after breakfast did YN and Guillermo leave the compound. They drove to an isolated spot far south from the house. YN directed Guillermo through the woods on a dirt road and eventually came off the road. The further they drove in, the clearer the sound of water became. Soon enough a small waterfall came into view.
"Wow." Guillermo mumbled.
"Beautiful right?" YN smiled as she looked at his awestruck face. She took off her seatbelt and opened the door. "Come on then."
Guillermo followed her action, getting out of the car and locking it behind him. He watched as she stripped down to her bikini and dived in. Her body surfaced and she pushed her hair away from her face.
"You're not going to join me?" She asked smiling whilst biting onto her bottom lip. He took off his shoes and rolled up the bottom part of his trousers. He sat on a rock on the edge of the natural pool and dipped his feet in.
"Come on. I want you in here with me." She said as she swam towards him and got in between his legs. He looked down at her. The water dripped down her chest, following the curve of her breast. He licked his lips as he smiled down at her. She placed her hands on his thighs, pushing herself up so that she was closer to his face. She pecked his lips once and then again, until it became a full blown make-out session. She placed her hands on his cheeks, loving the feel of his beard underneath her fingers.
"Come in with me." She mumbled against his lips. YN moved away from him as got up and began discarding his clothes. Once he had stripped down to his bare body, YN untied her bikini and threw it beside him. He entered the pool and pulled her close. YN wrapped her hands around his neck as he held onto her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist. She placed her forehead on his as her hands played with his hair.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
"I don't want you to ever leave me." She mumbled as she looked into his light green eyes.
"I won't." His hand came to her upper torso as he steadied her for him to enter into her. YN gasped as she tightened her hold onto him. Her head fell onto his shoulder as she adjusted to his size and began to slowly move on him.
"I love you so much." He whispered. YN took his face into her hands and kissed him lovingly. Their lips moved against each other, moulding together perfectly. Nothing compared to how she made him feel .....
On their way back onto the compound, they could see commotion. People were frantically running around
"What's going on?" YN questioned, her voice coming out softly.
Before anything else could be said, someone came running towards them. Guillermo slowed down the car and rolled his window down.
“Sir! We've been ambushed!”
“By who?”
“I don't know but they've taken the house!”
A fun shot rang out and blood splashed onto Guillermo's face causing YN to scream at the unexpected event. The man fell onto the ground as blood came oozing out of his mouth. Without further thought, Guillermo put the Jeep into reverse.
"Baby." YN voiced worriedly as he drove off the main road that led to the compound.
"Everything is going to be okay. I got-." Halfway through his sentence, the side of the Jeep was struck on his side. The vehicle spun off the road and came to a crashing stop in the bushes. Guillermo has taken most of the impact. His head was slumped over the steering wheel as blood trickled down his face. YN sobbed as she took off her seatbelt and moved to check on him.
"Guillermo can you hear me?" She asked as she felt for his pulse. He groaned in response which meant that he was still coherent.
"I'm going to try and get you out okay?" She announced. As she reached over to unplug his seatbelt, her passenger door opened. She turned to face who the person was that had opened the door. For a second, she had thought someone had come to help. But that all changed when they harshly grabbed her and began to roughly pull her out of the car.
"NO! LET GO!" She screamed as she held onto the handle above the door and tried to kick the stranger. But he was too strong and because of the crash, she was quite weak. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed and continued to scream.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? PLEASE!"
"GUILLERMO!" She cried for him as they dragged her out of the car.
Guillermo could hear her pleading screams and agonising cries. He tried to move but he couldn't. His eyes opened but things were blurred. He tried to call out to her but his speech came out slurred.
"YYY-NN. YN." His eyes stayed open long enough to see the mystery man throw her into the back of a van and drive away. That was all that he remembered before he gave into the pain and blacked out ....
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Guillermo was loading his shot gun as he sat in his car. It was hidden in the bushes about half a mile away from the compound where they were keeping YN. After he woke up after passing out, he found out that the remaining Estes cartel had saved him from the wreckage and they had gotten a doctor to patch him up. Even though he was told to rest, he wasn't going to lay down until YN was back by his side.
So he went looking for answers. The streets weren't speaking to him as he was being nice. But he was running out of time and patience. After catching one of the members of the rival gang running his mouth about the ambush, Guillermo was able to torture the information of where they were keeping her.
Normally he would be at ease but he was being fuelled by rage. All sorts of images of them touching and hurting YN were blocking his vision. He placed the shotgun on the passenger seat and checked his assault rifle and his pistol. His knife was strapped safely onto his leg. Once he was ready, he opened the door and made sure that all of his weapons were on him before he left his car.
Two guards were patrolling the main gate of the compound. They were sitting in front of the black iron gate on some deck chairs sharing a blunt. Their guns were on their sides.
"Look at this bitch though. Her pussy is so good. All them fat lips be hugging my dick nice." One of the guards said as he was holding his phone showing his partner a picture of one of his many companions. The partner laughed as he let out a cloud of smoke.
"Can I get with her? I'm tryna see if your words hold weight."
"Ahaha! Of course you can man." He took the blunt from his partner and as he was putting his phone away, he caught sight of a figure walking towards them.
The first guard frowned. "Who the fuck is that?" He asked as he sat up straight with his eyes focused on the walking figure. The second guard followed the sight of his friend and saw the man.
"I don't know. We weren't expecting any visitors today." He said as he stood up and picked up his gun ready to shoot. It was pointed towards the figure.
"Hey!" Then the second guard shouted as he kept his gun up. "Hey! You're not allowed here!"
When they saw that the man wasn't slowing down, the first guard scrambled to his feet, grabbing his gun. But it was too late for any type of action from the men. A rocket was now flying towards them. Before they felt the impact of the rocket head, they screamed loudly. It was inevitable. The rocketed came into contact with the iron gate and exploded.
As the rocket exploded after making contact with the gate, he threw the rocket launcher onto the floor and he took his HK416 into his hands and began to survey the area through the eyepiece as he jumped over the burning bodies. Once he saw that the coast was clear, he walked through the courtyard and bust open through the front door.
YN could hear the commotion in the house. After the explosion echoed through the house she knew something was going down. She hoped that it was Guillermo coming for her but they were in the midst of the drug wars, it could be anyone from the rival gangs attacking the compound.
Her hands were tied behind her back and her mouth was duct taped so that she couldn't make any noise and bring attention to herself. As gunshots rang through the air, YN thought about how she could escape the predicament that she was in.
For the past three days, she had been weak because of the accident prior to being held captive. Now that her energy had been restored, she was able to see and think clearly. Her eyes darted around the room to look anything sharp that she could use to cut the ropes. And to her luck she found shards of broken glass on the floor just below the boarded up window.
"Bingo." She mumbled to herself as she sat up on the mattress. She got up and walked to the window. She then got down onto her knees and picked up the biggest and thickest piece that she could find. Using it as a knife, using the technique that Guillermo had taught her, she cut herself out of the ropes.
.
In the foyer of the mansion, Guillermo was going through the gang members like a warm knife cutting through butter. Whilst he had one man in a chokehold, he was fighting another who was trying to fight him with a knife. As the man swiped for his face, Guillermo ducked down and punched the man in the stomach. As he doubled down, Guillermo took his pistol from his side and shot him in the head. He then shot the man that was in his arms twice in the chest and let him fall to the ground.
As he was about to walk up the stairs, he felt a bullet hit his chest. His body fell to the floor and he groaned as he felt the pain of the bullet through his bulletproof vest. He turned his body so that he could see the feet of his shooter. He shot at his knees. The man screamed as he fell to the floor. Guillermo shot him through the forehead. He rolled around the corner as he took the bullet off from the vest. He took some deep calming breaths as he loaded his gun and took an assault rifle from a deceased body on the floor. He checked the magazine and saw that it was still quite full.
He could hear the shouting of the men as they looked for him. He heard them going up the stairs which was perfect for him. He quickly got up to his feet and ran behind them and began shooting. The bodies all fell to the floor but Guillermo was still on high alert so as he began to yell for YN, his gun was still high up in position as he looked around making sure that no one was coming for him.
"YN!" She heard her name being yelled. It took her a moment to register his voice. She sat up from her mattress and ran to the door and began to bang on it.
"Guillermo! Baby I'm in here." She screamed as she made as much noise as she could to draw attention to herself. She could hear his footsteps getting faster and louder.
"YN?" She heard his voice on the other side of the door.
"I'm in here. I can't get out." She said.
"There's a padlock on the door. Step back a bit, I'm going to shoot at it."
"Okay." She took a few steps back and she covered her ears as she heard the fast rounds of bullets hit the door. Soon after she heard him kick the door open. Without waiting, she ran and jumped into his arms and captured his lips. He groaned softly as he wrapped his hands around her torso and held her close. He pulled away and laid his forehead on hers looking down into her eyes.
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He asked as he placed his hands onto her face and looked for any type of bruising.
"I'm okay. They didn't do anything to me either than tie me up and put me in this room." She replied. "What about you?" YN asked as she noticed a black eye forming and that he was wincing a little bit.
"Don't worry about me." He gave her a small smile. "Let's get out of here." With that, he handed her his pistol and then took her hand into his.
As they made their way out, they scouted the rooms making sure that there was no one left. Guillermo walked into the kitchen and turned the gas stove on. Once they were outside and at a safe distance, Guillermo looked through the eyepiece to see his target of the stove through the window. He pulled the trigger and moments later, the house exploded.
They walked to the hidden spot where his truck was.
"How long did it take you to find me?" She asked him as they stood outside.
"Not long. It was just the journey that took long." He replied. He tucked her hair behind her ear. She truly wasn't harmed and that gave him so much relief. Just looking at her face he knew how much he loved this young woman. He didn't want to tell her but he had to. "I need to tell you something."
"What?" YN frowned slightly as her back straightened up in alertness.
"They got to your father." He said. There was no mincing of his words. From the beginning they had wanted her father. Even if they didn't get to him, they were going to get to him through her.
"What?" YN stumbled as tears began to cloud her vision.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered as he held her close.
"How?"
"Don't ask me to tell you.” He mumbled. YN buried her head into his chest as she cried for her father. He held her tight as her sobs vibrated through his chest. He wanted to take her pain away but this was something that she had to feel for her to heal. There was no way that he was going to tell her the gruesome details of what the gang did to her father. The details would scar her for life and he was not about to give her that trauma.
As she calmed down, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. She turned her head to the side whilst she was laying on his chest.
YN knew about the life that she was in but it didn't make it hurt any less. Her father had taken her in and loved her unconditionally. He loved all of his children equally and she never felt like he was neglectful. Even though he was ruthless in his business when it came to his family Rafael kept that personality in a box. The pain she felt of losing her father turned into anger.
"I'm going to kill them." She mumbled as she sniffed. "I'm going to kill them all."
Guillermo took her words in. He could hear the conviction in her voice. She meant what she said.
"And we will." he replied. He pulled away from their embrace and looked into her eyes. "I promise we will."
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qqueenofhades ¡ 3 years ago
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Did Ivan and Fedyor ever have, like, one of those big first fights where there is this uncertainty of "are we over now?" ? I mean, they would be alright in the end, but between Fedyor's overthinking and Ivan probably not having a lot of experience with relationships, there would be room for them worrying for a time after it.
Sequel to this and prequel to this. Set, as usual, in Phantom!Verse.
Moscow, 2013
June 30, 2013, is not a good day. In fact, it might be the worst of all the days of Fedyor Kaminsky’s life to date, and it is made absolutely no better by the fact that he’s long known it was coming – he just hoped, however vainly, that it wouldn’t. Three weeks ago, on June eleventh, the Duma unanimously passed the law formally entitled “For the Purpose of Protecting Children from Information Advocating For a Denial of Traditional Family Values,” with only one abstention and no dissenting votes, and President Putin is going to ceremoniously sign it into law today. It’s more pithily known as the “anti-gay law,” and it basically prohibits anything related to acknowledging that homosexuals exist in Russia. Fedyor has been anxiously following its progress with his activist friends in their group chats, all of them praying for some last-minute miracle to swoop in and knock it off course. Now that’s not going to happen. He has no idea what is going to happen, but to say the least, it won’t be good. He’s taken some body blows before, but this one sucks.
Fedyor vacillates wildly between wanting to watch the signing ceremony just to scream obscenities at it, and wanting to hide under the covers with the pillows over his head and cry. He texts frenetically with his friend Lyosha, who lost his position at Perm State University a few months ago for daring to do research about LGBTQ people, and is already planning to head into exile abroad. Does he have to do that too? Fedyor has lived in Russia his entire life, even if he has traveled internationally and has lots of foreign friends. He could stay. He could try to fight this thing somehow. He could do more. He should do more.
But how?
When Ivan gets home from work at six o’clock that night, that’s where he finds Fedyor: sitting on the living room floor under a quilt and neurotically eating chocolate biscuits, texting and crying. He drops his backpack and rushes over. “Fedya? Fedya! What’s wrong?”
“He signed it,” Fedyor says flatly. No more elaboration is necessary. “So now we’re fucked.”
Ivan looks troubled. He rocks back on his heels next to Fedyor and searches for the words. Then he says, clearly trying to be helpful, “Maybe not. Nobody has to know about us. If we just keep on like before, go about our daily lives, it will be all right. We are not important people. Why would they bother with us?”
“What?” Fedyor wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and lurches upright, shedding the quilt and a shower of cookie crumbs. “What are you talking about? Just – deny ourselves and go back in the closet and pretend we’re not here, that those assholes won? Go out, but make sure I never hold your hand walking down the street or dare to pretend that we are together? I don’t want to be afraid every second we’re out in public, Vanya! I don’t want to be wondering if maybe they’ll look at my emails or cook up some other reason to come after us! Lyosha already got fired before this even officially passed, and – ”
“Lyosha was a radical beforehand,” Ivan says dismissively. “It wasn’t because of this, I’m sure. So what? He’ll get a fancy position somewhere else. The West will love to take in the gay Russian, persecuted by the barbaric Putin regime, to show off how humane and enlightened they think they are. He will be fine.”
Fedyor looks at him as if he has two heads. “That’s how you’re reacting to this?”
“What am I supposed to do about it?” Ivan shrugs. “We have to make the best. What else are we going to do? Leave Russia?”
“Maybe we have to. What other choice do we have?”
“Stay?” Now it’s Ivan’s turn to sound like he’s talking nonsense. “Russia is our home!”
“Look, Vanya. I know you and I think differently about things, and we’ve gotten used to that. But I can’t – I physically cannot – stay in a place where I am criminalized for existing, for loving you, for being afraid that something will happen to us. We have to go.”
“No.” Ivan’s voice is colder than Fedyor has ever heard it. He sounds like a stranger. “No, we don’t. That’s crazy talk. Where would we go? America?”
“At least America doesn’t have this law!”
“America has no law that is helpful for us!” Ivan shouts. “And I’m not going there. The end! You make that choice, Fedya. Exile, or me?”
There’s a horrible silence in the wake of that pronouncement, as they stare at each other and Ivan instantly looks like he wants to bite it back, but it’s too late. Fedyor turns on his heel and marches away in frozen silence, refusing to utter a single word to Ivan for the rest of the night, even as Ivan tries to apologize and coax him into speaking again. Finally, taking the hint, he takes his things and silently goes to sleep on the couch, and Fedyor lies in their bed, staring at the ceiling and tossing and turning. Ivan didn’t mean that, right? Or maybe he did? Flee Russia, start a new life somewhere across the sea, but leave his boyfriend behind? Until recently, he thought Ivan Sakharov was the love of his life. Maybe he isn’t. Or even more terrifyingly, he is, and Fedyor will have to give him up anyway.
The rest of the week is just as bad. Ivan leaves early for work and keeps to himself when he gets home, while Fedyor starts Googling the U.S. asylum-claim process and reaching out to North American-based friends who can help with logistics. He spends hours on the computer, takes reams of notes, and doesn’t feel any better. Is he planning this for them or for him? He needs to answer that question like, now, and yet the prospect fills him with sickening dread. He cries himself to sleep with the bedroom door shut, and hears awkward shuffling in the corridor outside, like Ivan is listening and desperately wants to come in, but doesn’t think Fedyor wants him there. That’s even worse.
Finally, on Saturday night, Fedyor decides that they can’t go on like this. He drags himself out of his cave of blankets and cooks a nice supper, while Ivan goes for his usual afternoon workout at the gym, and when he comes back, he blinks. “Fedya? What’s this about?”
“We need…” Fedyor’s throat is a desert. “We need to talk about us.”
Those six little words are usually the kiss of death in any relationship, and he has no idea what’s about to happen next, but Ivan’s face wrenches in half like a torn piece of paper. He opens his mouth, shuts it, shakes his head furiously, and comes to a sudden and unassailable decision. With that, still in his gym clothes, he drops his bag and goes to one knee on the creaky wooden floor of their kitchen, in this humble sixth-floor Moscow flat that is the first place Fedyor ever knew pure and perfect happiness. “Okay,” he says. “How is this for a start. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, will you marry me?”
Fedyor stares at him, utterly blankly, seized with the horrible fear that Ivan is making fun of him. “Have you – are you – are you serious?”
“Yes.” Ivan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. “I wanted to do this in a different way, but maybe this is better. Fedya, I don’t – I can’t – I don’t want to live without you. I’ll even move to America if you want to. I’m no good without you. I can’t. Please.”
Fedyor continues to stare at him. Then finally he moves closer, as Ivan holds out the ring with a look of utter, silent entreaty, his heart wrung out and raw in his eyes. “Are you – ” Fedyor’s voice is a whisper. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Ivan says again, strong and steady. “More than I have ever been about anything.”
Fedyor starts to answer, and simply can’t. He starts to shake from head to toe, and Ivan scoots forward, still on his knees, and wraps both arms around Fedyor’s waist, burying his face in Fedyor’s stomach. Fedyor clutches hold of him and sinks down, the two of them barely making a sound. Finally, he whispers, “You hate America.”
“I don’t,” Ivan says. “Not really. But either way, I love you, Fedya. And I’m choosing that.”
Fedyor grips Ivan’s face in his hands and kisses him thoroughly, then remembers that he still technically hasn’t accepted his proposal, and he should do that. He holds out his right hand so Ivan can slip on the plain band, with the promise to buy him a nicer one once they get to wherever they’re going. He’ll help with arrangements, he promises. Whatever Fedyor needs him to do.
They board an Aeroflot flight, Moscow Sheremetyevo–New York JFK, on the evening of August 3, 2013, with all their worldly belongings either in the cargo hold or waiting to be shipped over by Fedyor’s parents. They hold hands in the terminal, unobtrusively, and when they get on the plane. And even as the jet engines roar into takeoff and the lights of his homeland fall away into the clouds for what might be the last time in who knows how long, Fedyor Kaminsky can’t help but feeling, once again, ready to start anew.
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star-spangledstud ¡ 4 years ago
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MIND GAMES - THREE
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: The team goes on a mission. You meet someone who might expose you. 
Warnings: angst, mentions of violence 
Note: Wanna be tagged in future chapters? Shoot me a message :) Sorry for being MIA for so long. I’ve been sad. Blegh. 
SERIES MASTERLIST.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER.
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Over the few days that follow, you become increasingly paranoid. It’s your own fault, because you shouldn’t have lied to the people that have welcomed you into their homes with open arms, but lying is a survival skill that you were taught many years ago, and old habits die hard. You become shadowy, avoid team members in the hallways and common areas of the penthouse floor you all share, and stay in your room as much as possible without alarming anyone. Of course Natasha knows something is up, but Steve doesn’t, and he waves off her concern as you simply ‘needing more time to adjust, Nat’. You watch their body language during breakfast – one of two meals a day you simply cannot get out of without causing anyone’s alarm bells to start ringing – and engage in light conversation wherever possible to keep them out of your hair.
Guilt gnaws at your insides when you find yourself wandering the deserted wrap-around balcony at nearly 3 a.m., brain searching for a clue to any bad things that might happen. If any one of them figures out you’re ex-hydra you’re done for, that much you know, but the man with golden hair and twinkling azure eyes might just be your ticket to safety.
The thought alone sickens you, because you vowed never to mess with someone’s feelings to get what you need ever again. It’s a twisted thought, but the vines of its root wrap themselves around the stem of your brain nonetheless.
A month after first moving in, you’ve already figured out their routines. Steve’s the early riser of the bunch, getting up every morning at 6:30 a..m. sharp to go on a run around the city. On rare occasions, he manages to convince Sam to come along with him, but more often than not, he remains in his bed until at least 10 o’clock, when Steve’s already come back to shower and get dressed for the day. Tony and Bruce are in the lab 24/7, both of them constantly bickering about artificial intelligence and microbiology among other matters you can’t even begin to understand. As a result, you don’t see them around too often, a notion you don’t particularly mind. Clint left to be with his family two weeks ago and hasn’t been back since, and Natasha leaves all the time, sometimes for days at a time. You don’t dare to ask anyone where she goes when she disappears, but nobody seems surprised to find her seat at the dining table empty again.
It’s a gloomy day when you wake up to find the entire place void of all life. Not even Steve, who’s adamant about his morning coffee, is there to grace you with his presence when you walk into the kitchen that Saturday morning. The counter is clean, no empty coffee cups, half-eaten bowls of oatmeal or bread crumbs to indicate anyone’s eaten yet, and all of the chairs are still perfectly lined against the table.
Your pulse involuntarily quickens to an uncomfortable pace, and you bite the inside of your cheek until the metallic taste of blood is heavy on your tongue. With quick steps, you walk towards the common room, footsteps loud in your ears when you consider where they might be. As expected, there’s nobody there. The TV is switched off, there are no dents in the heavy fabric of the couch from where Steve usually sits, and again, no empty cups or bowls can be found on the coffee table. You have the jitters when you finally get to the library, which is again void of all life.
Black socks covered in small holes squeak across the wooden floors when you walk around the room. It’s not surprising to see the library vacant. You’re sure Avengers have more pressing matters to tend to than reading books on any given day, but it was your last hope nonetheless. With your head tilted to the side, you focus on scanning the titles that line the walls. You follow every shelf in the room until your eye finally catches something. You take the book with a sigh, flip through its tattered pages, and wonder for a moment which one of the Avengers has read the crap out of Pride and Prejudice. Definitely not Sam, judging by his internal monologue. That guy doesn’t appear to have an ounce of romanticism inside him.  
 “They’re out,” a gentle voice suddenly says behind you, “Steve didn’t want to wake you up this morning to tell you.”
You slap your hand over your heart in surprise, and inhale sharply, “Jesus Christ, doc. You scared the hell out of me.”
Bruce throws his hands up in the air and shrugs his shoulders, “Sorry, it’s just me.”
“Are they on a mission?” you ask, feeling your heart jump in your chest like a skippy ball.
“Yeah, they should be back in a few days. Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You swallow thickly, noticing all of a sudden how your mouth is dry like sandpaper, “you just spooked me, that’s all. What kind of mission is it?”
“Intel gathering, in an out. That’s why I didn’t come. They only bring me when they need the green guy,” he says.
“Oh yeah,” you reply slowly, “how’s he holding up?”
“Asleep,” Bruce smiles, then clears his throat, “for now, anyway. Would you like to get some breakfast?”
You follow Bruce through the rain, which started to gust from the grey sky just as you were getting dressed. You’d rather have said no, but you knew you couldn’t; it wouldn’t be polite to decline his offer. Besides, he’s oblivious, and for whatever reason, he trusts you. When he bites into his chocolate croissant, you know why – Steve’s let you in. This notion once more confirms the thoughts that have been occupying your mind for the last week; Steve is your one-way ticket to inclusivity.
You shudder at the thought and fake a smile before taking a large sip of coffee. The cafe is small, mostly empty, and your seat by the window gives you a perfect view of pedestrians struggling in the howling, icy wind. One year ago, you could never have imagined yourself sitting in a café with a cup of coffee clutched between your fingers, chatting with someone who you could potentially call a friend. The idea alone of being able to enjoy a warm mug filled with freshly brewed coffee would’ve sounded preposterous to you.
There was no warmth with HYDRA. Only cold.
It takes the team three days to return from their mission. Three long days, during which you spend most of your time with Bruce in his lab, perched on a desk-chair with a book in your hands while he works on – actually, you have no idea what he’s working on. You quickly grow to become fond of him, because he doesn’t feel the need to constantly fill the silence between you with empty words. His thoughts are coherent, focused on his project, and the lingo is too advanced for you to understand, which makes it easy to drown out. His inner monologue is quiet, except for a few angry words from the Hulk when Bruce becomes frustrated with his work, but that only happened on day two, and only for ten minutes.
Steve smells like gun powder and sweat when he hugs you softly against his chest after exiting the Quinjet. Natasha waves at you, and the smile that dons her dirt-caked face surprises you, but you return it nonetheless. Sam even ruffles your hair, causes a sound to escape your throat that you haven’t heard yourself make in over a decade; a strange combination of a snort and a chuckle that sounds like music to your own ears. Your heart pounds again, but in a good way this time, because for a small moment in time, you’ve managed to put the guilt on the back-burner. The roaring engine behind you falls silent at last, and nobody else visibly exits the plane before you make it inside.  
“You held up okay?” Steve asks as he follows you back inside the building.
You nod in response and shove your hands deep inside the pockets of your hoodie, “I’ve been helping Bruce with his research.”
“Oh, did you? How’s it coming?” he asks.
His eyes sparkle like two tiny stars even through the exhaustion that nearly forces them shut every time he blinks. He’s exhausted, you can tell, and you have to bite your tongue before you make a comment about the state he’s in.
“I mostly sat there while he did all the thinking. Turns out computer science isn’t really my thing after all.”
Steve fights a yawn that threatens to overcome him, and nods, “yeah, I feel you. I can barely get the damn things to start. I’ve given up on technology.”
He turns back to face you when he’s come to a halt in front of his room.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you where I went,” he tells you, meaning it as he says it, “we kinda left in a hurry, and you were still sleeping.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “I understand.”
He quickly retreats after that, leaving you once again with nothing to do. You go back to your room to grab the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice from your nightstand and, after plopping down on your bed, flip to the page where you last left off. You read for a while, before the idea to make some tea with warm milk and honey pops into your head, and you skip along the hallway to the kitchen with the book securely wrapped in your arms.
You’re surprised to hear Steve’s voice when you enter the common area, and a smile appears on his face the second his eyes fall on you. You raise one arm to wave at him, but a loud gasp and a large thud followed by the sound of breaking glass have you freezing on the spot before you can open your mouth to greet him at all.
Your head snaps towards the source of the sound, causing your neck to twist and crack painfully. Red, glowing eyes meet your large ones when you dare to look up at whoever made the noise, and the book in your hands falls to the ground with a loud bang that startles everyone in the room. You stumble backwards when you can feel the woman standing before you deep inside of your head, and you nearly trip over the rug when you instinctly try to get away from her. Frantically, you scramble to stop her from seeing more than she’s already seen. Still, by the time you manage to build up a mental barrier to keep her out of your head, it’s already too late.
You haven’t seen her before, and you can’t remember for the life of you if the image of her has popped up in any of the Avengers’ heads. Your brain is mushy, images hazy as you try to focus on keeping the woman from digging around deeper. You can see distant memories of your time with HYDRA flash before her eyes, and the images blur with the present in a spasm that makes your eyes water.
Wanda Maximoff lets out a shrill, piercing shriek, one that chills everyone to the bone. Thor, who you didn’t even know was there, is by her side before she can collapse onto the cold, hard floor, and Steve jumps up from his chair before you have time to register his movements. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen, fingers digging painfully in your tender flesh when he pulls you away from the scene. Sympathy fills Sam’s dark brown eyes when you turn back around to look at him, and guilt roils in your stomach when the redhead sinks to her knees with tears streaming down her face.
Your arms hang limply to your side when you watch Steve pace back and forth around his room. You’re waiting for him to yell at you, to tell you to get the fuck out of the compound and never return, but he remains awfully quiet. His silence confuses and unnerves you simultaneously.
His eyes, swimming with unimaginable depth, find your face while the scent of his cologne and pure testosterone invades your nostrils. Pressure clamps down on your chest, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to shiver. Never in your entire life have you wanted to read someone’s mind more. 
“Are you alright?” your head cocks to the side, mouth twitching while you try to find words. 
You nearly gave that woman an aneurysm, and he’s asking you if you’re okay?
“Yes,” you stammer, “I’m so sorry.” 
“Wanda is telepathic,” Steve says, “she has trouble controlling what she sees sometimes.” 
“Like I said, I’m so so-” 
A soft exhale leaves your lips when Steve’s hands find their way to your shoulders, and your voice dies down in your throat when he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. Calloused fingertips penetrate the thin material of your t-shirt, and the warmth of his hands creates a buzzing sensation just beneath your skin. 
“She was in Europe, scouting the location of the mission with Rhodey. She’s been in Eastern Europe for a while, that’s why you haven’t seen her. I should’ve told you about her.”
“Will she be okay?” you ask. You hardly recognize your own voice. 
“Sam’s got her. She’s stronger than she looks. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.” 
You don’t know how to respond. You crave a cigarette all of a sudden, even though you don’t smoke. Alcohol then, maybe, to numb down the prickling sensation of firing synapses and goosebumps that line your bare arms. Yeah, a good couple of shots of whiskey will do the trick. Not vodka though, you hate that stuff. 
You bite your bow-shaped lips and inhale deeply. Steve is so close that you can feel his breath fanning across your face. It’s wrong, being so near him after what just happened. You’re on thin ice. It won’t be long before the entire team, undoubtedly informed by what Wanda just saw, comes barging into Steve’s room, ready to drag you away to prison or worse, put a bullet through your skull. You deserve it, you think, for what you used to do. For who you used to be. You almost want somebody to call you out on your shit, because then at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. 
But seconds turn into minutes, and nobody comes. It’s quiet, except for the sound of Steve’s breathing and the steady beating of his heart, and you realize when he looks at you with sympathy and sincerity that you hate yourself for lying. It’s an ironic realization, because lying is like second nature to you. HYDRA spent so much time ingraining it into your brain that it’s become almost like a second language, a means of communication that flows so naturally that you don’t even have an accent anymore. It’s brought you many things, and ruined even more people.
Your hands are going numb from how hard you’re clenching them into fists. Steve’s thumbs are rubbing small circles on your shoulders, and it takes all of your effort not to shake them off. You’re disgusted with yourself, bile threatening to rise to the back of your throat while the sensation of his warm fingers on you is the only thing left for you to feel. The world is dark and cold, but the heat radiating from Steve’s hands is just enough to stop you from getting frostbite. The concern is evident on his face, from the deep crease between his brows to the thin line of his lips; he’s worried about you, someone he doesn’t even know. Someone he would kill if he’d met you under any other circumstances.
You want to go home, you think to yourself, but as soon as the thought appears do you smack it down with your fist. You don’t have a home, you scold yourself, just like the doctors would tell you when you cried and screamed on the dingey operating table in the early days, when they didn’t control you yet. When they still wore their special masks to stop you from controlling their minds so they could freely fuck with yours.
It’s an icy reality, one that rattles you to your core every time it makes an appearance. Steve’s eyes are still scanning your face, which is twisted and contorted into a painful scowl before you even realize what’s happening.
An inexplicable panic washes over you, heart jackhammering in your chest while your cheeks turn a sickly shade of pink. A bead of sweat rolls down your back, followed by cold shivers that envelop your skin in ice. The scent of laundry detergent and cologne hits you like a truck, and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from gagging.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice melting and morphing into the sound of rain slamming against the window like gunfire.
“My head,” you cry out in a desperate whimper, “it hurts.”
Steve forces your body down onto his bed, and while you begin to writhe in pain that causes white spots to dance in front of your eyes, he closes the curtains to keep the light from coming in. His mother had head aches all the time, and she’d be in bed for days on end if they got bad enough. He remembers her clear as day, lying in bed with an empty bucket next to her on the floor in the dark, because the light hurt so bad it would make her vomit sometimes. He’d tiptoe around the house because the sound of his feet creaking across the floorboards would pain her. He recognizes her in you, lying on his bed with your hands clutching the sides of your head.
“I’ll get you some aspirin,” he says, quieting his voice, the incident with Wanda long forgotten as instinct takes over.  
Tears blur your vision at this point, and it takes every ounce of focus that you have left to keep yourself from screaming out in pain. Aspirin won’t help, but you don’t possess the capability to tell him not to bother. You’ve experienced this type of pain before, and have endured it without medicine each time. Many times actually; while you were forced to extract information from the people taken and captured by HYDRA with whatever means necessary. This time however, it’s come as a surprise and it’s caught you completely off-guard, although you suspect Wanda’s poking and prodding has something to do with it.
With all the strength you have left, you manage to pull the covers over your head, engulfing yourself in darkness and warmth to drown out your senses. The sudden darkness is disorienting, but you welcome it with open arms. Steve opens his mouth, but shuts it, and heads for the door without uttering another word.
All you hear when Steve exits the room is the sound of your former victims crying out in despair.
NEXT CHAPTER.
TAGLIST:
@foxyjwls007​ @littlegasps​ @hurricane-abigail​ @idk123906​ @ bubblicious-trashcan @wooya1224
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eideticmemory ¡ 5 years ago
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EVER SINCE NEW YORK II | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER
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Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.
PART 2! Read Part 1 here.
Soundtrack:
Maps - Maroon 5.
Me & Ur Ghost - Blackbear.
Keep You Close - Frenship.
Word Count: 3,341.
Rating: M.
Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, substance use, a bit of angst.
Fall, Sophomore Year.
Tisch School of the Arts,
New York University.
New York City. 
“Okay, you know what?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Claire laughed from behind you, “You alright over there?”
“No,” you grumbled. You pressed down on the black frame, using all your might to make the command strip stick to the wall. Yet, when you stepped back, it would pop off of the surface, and your ballet poster was lopsided. It’d been a vicious cycle for 10 minutes. “This goddamn command strip won’t stick. What the fuck?” 
“Okay, grumpy, step away from the poster,” Claire ordered, grabbing onto your shoulders and escorting you to the center of the room. “The room looks great, [y/n], why are you so stressed?” 
“I am not stressed. I am frustrated, and those damn command strips aren’t cheap. I’m pissed.” 
“Okay, staples queen, tell you what,” she sighed. “I will go buy you a pack of command strips and personally mount the poster myself, okay?” 
You looked up at Claire, giving her a soft smile. “Did I win the roommate lottery or what?”
“Yeah, but better not say stuff like that too much. People are gonna start thinking we’re a different type of roommates.”
You laughed, and shook your head at her. 
“[y/n], what’s up?” Claire asked. “You’ve been moody as fuck ever since we moved back in for the semester. Classes haven’t even started yet and you’re moping around. What’s going on?”
Well, Claire, you thought. I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been dying to talk about it for a while. You see, I fucked my mortal enemy, and it was so good that I did it a second time. And no, I’m not talking about my cinematography professor, I’m talking about Matthew. Gubler. I fucked Matthew Gubler. Yes, I know. Hell has frozen over. Because I hated him. I hate him. I think he’s awful. Especially since he thinks it’s okay to fuck someone, ignore their existence, fuck them again, ignore their existence, and then leave them with a vague ass note? 505. 505! I’ve looked up every possible meaning of 505 that there is. The song, urban dictionary, numerology. And I can’t figure the shit out. And it doesn’t help that Matthew didn’t say a word to me over summer break. I’m just lost and confused and I know you would understand and you would know what to do. 
But it’s Matthew. 
And I can’t tell anyone. Especially you. 
“Last semester was a royal disaster,” you sighed. “I just don’t wanna overwhelm myself again. Y’know with class, and shows, and parties. I wanna do right this semester, but it’s a little stressful. So, I’m a little stressed.” 
Claire looked at you for a long time, eyebrows lowered and her eyes scanning your face. She had a gut feeling that you were lying, but didn’t wanna be a bitch. So she bit her tongue. 
“Let’s go get something to eat,” she smiled. 
Classes started that following Monday. Your first lecture was at 10 o’clock. And you woke up at 10:15. Having showered the night before, you brushed your teeth, put on your outfit and fixed your hair all in ten minutes and hiked it across campus in 4 minutes. You rushed up to the classroom door, and entered the lecture very calmly. People were scattered about in the auditorium, some towards the sides, a lot front and center. But only one person sitting in the very back row.
Matthew. 
Too occupied with explaining yourself to your professor, you didn’t notice Matthew until a few minutes after entering. You refused to make eye contact with him, nervously staring at your feet as you walked over to him. And took a seat at his side. 
“Hey.”
“Hey.” 
Those were the only words spoken for an hour and fifteen minutes. However, within 10 minutes of seeing you again, Matthew began to rub your thigh. His fingers grazed the top of your leg, slowly but surely making their way to your inner thigh. You held your breath, staring up at the professor the whole time and pretending to take notes. 
When Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit, you almost gasped. But you kept your mouth shut, stifling the sound. He smirked to himself, only glancing at you when you were too shaken up to notice. You propped up the screen of your laptop, hiding your face behind it so you could let out quiet moans. You were so sensitive, and very glad that you wore a skirt to class. 
Matthew’s fingers slid your panties to the side and made skin to skin contact with your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed you. You exhaled for a long time, swear words wanting to fly out of your mouth instead. The professor’s words drowned out a long time ago, and at this point you didn’t care. You just needed to come. 
Matthew remembered the way you liked to be touched, he had to. Because he was able to bring you to the edge so quickly, it was insane. You clenched your thighs around his wrist to signal your nearing release, and he grinned. 
You rested your head on the keyboard of your laptop, hiding from everyone as you came. Your jaw dropped, and you had to stop yourself from groaning too loudly. Matthew removed his hand from under your skirt. He sucked on the tips of his fingers, just to get the taste of you on his tongue. Then, with only 2 minutes left in class, he packed up his stuff and walked out.
You should’ve dropped the class. At the very least, sat somewhere else. But you didn’t. You stayed in that course. With Matthew. In the back row. And wore skirts every other day for a month. Some days he would repeat the action, and some days he wouldn’t. It was like he could tell how desperate you were each time. And if you were really desperate, he simply didn’t touch you. It sucked, but it kept you on your toes. 
He missed class one day, and to cope, you had a dream about him that night. You imagined him using his mouth on you, in an empty lecture hall, bending you over the desk, making you come. When you woke up, you were in a cold sweat. You couldn’t believe you were having thoughts like this about Matthew Gubler. But you were. 
You hopped out of bed, put on your slippers, and left the room to go to the vending machines. Holding a soda and some candy, you walked back to your dorm room silently. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, you turned your head down the hall to see Claire walking out of someone’s room. She noticed you and rushed up to you with a big smile. 
“Hey!” She beamed. “What are you doing up?”
“Oh, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Where you been?”
She sighed happily, “I’ve been doing adult things, [y/n], I cannot lie.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your room. “I’m in love, kid. It’s crazy.”
“You’re in love? With who?”
“Ah, that will soon be revealed, my dear [y/n].” 
That weekend, you two invited everyone to come hang out at your dorm. Someone was able to swipe some liquor, and it was a party. A handful of people, getting a little tipsy, music in the background. Claire insisted Matthew be invited, but you weren’t expecting him to show up. But of course, he did. Because he’s a nuisance. 
He laid down on Claire’s bed and she sat beside him, the two of them quickly joining the conversation at hand. You tried not to look like a kicked puppy, tried not to pout, to sulk, to watch. But inch by inch, second by second, Claire moved closer to Matthew, until by the end of the night, her head was on his chest. 
That Monday, you sat in the front of the class. 
And every class after that for the next month. 
Missing your daily release, you became cranky and nasty and moody. You didn’t mean to, but that’s how it happened. To help you get over the nagging feeling, you went out one Saturday night. A group of friends dragged you along to a dorm party in the next building over. You used it as an excuse to dress up, ignore your homework and get some fresh air. In a tight purple dress, you walked into the booming dorm. It was packed, smelled like booze and filled with heat. 
A cup of vodka in your hand, it wasn’t until about two hours in that you realized you didn’t want to party. You sat on the couch the whole time, fiddling with your hands and the hem of your dress. You’d drank an entire solo cup of alcohol by then, and you were starting to get tired. Your friends had gotten lost a long time ago, and you knew it was fruitless to look for them. So, you picked yourself up and started to head for the exit. 
“[y/n]!” 
You turned around to see a guy walking towards you. Jonathan. “Hey, John, what the hell is going on?” You asked, noticing him supporting another guy on his shoulder. His friend was a drunken, sloppy mess, and could barely stand.
“Our boy Steve here had a little too much to drink,” John replied. “I’m taking him back to his room. You going back to your place?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I am.”
“Okay, do you mind helping me with him? Please? I’ll give you a dollar.”
You laughed, shook your head and put your arm around Steve’s waist. “Ooh, a dollar! Sounds exciting.” 
It was cold, and you shivered on the way back to your dorm building. Steve only lived down the hall from you, so helping wasn’t too far out of the way for you. John used Steve’s key to let the three of you into Steve’s suite, guiding both of you to Steve’s room. 
You both worked together to lay Steve down on his mattress. You covered him with his blanket. 
“You’re a lifesaver,” John told you. “We both are actually.”
“Maybe we should start a business. We escort drunk people home for a small fee of $100.”
He laughed, “I’m in as long as you dress like that every time.”
You blushed, and ducked your head down to hide it. 
“What’s going on in here?” A voice called to you two. 
You looked up at the threshold to see Matthew standing there, looking sleepy, disheveled, shirtless, and beautiful. 
“Hey, Gube,” John greeted. “[y/n] and I were just dropping Steve off. Kid couldn’t  hold his liquor.” 
Matthew scoffed, “You could’ve left him there. Let him get dicks drawn on his face.”
“Well, aren’t you full of love?” John laughed. “No, seriously, I’ve gotta text Lindsey and let her know I’m staying in for tonight.” He padded at his pocket, followed by a loud groan, “Fuck, I left my phone at the party. Fuck me.” 
“That’s a higher power trying to tell you that you need to stay out longer,” Matthew said. 
John smirked at him, “You’re right. Wonderful insight, Gubler.”
John walked out of the door, heading for the exit, and you followed him, avoiding eye contact with Matthew. As the two of you approached the front door, you froze. John exited the suite, not noticing that he was leaving you behind. And you would’ve moved if you had the power. 
Hanging on the door of the suite was the room number: 505.
Your breath caught in your throat. 505. The room number. The room number of the suite you saw Claire leaving that day. 505.
“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, standing behind you. 
You released your breath, goosebumps crawling on your skin as you felt him get closer to you. Your heart raced, your body trembled. You had a physical response to being near this boy. It was intense. 
“I’m not doing this, Matthew,” you whispered. 
“Doing what? We’re just talking.”
You turned around to face him, suddenly very angry, “No! You know what I’m talking about! You know what I’m talking about! And it’s gone on for long enough, Matthew. I’m out!” You kept your voice quiet, but still aggressive. You turned to exit the dorm, but he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him. 
“Listen, Princess Peach,” he said.
“Fuck you—“
“Listen. I don’t know what your deal is, but I do know that I miss you—“
“You’re full of shit. You just wanna fuck.”
“That’s what I said. I miss you. I mean, for such a short person, your pussy packs a punch.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Face it,” he murmured. “You may hate me, but your pussy doesn’t.”
Your body melted into his at the sound of his voice. The feeling of his hands running down your body, landing on your thigh. “Just admit it. Or tell me to stop.” His fingers trailed under your dress, the tips grazing you through your panties. Your head rolled back at the gentle touch and he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck. 
“Cmon, shortcake, tell me to stop,” he mumbled. “Tell me to stop.” 
You responded by wrapping your hands around his throat, using all your strength to push him out the living room couch. He chuckled under his breath, stumbling back onto the cushion and pulling you into his lap. 
“Oh, you gonna choke me?” He asked, his voice coming out strained. “Okay, princess, you hate me so much? You can’t stand me?” He pushed his pants down to reveal his erection. “Fuck me like it then.” 
You crashed your lips onto his and pushed him back onto the couch, reaching down to grab his cock. You pulled your panties to the side and teased him against your core, moaning as his tip rubbed against your clit. You sank down onto his dick, feet pressed into the couch, hands holding his neck. 
He stared up at you as you fucked him — fast and careless. Swear words fell off of his lips uncontrollably, his hands pawing at your breast. Your boobs fit perfectly in his palm and he was obsessed. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, grunting into his mouth. 
“F-fuck,” he panted. “Wait, wait.” 
You leaned in and kissed him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You made sure to stay silent, giving no indication that you were experiencing so much pleasure. 
“H-hey — shit, fuck,” he groaned. “Wait.”
Matthew placed his hands on your ass, his eyes closed tight, his body tensing up as you rode him into the wall. “Oh, fuck!” He exclaimed, and lifted you off of his cock. Quickly, just in time for him to release all over his stomach. He panted, he quivered, he mumbled soft, dirty words. Whispered something about you. 
As pretty a sight as it was, you refused to sit there and stare. So, you stood up, pulled the hem of your dress down. And this time, you left. Not a word said. Nothing. 
Matthew followed you on instagram that night. You didn’t accept the request for a week, and when you did, you didn’t follow him back. He tried to add you on snapchat, but you declined it. You continued to sit far away from him in class, giving him no access. He brought you a drink at a party once and you asked for water instead. When he returned with the water, you had already left. 
He had met his match. You dominated him, successfully, fearlessly, and without even trying. He wanted more. But you liked to watch him so squirm, so you didn’t give in. 
Christmas break rolled around, and instead of focusing on the actual holiday, you and your friends planned your first spring break vacation. A group of you would head to South Beach for the week, and stay at a relative’s beach house. 
You sat on your bed, trying to map out the cost of the trip. “So it’s me, you, the four of them...Claire, are you listening to me?”
“Is this a good Christmas gift for Matthew?” 
You turned your head to her quickly, “Huh?” 
“This,” she held up the book - The Magic Encyclopedia. “You think Matthew will like it?”
“Claire,” you sighed. “What are you doing?” 
“What do you mean?”
“What are you doing simping over this boy? Buying him gifts? This isn’t you, Claire.”
“Leave me alone, [y/n], okay? We’re just friends. And he told me he bought me a gift so I got him one. Jeez, do you have to hate him so much?” She pouted, dropping the book into a gift bag. 
“Um, actually, yeah I do,” you nodded. “He’s a dick.”
A knock rang at the door, and as Claire hopped up, she pointed her finger at you, “That’s him. Do not pick a fight.”
You rolled your eyes and went back to planning. Matthew stepped into the room, carrying a bag in one hand. He used his other hand to cup Claire’s face and give her a small kiss on the cheek. “Santa Claus is here!” He exclaimed. 
“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Claire pleaded, reaching for the gift bag. 
“Wow, Claire, I’m hurt. You’re so materialistic.” He chuckled. 
“Oh, please, Gube,” she scoffed. “Give me my gift.”
“Okay,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box, wrapped into festive paper. “I got this for you, Claire,” he handed her the box. “And I even got something for your roommate here.”
You picked your head up, face ridden with confusion. Matthew licked his lips as he held the gift out to you, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself. Merry Christmas, short stack.” 
“Aw, Gube!” Claire squealed. Matthew let her tuck herself under his arm and hug him. “You’re so sweet.”
You stared at the tiny box in your hands, feeling it’s weight. “Thanks...” you whispered.
“Here, open what I got you,” Claired ordered Matthew, stepping over to her bed and grabbing the gift bag. She handed it to him with a wide smile, and giggled as he reached inside. 
“Wow!” He cheered, holding the book in his hand. “Holy shit, Claire. This is incredible, thank you!”
“I knew how much you wanted that book so I remembered to get it,” she said. “So, I hope your gift for me is as impressive.”
“It is.”
As the two of them spoke, you opened up your own gift, quietly, hiding it behind your pillow. Claire unwrapped Matthew’s gift, and squealed. “Shut up! Where did you find this film?”
“Amazon!” he replied. “That fancy camera of yours only takes a certain type of film so I wanted you to be stocked.”
You pulled the item out of the box, focused on figuring out what it was. It was cold, metallic, and shone under the light as it was revealed. 
“Oh, Gube!” Claire pulled him into a hug. “This is incredible!”
It was an antique. A silver polished miniature  ballerina, perched on a pedestal. There was a knob on the side, and when turned, the ballerina twirled. It was precious. 
You looked over at Matthew and Claire, watching as they broke out of their hug and looked at each other. “I expect a bunch of pictures when I get back,” he told her, backing out of the room. 
“And I expect a professional magician,” she winked. Yuck. Claire turned her head to you after Matthew left, grinning, “What’d he get you?” 
You quickly pushed the ballerina back in the box, shaking your head. “Socks. Mismatched socks. Very funny.” You replied. 
She giggled, “But hey, a gift! That’s growth!”
“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. 
“Matthew’s great,” She said. “You’ll get to know him better soon, since he’s coming to the beach with us.”
“He’s what?”
[PART 3.]
708 notes ¡ View notes
oftenderweapons ¡ 4 years ago
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Stress Reliever - Jimin
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Pairing: Jimin x reader (nicknamed Princess)
Wordcount: 4.3k words
Genre: smut, angst, fluff
Rating: 18+
Hello lovelies! I’m back with another Stress reliever one-shot. Today I offer you Park Jimin!!! You might be asking yourself: what happens when Lil Mochi gets angry and frustrated? Well, reader, I might have an idea...
So, trigger warnings: maybe swearing, this isn’t the heaviest smut I’ve written, but still, it’s descriptive. Switch!Jimin, (attempt of) mutual masturbation, falling asleep while... you know..., stressed!reader, BDSM and handjob, mild degradation kink, sixtynining (oral both male and female receiving), unprotected sex within an established relationship (say safe, guys!), cumplay, should I put a disclaimer for subby Jimin? 
For seeing more of Jimin discussing kinks and his view on BDSM, read The Conversation - Jin and Jimin.
If you need it, here is my masterlist! 
Enjoy!
First: remove heels. 
Second: remove bra. 
Third: get into your godblessed bed and sleep until your skin feels new. 
That’s the only plan you have on Saturday night after one week of working impossible shifts from seven thirty a.m. to nine p.m., struggling to keep it together after your colleague prematurely began her maternity leave, which meant that you had to do your own work and fill in for her absence. Luckily her substitute should arrive by Wednesday next week, helping you with the incredible amount of paperwork that needed to be checked by the first week of every month. 
You leaned against the door, your fingers too weak to even digit your passcode. Forehead pressed against the door jamb, you waited for the telltale dling and the heavy sound of the lock being released. 
Off with them shoes. 
You didn’t quite check where your heels ended up. They could have impaled themselves on the wall as far as you cared. You were slightly more careful with your bag only because of the precious content: your laptop and a pile of photocopies of last month’s reviews.  
Patting the bag fondly, cooing at it as if it were your firstborn, you shed your jacket, your shoulder emitting an alarming creaking noise. 
“You’re home.”
Jimin’s voice called from the living room.
“I’m so sorry baby, I told you about my colleague.” You were deeply sorry for Jimin, he had been an angel all week long, helping you with the housekeeping, sending you food, making sure that the assistant of your team took special care of you. He had sent you coffee on monday night, when you told him you would be out late. He had gifted you and your team energising packages on Tuesday, sending a small note of encouragement -- truly, an angel. Wednesday you had come home to your favourite Japanese snacks and a hot bath, his hands working at the knots on your neck as you vented about how unfortunate it was to lose the expense manager of your team exactly during budget review. Thursday he sent you flowers at work, which had you crying in the restroom for about fifteen minutes during your coffee/lunch/toilet break. And Friday night, he’d cuddled you on the sofa, pressing kisses to your head after you selfishly fell asleep five minutes into your movie night. 
All you wanted to do was reward him with the suck of his life. God, you dreamt of it with your eyes wide open, and seeing him sitting on the sofa as he uncrossed his legs made you physically ache with the need to sink to your knees, crawl between his thighs and let him take everything he wanted. 
Your overall conditions, however, made you doubt you could even remotely carry your intentions through. Your hair was a mess, your ankles were so swollen they probably looked like sausages, your hands were borderline arthritic with all the typing and your eyes were burning red after the excessive staring at your computer screen. The loud pop of your neck reminded you the sound your shoulder had emitted earlier. You didn’t even feel attractive. 
“Hey, baby.” He opened his arms, inviting you in his hold. “It’s okay. You’re home now.” You sat on his thigh and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple. “I’m here.” 
“I didn’t even finish it all, Jimin.” You felt like crying. 
“Better than not even starting at all.” He encouraged you, rubbing his hand down your spine. “I know you want to finish the report by Monday so you’ll have time to revise and correct it, but take it easy, love.” He took your chin in his fingertips. “Do it for me, buttercup.”
You snuggled closer to his chest, taking in the sweet vanilla and talc scent of his bodywash. “Are you hungry, sweetcheeks?” He asked you fondly, caressing your hair. 
You nodded tiredly on his shoulder. 
“You’ve got me, baby. Why don’t you go take a shower while I cook you some dinner?” He suggested, trying to meet your eyes, caressing your cheek like you were made of the most delicate porcelain. 
Again you nodded wordlessly. 
“How about I make you those noodles you love? And I got dumplings on my way back from that place at the corner that you love so much.”
You felt your soul leaving your body. Sooner or later you’ll put a ring on that lovely hand of his. 
“I love you,” was all you could muster in that moment, kissing his lips gingerly.
“Me too, buttercup. Now get yourself a shower. You need to shed your work skin.” He left a butterfly kiss on the tip of your nose, patting your ass to invite you up. Twenty minutes later you were sitting in the kitchen, listening to the news while you both ate silently. 
You didn’t feel like talking and Jimin didn’t feel like asking for your attention. Acts of service were pouring out of him like second nature, attentive to your every need, and you were absolutely not blind to them. What you wished you could give…
Jimin didn’t expect anything in return. He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted for it to be Wednesday, to see you walk in at six p.m., still relatively strong and responsive, and have one normal night with you. Possibly have you awake enough to ride him before you fell asleep. That’s all he wanted. 
You had the good heart to help him do the dishes, yawning every now and then, bubbles sticking to your face when you tried to cover your mouth. 
“Go to bed baby, we can watch something in our room.” Jimin nuzzled into you tenderly. 
“Wanna try and stay up with you.” You leaned into him. “I can sleep in tomorrow morning.”
“You sure?” He was happy you still tried to spend your time with him before crashing. Maybe he could treat you right.
Done with the dishes, he shared the bathroom sink with you as you both brushed your teeth, then he headed to bed, switching on his laptop and looking for something he felt like watching together. 
You climbed into bed silently, crawling cutely and settling at his side. When you noticed the laptop perched on his legs, you frowned a little. 
“Jiminie...” You whined, your voice breathy as your fingertips touched his belly, enjoying the taut skin there. 
“Princess, no. You’re tired. Don’t start something that you cannot finish.” His voice was tender and worried.
“Please. You’ve been so good to me.” You pleaded. 
“Princess, darling, you’re exhausted.” Jimin stopped your fingers in their downward path. “I don’t need you like this.”
Still you tried to move the computer away, laying half on top of him. “Tell me you don’t want me and maybe I’ll believe you.”
Your body felt heavy already, however you ground your hips against his, your hand palming him through his pajama pants.
“Lay on your back, princess, take off your panties, can you?” His tone was now authoritative, but still warm and caring.
You responded immediately, flipping on your back and lifting your hips as he helped you roll your knickers off. 
“My good girl.” He cooed, pressing himself up against your hand without insistence. At the same time he placed his palm against your pubic bone, his middle finger bending along your shape, the tip just shy of your entrance. “Nice and wet for me.” He tongued your lips almost imperceptibly trying to capture your sounds as he slipped his finger inside. “So good.”
You moaned his name on his smiling lips, pressing harder both your hips into his fingers and your palm into his crotch. “Need you, Jiminie--”
“I’m here.” He teased his way up and down yor slit, his middle finger undulating against the underside of your clit, making your hips inch forward. “Stay with me, princess, please.”
Your eyes closed gently, eyelids fluttering, muttering a soft ‘yes’ as your hand turned limp in his lap. You tried keeping up, opening your eyes wide, Jimin’s desperate little huffs and wails ended in a deep sigh as you turned unresponsive. He wasn’t even upset about it, he just hoped he could get laid. He turned around, heading to the bathroom to wash his hands, thinking whether he should finish himself, but deciding to keep all the pent-up pressure for the following morning. 
He had warned you not to start something you could not finish, and you had promptly disobeyed. He might not act on it now, but you had a lesson to learn. ‘Tomorrow’ he promised himself, and with a disappointed exhale he came back to bed, angling himself away from you, not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head. 
The following morning you woke up to the bathroom door creaking open. Jimin was freshly awake, shirtless, yawning, stilling at the foot of the bed, noticing your eyes barely open. 
“Morning, princess.” He whispered, just in case you were still asleep, not to disturb you. 
“Jiminie.” You whined, stretching on his side of the bed, grinding your hips against his spot. 
Still trying to understand what was going on, he came closer to you, kissing behind your ear. “Looking for me, princess?”
You nodded sleepily in the pillows, inhaling his soothing scent. 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, love.”
“You’re here now.” You searched for his hand, bringing it to your breast, the touch relaxing. 
“Do you wanna sleep some more, princess? It’s just nine a.m.” He refrained from touching you.
“How long did I sleep? Last night we finished dining at like, roughly ten. Then we got in bed and--” The previous evening reemerged from your memory, now feeling fully awake as you remembered how you’d been trying to occupy yourself with his crotch. 
He giggled. “You crashed at ten thirty. And yes, you were totally trying to get it on.” He stopped. “After I explicitly told you not to.” God, his voice was dead serious. 
Fuck sweet morning lovemaking, you needed him to smash you till you became one with the bedsheet. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, very quietly. 
“I was very upset, love.” Jimin recounted, licking up your neck. “And you did something after I told you not to, princess. You know what happens now.”
“I know, Jimin.” You replied, aware of the consequences. And very, very happy to be awake, even though you were only vaguely aware of what your disobedience had cost you. How he intended to make you pay. 
“Are you in for this, princess?” Jimin needed you to agree formally. Consent. Always. 
“Yes, Jimin. I want it.” You replied from below him, still pressed to the mattress. 
“Hands behind your back, princess. We don’t want you starting things you can’t finish.” He bit your neck harshly. 
“I’m sorry, sir.” You apologised, knowing that you still would pay for your mistake.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m taking care of myself this time.” He huffed, straddling your thighs, keeping the side of your face pressed against the pillow. “And you fell asleep on me.” You felt him sliding against your ass, his length tapping the skin there. “Maybe you don’t like me touching you, uh? Do you like sir touching you?”
“Yes, sir. I love it when you touch me. You know exactly what to do. How to do it. No one knows me better than you do.” You praised him, hoping to relieve your punishment a little and picking up the title he had suggested you to address him.
“Last night it didn’t look like that.” His left hand grabbed your shoulder, lifting your torso up, while his right palm slid before your lips, slipping in your mouth. “Make it wet for me.”
You started bobbing your head, lapping your tongue around his fingers, licking his palm lewdly. 
“That’s it, my dirty, naughty girl.” He pushed four fingers in your mouth, laying them flat against your tongue. “Wet my hand for my cock.” 
Your forearms stayed crossed on your upper back, even though every single cell of your body was begging you to reach for him, offer him that good suck and telling him he can cum wherever he wants, fuck your throat raw for all that you care, you just need him to stretch your cunt and give you that limb-numbing orgasm you’ve been craving all week.
In the meanwhile he took his hand away from your shoulder, using it to drag the tip of his erection against your ass. “Hope you’re feeling patient today, princess.” 
You nodded on his fingers, letting your saliva drip down on them. 
“Are those wet enough, princess?” He asked, and again you shook your head affirmatively. 
He took them from you mouth, some wetness dripping on your back. “Take off your shirt.” You tried doing so, fumbling around a little before letting it fall somewhere beside the bed. 
“I think you didn’t wet my hand properly, princess.” His voice had a growl in it that screamed nothing but bad intentions. Half a second later you felt his hand slithering between your thighs. “Let’s see if at least your cunt can wet me properly.”
He was just provoking you and you knew it. He was just looking for excuses to rile you up. Of course no, you would not point it out. That would be disrespectful. And cost you another punishment. Right in that moment you lost your train of thought, his touch heading straight for the heat of your insides. “That’s a lovely wet pussy, princess.” He leaned towards your ear. “Such a shame you’ve been keeping it from me all week.” He straightened up again. “You liking my fingers inside you, ____?”
You moaned his name in confirmation. 
“But last night you didn’t like them enough. I think they’re of better use on myself.” He snickered before exiting you and letting his weight settle on your thighs. “Wanna taste how wet I’m making you?” He teased. “Need me to remind you how wet I can make you? How good I can make it for you?”
“I know you’re the best, Jimin.” You whined. What you would give to even look at him…
“Who’s the best, baby?” He asked again, his hand starting to move on his hard girth. 
“You are, sir.” You cried out, pushing your ass up in hope he would brush against you. 
“Bum down, princess. This is not for you.” His voice grew breathy. “I’m so riled up love, wish you could see.” He offered. 
“Let me, sir, please.” You twisted your neck as far as it could go, spotting how his chest swayed, hips rolling, pushing his tip into his awaiting palm. He was riding it slow, you could feel it from the tempo of his muscles flexing against the back of your thighs. 
“Don’t twist your neck, princess, lay down.” he used his spare hand to push you down. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like that.” All that courtesy just to deny you some pleasure. “I’ve never wanted you so much, love. I’m so turned on.” He bent down, pressing his mouth against your neck, moaning dirty and messy so close to your ear, every bit the sweet siren everyone praised him to be. “I feel so tense. It’s so thick for you.” He said, making sure that the tip of his tongue brushed against the shell of your ear in the process, then breathing out, the contrast between his hot tongue and cold breath making you shiver. 
“Let me feel it, please, please, sir, I need it.” You were ready to beg, to offer him every prayer and praise. 
“Here, baby.” He brushed his lenght where the cheeks of your ass meet. “Is it good enough to keep you awake? To make you come back home early next Wednesday?” He asked, poison in his words. 
“I’m so sorry Jimin, I’ll be so good for you, take all of it for you.”
“Do you think you deserve it?” His hand was now feverishly moving along his length, pumping and squeezing on his way up. 
“I’ll do anything.” You had no dignity left. He could have you just like that.
“Will you come back early to take my cock when all this mess at work is over?”
“Fuck work, I’ll stay home and do nothing but take your cock, Jimin, I’m sorry.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. 
“Such a liar.” He moved away from your neck, his hips now rising regularly in a trot as he moved towards his climax. “You love me only for my cock.” He spat angrily. “You’re nothing but work and sex, work and sex.” He suddenly moved away from you, forcing your legs open and sitting in the middle of them, entering you in one harsh stroke, grabbing hold of your waist and moving you in synch with his hips. 
“Jimin, god, I love you, I’m so sorry.”
“Shut up and take it, ____.” He groaned, his grip vicious, his hips ruthless. 
The stretch felt delicious, his size perfectly made for you, hitting you right where you needed. If only he were touching you there. However, you didn’t even have the time to ask, his loud growl coming right as he spilled inside you, pushing into you in three desperate thrusts. 
“That’s so good, baby, so gooood.” You felt his head fall between your shoulder blades, your mouth opened in a silent lament. 
You let yourself spill only one single tear. You deserved your punishment. You deserved feeling bad for how you had neglected him all week. He deserved to take everything he needed from you. 
Your boyfriend was still moaning and whining against your nape. “That feels so good.” He was still pulsating inside you, your inner walls so aware of every single movement, still waiting for their release. “So perfect.” You gave him a small clench, waiting for his reaction. The sweet babbling came immediately, the sound heavenly and absolutely profane. 
“Took me so well.” He caressed your hair with his clean hand, pushing your loose strands aside, exposing your blushing cheek — and the wet streak your tear had left there. 
Jimin panicked immediately. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Questions pouring out of his mouth. 
You shook your head. “Just the tension.” You pushed yourself into him, looking for support and protection. 
“How can I make it better, my love?” Jimin stroked his other hand along your side, soothing you, but also staying burrowed deep inside you. 
“I wanna feel you in my mouth. I need to suck you so bad.”
He smiled, nuzzling his nose into our hair. “That’s so selfless of you, my sweet babyface.”
He slipped out of you delicately, cupping your sex with a featherlike touch. With some complex maneuver you found each other side by side. “Lay on your back, love.” He encouraged you, leading you away from the pillows, towards the middle of the bed. “Stay still, princess. I’ve got you.” And with that he turned upside down, his knees straddling your face while his head laid against your hipbone. 
“Do you need to adjust anything? Need a pillow, want to swap places?” He asked, making sure you were comfortable.
“This it perfect, Jimin. But I need these off.” You commented, pushing at his underwear. He helped you take it off, his legs twisting, his hips dangling dangerously in front of your face. You needed patience. Finally off, you moaned: “So sexy,” and to confirm your statement you took his tip in your mouth, the colour too inviting to be resisted. All his length was a hot bubblegum pink, his blood vessels tinting his skin with a vibrant, luscious shade, the glans glistening, flushed red, delicious like a midsummer cherry. 
Jimin groaned and exhaled a shaky breath, busying himself with your clit, using the pad of his thumb to rub it and press on it, but soon he was distracted by the way his cum was dripping out of you. Swiftly his fingers collected the precious liquid and slid it back into your heat, fucking it with his knuckles deep into you. His lips started teasing the crest of your hips, the peak of your sex, the puffy labia and your inner thighs, where he delivered teethmarks and lovebites profusely, much to your joy. 
"Do you want me to make you cum?" He asked, his voice shaky for the way you were taking him deep in your mouth, his tip reaching the back of your throat quite comfortably. He loved it. From the way you pushed your hips against him he understood that was a very big, non-verbal yes. Dragging his pout against your clit, he blew cold air on your drenched skin, the sound slightly hilarious, but the whole situation didn’t make you laugh one small bit, the sensation making your toes curl. 
Letting him out of your mouth, you took a deep breath and asked him permission to use your hands. Permission accorded. You smiled for him, kissing the skin under his cock, where it met his balls, sucking it gently, making him groan so sexily you wished you had recorded the sound, your palm and fingers working all the sensitive spots you knew like the back of your hand. 
“Let me hear you, princess.” He asked, his cheek brushing the top of your thigh, looking at your cunt like he wanted to learn every small detail, staring at the strings of wetness that connected his fingers to your entrance. 
“Jimin, please let me cum.” You murmured. “I want you to make me cum with your mouth and then fuck me till I’m a mess for you.” You tried to convince him by leaving a wet kiss at his base again, teasing it between your teeth and the tip of your mouth. 
“Keep doing that. Am I hard enough for you, baby?” He asked, pushing into your palm. 
You released his skin and babbled into him. “Can’t wait to have you inside, it was torture feeling you leave earlier.”
“Tell me what to do. Need you to cum quick.” He asked, waiting for your directions, but also placing his mouth on your mound. 
“Hook your fingers,” you instructed, immediately feeling the difference, his inner stimulation pressing the nerve endings of your clit right between his fingertips inside and the flat of his tongue. “Just like that, baby, so good.”
He picked up his pace enthusiastically, encouraged by your compliments. God, he must really love being down there…
“Keep going, baby, that’s it. Get me ready to take all of you.” You murmured quietly. “Do you want me Jiminie?”
He released you with a smack of his lips, “Need you baby.” He whined before kissing your cunt. 
“Then take it home, baby boy.” You encouraged him, groping his ass and teasing his abs with your mouth. 
He moaned out appreciatively and started sucking between your labia, his fingers so harsh they felt like a punishment. Two minutes top and you were completely done, hips arching up towards him and then down, away from his devilish touch. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. I love it baby. I love you so much, Jiminie, that’s my boy. That’s my man.”
He took his mouth away, his fingers still scissoring inside you, drawing circles against your g-spot. “I love you too, princess. I need inside, ____.”
He rolled on his side and you sat up, caressing his blushing cheek, combing his damp hair back. 
“Want you to ride me, princess. Please.” He said through a pout. 
You smiled down at him, at his sweet, glistening lips, at his barely open eyes, his lithe, sinuous torso, and finally at his pink, beautiful cock. You turned around and piled the pillows, preparing him some support. “Lay on the pillows, baby.”
He smiled brightly and turned around, propping himself against the headboard. 
You turned around for him, straddling him and kissed his mouth chastely, devotedly. “You comfy, baby boy?”
“Yes, ____.” He caressed your face, cupping it and you basked in his affection. 
“Tell me what you want, Jimin.” You swayed your hips against his length.
“Make love to me, princess. I need you.” He said on your lips, keeping you close. “Please.”
“Everything you want, my baby.” You reassured him, getting him inside you. “Is it good, my love?”
He moaned as you started rocking on him. “Yes, princess.”
“Good. Can you feel how deep I’m making love to you, Jimin?”
He nodded briefly, closing his eyes.
“Do you feel loved, baby boy?” You rode him gently, keeping eye contact and parting only slightly from his mouth, your forehead on his.
He moaned, pressing up against you. 
“Do you think I’m in it only for your cock?” You teased, calling him out on his previous accusations. “Do you think I only need you for the sex?”
You brushed your nose against his. “No, miss.” He whispered. 
“I love you, Jimin. Do you love me?” You picked up your pace, now riding him in earnest. 
“You know I do. I love you so much, princess.” He confessed, his voice shaky. 
“Want me to finish this, baby boy?” You asked, one of your hands heading south, scratching down his stomach. 
“Please, I need to cum inside you.” He begged.
You snickered. “Didn’t you do that just twenty minutes ago, more or less? Can’t have enough of me, baby boy.” You provoked him. 
“Never, ____.” He looked in your eyes meaningfully. 
“Here we go, baby boy.” You kissed him once more and your hand at your crotch started teasing your abused clit, already tingling from the previous stimulation. Your inner muscles squeezing him, you felt him starting to pulse, his lovely little moans and whimpers giving you all you needed to turn your fingers to a reckless pace, falling into him, finally climaxing hard and coming apart. His arms held you closer to him, pressing your chest against his, then farther apart as his face disappeared between your breasts, kissing there, giving you everything you needed. His breathing grew irregular, your name coming from his lips like a prayer, his movements like a tide until he stilled, head dropping back, hips arching upwards, into you as he finally spilled inside. 
You bent to lick his stretched neck. “I love you, Jimin.”
“I love you too, ____.” He held you close, comfortably inside you, holding on to every precious moment with you.
112 notes ¡ View notes
lombredanslaeu ¡ 4 years ago
Text
𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒕 | l.taeyong
plot: a letter for lee taeyong - the love of your life and the tear in your heart.
genre: angst, fluff
warning: messy writing lol, explicit scene
word count: 2401
proofread: no
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Dear Lee Taeyong,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m not sure if I could ever gain the courage or the chance to say what I have to say to you. There are a lot of things I’m not sure about; one of which is how the universe crossed our paths. Was it just for the heaven’s comedy relief or was it because we were meant to find one another? I��m not sure which one I’ll believe. Nevertheless, I’m happy that day happened even if it’s cringy to look back at right now.
The university atrium was crowded with booths and students. Today was the first day of the organization recruitment week. Your brother told you about the joys of meeting new people by joining organizations that sparks your interest. So, you did not waste a second going to the busy fair.
You were currently lining up for the photography organization. To your dismay, there aren’t actually a lot of organizations that suits your interest. You enjoy taking photos and looking at them so you just opt for the photography org.
You were lost in your own world when a tap on your shoulder cut your reverie.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother,” The man said. He was taller than you, his features were smooth & pristine almost like a Disney character. He also sported a pink shade on his hair. “Can I borrow your pen? I’m really rushing to get a slot on the performing arts org.”
You looked down at the pen that placed on the small pocket of your blouse. You weren’t in a hurry but he was. Being the kind person you are, you gave it to him.
“Sure, here.” You placed the pen on his hand.
He muttered a series of “thank you”’s before scurrying off to the really busy performing arts line.
You went back to your own reverie. When you reached the front table, your hand went to the small pocket of your blouse. Your fingertips failed to feel the slim pen and you mentally groaned. Now, you were the one who’s in need of a pen. You looked back at the distant performing arts booth but failed to spot the pink-haired duded who borrowed your pen.
You never saw him again for the next two weeks; he never crossed your mind anyway. That was until a shadow towered over you while you sat in seclusion at the back of the lecture hall.
“I’m sorry for running away with your pain.” The pink-hair dude spoke above you. The vibrant hue on his head faded into a soft, bubblegum pink. That shade suits him better. “I saw you looking around for me when it was your turn to fill out the registration sheet.”
With that, he placed a new pen on your desk. It was wrapped with a small ribbon.
“I was supposed to return it to you but I saw you getting annoyed and I felt so bad.” He explained further.
You chuckled at his gesture. Sure, that event annoyed you back then but now, it just became a funny memory.
“It’s no problem.” You said. “Thank you-”
“Taeyong.” He continued.
There’s so many things to love about you, Yongie. I could list all the things I adore about you. From the way you’re always supportive of the people around you to the way your eyes shine whenever you perform in the university auditorium and you suddenly spot your friends in the crowd. I could go on and on but this letter would probably be ten pages long and I only have so much ink left in this pen. Yes, the same pen you gave me the second time we met. I never used it until today. It held so much sentimental value that if I were to merely use it on a quiz or lecture notes, I would immediately feel guilty. Actually, I retract that statement. I used it one time to fill out the application form for the first job I’m applying to. I was surprised that it still works. I would have thought that the ink has dried out already; after all, it’s been hidden somewhere on my desk until the day I went to that job interview.
You don’t have much time left. Your body clock got used to sleeping at an ungodly hour and waking up during the middle of the day. Your interview starts at 8:20 AM and it was already 7:30 AM. You thanked yourself for showering the night before as you don’t need to do much.
You hurriedly packed your necessities. You always bring a pen with you whenever you go; and with that, you grabbed a random pen sitting on your pen holder.
For some miracle, you made it before 8:20 AM. The secretary gave out a form for you to fill out. You reached for the pen inside your purse. The small jewel decoration at the top of the cap was reminiscent of the smile of the person who gave the pen to you. It was as if this was Taeyong’s way of saying good luck. Whenever you went, he was always there with you.
But as there were many things to love, there were also many things to hate. I feel like we are now in the situation where I’m finally free to talk about these things to you. To be frank with you, we had all the reasons and chances to communicate and talk about these problems. The thing is: we never did. Maybe it was because we came to the terms that we were falling apart. I don’t blame you. I, too, was scared of what would result if we ever had that conversation. To say that I don’t regret not pushing myself to fix everything would be an understatement. I regret everything, Taeyong. I regret not talking to you and making you suffer. I regret ever putting you into that light. However, I cannot help but point the blame to our situation that night. You weren’t talking either and I felt like I shouldn’t exert effort into someone who clearly does not want to fight with me. Was that how you felt that night? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It would crush me to know that it was only me who refused to accept that I was wrong.
You waited for hours. Normally, Taeyong would be the one to initiate a resolution, to seek a middle ground between the two of you. The clock was ticking towards midnight. In ten minutes, the eerie silence between the two of you would turn five hours old. The words you threw at one another bounced back and forth in your head, as if the walls of your brain were the same walls of your shared apartment.
“You never listen to what I have to say!”
“I don’t need to listen when I already saw it with my two eyes!”
“Are you hearing yourself?”
“Stop trying to make it seem like this is my fault.”
“You’re blowing this all out of proportion, of course it’s your fault!”
Before, you and Taeyong were magic. Right now, nothing was sparking aside from the raging frustration between the two of you. It’s been four years of you and him being lovers. Have you outgrown each other this quickly? Why did the fire burn out so quickly and who turned a blind eye on it?
“We’re not gonna fix anything if we just ignore each other.” You spoke. It was the morning after the fight. While you found yourself asleep on the bed, you found Taeyong asleep on the couch. You felt bad, his height is no match for the space the couch could offer. The urge to fix everything was demanding to be felt so here you are, in front of the office he works at.
“You don’t listen to me so what’s the point?” He replied, the look of impatience washing over his face.
“I didn’t come here to form another fight, Taeyong.” You said in a exasperated voice. Taeyong could right through you. You wanted to fix what happened last night. Along with that came a tinge of fear in his heart. He’s scared that your proposition in fixing everything was to take a break or worse, break up. He doesn’t want that.
“Then, you shouldn’t have came here at all.”
What would you do when your ex suddenly calls you at 3:00 AM on a Saturday asking to hold you once more? You weren’t drunk so I believed everything that you said. That was my mistake. I failed to realize that alcohol isn’t the only thing that could make you do things out of your control. Loneliness is a dangerous drug as well. I have to admit that I slept with you not because I missed you but because I was afraid I would never feel loved again. Looking back now, I definitely came back running because I love you. Not because I miss you, but because I was pathetically in love with you and I was scared I don’t know how to stop it. I was willing to swallow my pride, to swallow everything my mother taught me about loving myself because I wanted to feel you with me again.
His hands roamed around your naked torso. Taeyong’s hand were different from the other boys who have touched you before. His lips fluttering kisses all over your neck. For a moment, it felt like you were his and he was yours again; even though the current circumstances tells you otherwise. Your shirt was the first to go, followed by your bra.
You knew the implications of your actions. But all rationality seemed to evacuate from your system the minute his cock bottomed out inside of you. Each hard thrusts signifies his longing and his need to be yours again. Although he can never say these things out loud, he sure did rely them on his actions. You felt like the universe is about to explode inside of you and finally, when it cracks, you get to see a slice of heaven. Taeyong leaned down to kiss your quivering lips, his breathing as deep as his thrusts.
“I bet no one could ever fuck you like this.” He spoke above you, eyes as dark as the sins he was doing to your body.
But I’m over all of it now. I’m over being helplessly in love with you and doing nothing to stop myself from running back to you all the time. I’m done throwing myself under the fire of missing you each time our favorite song plays on shuffle. I’m done worrying about doing things we used to do together, I’m done being afraid if those things will trigger a memory of you. We had grown up over the years and so does how I feel about you. The minute I realized I don’t want to feel okay without you is the minute I realized all the mistakes that we could have easily corrected but never did.
You’re not accepting this fate. You refuse to accept a life that would be spent without Taeyong by your side. There are a lot of things you’re not sure about except for one thing - you would conquer all the odds just to make sure it was him you’re spending the rest of your life with. You just don’t know how and when to make him realize that you’re always down for him.
Him, on the other hand, was racing through traffic to get to where you are. Today was your birthday - your first birthday without him to be exact. All it took was one look at the calendar for Taeyong to realize that he shouldn’t be afraid of mending things with you. Because even if the situation gets rough, you would always be by his side. He mentally cursed himself for ever being scared of talking shit out.
But when he saw you celebrating with your friends and a smile too beautiful it could move a thousand seas, he wonders if he was too late.
Taeyong, you taught me how to be mature. You taught me how to be forgiving even if the people around me aren’t. Most importantly, you taught me how to love fully, madly, and truly. And for that, I cannot thank you enough. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that love isn’t always beautiful but it is always kind. Your love keeps no records of wrongs and I don’t think a love like that could ever exist within anyone else. Thank you for borrowing my pen during the college fair. If I could turn back time and make everything easy for us, I would. You have no idea how much I want to that. But, alas, I can’t. So for now, we just have to live with the burned pages of our past. It is up to you if you want to bury at the back of your mind or if you want to paste them all over your walls. I’m sorry for the pain I gave you - please never forget that it was the last thing I could ever want to give you.
For the love that I will always rejoice upon even in my last living hours, I sincerely thank you.
See you tomorrow at the altar.
 Yours until the sun no longer shines,
Y/N.
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cchvrrybbvmb ¡ 4 years ago
Text
|| Sweater Weather || (Pt 2)
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Bangchan x Fem!Reader (College AU)
Characters: Christopher Bang (Bangchan), Han Jisung, Seo Changbin, (3RACHA)
Synopsis: You were just starting college and to save on money, you move in with your brother and his two friends. Soon, you began to get a little crush on one of them. But there’s a problem, he has a girlfriend. A really awful one too. Not only that, but the school’s playboy has taken an interest in you.
Chapter Info/Warning: smut, fluff, angst, curse words, cheating, fighting, yelling
Word Count: 
A/N: Listen, I’m a staytiny.. so I had to. Sorry there’s not a lot going on right now, but pt 3 will make up for that.
YT Playlist
Pt 1 |Pt 2 |
“Ugh.. Shut.. Up..” You groaned as you lazily reached over to turn off your alarm. A sigh escaped you as you flopped your arm down on the bed, blinking up at the ceiling to wake yourself up. 
“Mmph...” You groaned quietly, sitting up and climbing out of bed. Dragging your feet across the floor, you made your way over to the dresser and pulled out some random pieces of fabric, hoping the outfit you tiredly put together would make sense and look good. Lazily, you got dressed and grabbed the things you needed before heading out your bedroom door. 
“Binnie..!” You called, walking down the hall and knocking on his bedroom door. “I need a ride to class...!” A groan was heard from the otherside of the door before it opened, a tired Changbin standing there. 
“Mm.. Okay.. Let me put my shoes on and we’ll go..” He grumbled, rubbing his face a bit. 
It didn’t take long before the two of you were out the apartment and pulling into the parking lot of the campus. Wow, this place was nicer than the photos. “Don’t do anything stupid, and text me when you’re classes are over.” Binnie said, waving you goodbye as you got out of the car and shut the door behind you. 
With a small, nervous sigh, you made your way into the building and made your way to the first class of the day, Music and Dance History. You took a seat in one of the few empty ones, right next to a boy with dark hair, a single silver streak in his hair. His head was propped up on his elbow, his narrow and cat-like eyes staring off at the teacher while they began their lecture. He glanced over at you while you got settled in, a small smile creeping up on his well structured face.
“You’re new here.” He said softly, his voice sounding like velvet and honey. You couldn’t lie, he was kinda hot. Damn, only your first day and you already have two men you’d like to really get to know. “I’m San. You are..?”
“Y/N.” You said simply, returning his smile with one of your own. “And yeah, I am a bit new here. You ah.. wouldn’t mind showing me around, would you? I had trouble finding this class, so I might need help finding my other two.”
“Sure. Under one condition, though.” He said, moving to lean back in his chair a bit to stretch before he turned slightly and moved a bit closer to you. “I get your number, and you come to my friend’s party Saturday.”
“That’s two conditions, but okay. Here.” You tore a piece of paper out of your journal and scribbled your number down before handing it to him. Almost immediately, he grabbed his phone off the desk and shot you a quick text. 
XXX-XXX-XXXX: hey ;)
You giggled quietly, saving his number as ‘San, the party boy’. 
The rest of your classes went by smoothly, San helping you out by showing you how to get to them and where some bathrooms were along the way. When your final class ended, you left almost immediately and waited by the end of the hall for San. 
“Hey!” He called from behind you, jogging up the hallway to stand next to you. “When do you go into work?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. 
“I go in at five, why?” You reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of your face as you rocked back and forth on your heels.
“Because, I wanna take you to work. If.. that’s okay with you.” 
“Um.. Actually, I already have a ride. My brother is picking me up. Sorry, but maybe tomorrow?” You said, watching as his face lit up. 
“Yeah! Okay! Can I.. uh, walk you to wherever you need to go now?” San asked, but instead of using your words, you just nodded and grabbed his wrist to lead him out of the building. The two of you walked together to where Changbin was waiting for you, leaning against the side of the car with his arms crossed.
“Y/N you’re finally he-... San?” Changbin seemed a bit confused as to why he was with you. He uncrossed his arms and stood upright. “What are you doing with my sister..?”
“S-Sister.. wait.. You’re her brother?” San pulled his arm away from you and looked at the two of you in confusion, then his look of confusion turned into a devious, mischievous grin. “That’s good to know. Well, see you later Y/N!” And with that, he walked towards his car and left.
Changbin was silent during the ride to your job, until he pulled into the parking lot. “Do me a favor, stay away from San. He’s not good news.”
“What do you mean? Binnie, he’s the first friend I made here. Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” You retaliated, a little annoyed that he was acting this way about San, who seemed to be a good guy to you.
“He has a reputation of sleeping around, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna eat you up then throw you out. I’m just trying to look out for you. But, if you wanna find out for yourself, go ahead.” He sighed, looking over to you. “Have a good day at work.”
After you got changed in the bathroom, you put your hat on and made your way behind the counter to meet your boss. He went over the basics of how things worked and introduced you to the other insider working there.
“This is Felix. He’s been here for a few months now and can help you out if you need any help.” With that, he left to go help a customer up front.
Felix was a little taller than you, small and freckled face. He had messy brown hair and seemed very cheerful, happy to help you make pizzas. “This is how we slap them out, it’s pretty simple.” He grabbed a medium sized dough ball from the proofer and threw it down into the little container of cornmeal. 
“Once you got it nice and coated on both sides, you pick it up and run it through this thingy like.. this” He said, watching as the dough slid through the machine. “Now it’s flat! And now we can dock it!” You followed along, watching as he took his fingers and pressed down into the edge of the dough, moving them around the entire thing. “Now you just pick it up, and slap the living shit out of it.” And he did. You sputtered as cornmeal flew into your mouth, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Jeez, that stuff really gets everywhere, huh?” You asked, laughing softly. It wasn’t long before you sort of knew what you’re doing, and it wasn’t long until it got busy.
“Ugh.. I smell so bad.” You mumbled, walking into the apartment with Changbin behind you. 
“Then shower, stinky.” Changbin teased as he set his car keys down on the counter. “I’m gonna head to bed though, you do whatever. Jisung is asleep though, so keep it down. I don’t know where Channie is.” He waved bye, then went into his room.
You decided to shower first, heading straight into the bathroom shared between you, Jisung, and Chan. You started your water, then undressed yourself before slipping into the nice, hot hot shower. This felt nice. You stayed in there for a little while before finally stepping out, wrapping a towel around your body. Since Chan apparently wasn’t home and the other two were asleep, you thought it’d be okay to just get dressed in your room.
You left the bathroom and hurried to your bedroom, slipping the towel off of your body.
“Y/N you left your-...” You froze for a moment, then glanced back at whoever was speaking. Chan. Oh god. Move. Do something. Just don’t stand there! You panicked, grabbing the towel and throwing it over yourself. 
“Chris! Close the door!” You yelled, even though you were the one who left it open. But to be fair, you didn’t realize he was actually home.
“O-Okay! Sorry Y/N! Please don’t tell your brother about this!” He quickly closed the door after setting your schoolbag down on the ground. You got dressed as quickly as possible and just climbed into the bed, deciding that going to sleep was the best option.
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jojo-reader-hell ¡ 4 years ago
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So I guess my inbox ate some requests... so if yours is missing I deeply apologize. This is for my bestest buddy who has been helping me throughout this whole thing, she loves Guido Mista a whole lot and we owe her our lives for requesting such sweet yet sad scenarios ❤️
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“I hate to break it to you, but there is no way in hell you are going to wear that when we get off the plane.”
“Huh?! Why not?”
Where do you start? It’s cotton. It’s a crop top. And he hasn’t worn it in almost three years. You waste no time in informing him of his poor choice in outerwear, only for the gunslinger to scrunch his nose and scratch his head in an almost comical fashion.
Well… Almost comical. The situation at hand was far too serious to take chances.
It’s amazing that Mista has been there for every step of the planning, paid for his share of the tickets, picked the activities he wanted to do, saw you buy the necessities you needed for the trip, yet he still did not understand that a cashmere crop top and tiger stripe designer jeans were not appropriate for two weeks in Reykjavik. He… He did understand the name of the country was ICELAND, right?? Didn’t he?? Did you really need to have this conversation with him four whole days before you set off to leave?
“Do you not read any of the warnings on the tours?!” you growled, “It’s literally 1.5 C with the potential to dip into the negatives! You cannot be wandering around like that.”
His laugh sounded both careless and filled with anxiety. Full of a challenge. You knew Mista rarely changed his wardrobe around. Mondays through Saturdays: crop top jeans boots, crop top jeans boots. Sundays he wore a suit to church. Oh... Don’t forget his hat that he insisted was hand wash only (when have you seen him hand wash it?? Never...). Well traveled folks you’d been conversing with about this exciting trip all said the same thing: anything except wool kills in Iceland. Don't leave home without thermals. Get a good waterproof coat. Wear a hat. Invest in a good pair of nonslip boots with wool socks. Mista MAYBE had two of those requirements, you didn’t know how well his designer boots would actually hold up on sidewalks that were more sheets of ice than they were concrete but evidently you were about to find out.
“Keep digging in that closet.” you commanded, tossing his clothes to the side with a flourish.
“This doesn’t work?” he asked, genuinely perplexed as he still held fast onto the shirt.
“No. Keep looking.”
Reluctantly the shirt was tossed to the side and he continued to dig in his closet.
“You know, when we step out of the airport it’s gonna be cold as shit in your crop top.” You told him.
“Psh, I doubt it’s gonna be that bad.” He scoffs, scratching the dark happy trail of curls on his stomach.
“No Mista, I’m serious. Going from the airport right to the Blue Lagoon isn’t going to be a cakewalk. You’ll be freezing after you shower all of the silica off and I want you to be bundled up. We still have to take the shuttle back home and then walk to our air bnb-…”
As if on cue, Mista shakes his head, laughing and trying to get you to lighten up as you rant and rave about the long walk to the air bnb, the fact that he’s never left Italy to go anywhere in his life, and especially the fact that Icelandic cold is a type of cold he can never imagine.
“Brrr...” he makes a big show of shivering in his piles of clothes as you throw yet another cut up cropped shirt at him. “If it’s so cold, I’m not gonna leave the room. We should just stay in... and get under the covers... maybe try to keep each other warm with our body heat-...”
“Keep talking like that and you’re gonna sleep outside.” You grumble, “Keep looking!”
Now it was coming to the dregs of the closet, the clothes that have been there the longest and have seen the light of day only a few times in their short life. It was still the same batch of tops, cropped and totally inappropriate for the occasion, and even though you stepped in to look, it seemed like you would have to make a trip to the store to buy him a couple shirts after all.
Until you pulled out a nice little number: a green button up that you’d certainly never seen before.
“Hey!” You call out to Mista. “How about this one?”
Immediately he looks up, his usual unreadable facade softens as he wanders over.
“Woah!” Mista seems starstruck, smiling wide as he lifts the shirt, “This is an old one!”
“Shame you don’t wear them anymore.” You respond, “Look! It’s perfect for layering, I bet if you put it on now you’d still have room for your thermals…”
You trail off when you see him pull out another item from his closet: a purple beanie, well worn and loved from the state of it. Mista trembles, biting a plump lower lip and rubbing the fabric between his thumb and pointer fingers.
“Baby?”
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong…?”
For a moment he looked so soulful, lost, his eyes doing that odd thing where they seemed to darken, and yet the light catches a glitter, the bitterness of tears?
“Lotta memories in this shirt.” He mumbled, so softly you almost don’t hear him.
He doesn’t need prodding, you know from years of experience that Mista will tell you in his own time, and he doesn’t hesitate for a moment before the memories come spilling out of his mouth.
You see that bloodstain there? He went to prison with that shirt the first night they arrested him. They set the bail too high to afford, Mista often times didn’t have enough for food let alone bail on murder charges. Even though he had friends of all walks of life, none of them came to help when he was sitting there heart hammering in his chest. That little rip there? An officer’s ring got caught on a loose thread when they yanked away the belongings on his person. Did they use them for circumstantial evidence or something like that? Mista didn’t know, he was never well versed in law and didn’t bother to understand it even after Buccellati got him narrowly out of that one. The stories and the pain continue rapid fire, one after the other as his face begins to contort in sadness. The happiness and excitement at the prospect of finally leaving Italy on an honest to god vacation was diminished. Instead the pain returned, and it wasn’t long until you had him cradled in your arms, kissing his cheeks and not at all minding the cactus like scrape of his stubble.
All you focused on was his sadness, his hurt, because despite his ruthless demeanor and typical goofball tendencies Guido Mista was surprisingly still broken. He never talked about anything more than a few tantalizing tidbits about his past. Everyone always assumed your lover was easy going, albeit somewhat of a slob who only played at wearing fancy clothes.
They never really understood the real man underneath his well crafted facade.
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