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YIJODM Girls Floral Maxi Dress, Flower Printed Short Sleeves Dress with Pockets Summer Long Holiday Dress
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw
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You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you.
After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake.
You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble.
Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like��you close the video.
You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand.
“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock.
“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.
“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”
He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs.
“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.”
You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.
Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”
You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back.
The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.
While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip.
It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together.
“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.
“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”
He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him.
“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.
“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”
His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area.
Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”
This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him.
Maybe you’ve got him all wrong.
The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”
It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”
“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”
It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.
“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.
His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”
Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you.
All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.
You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream.
“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”
You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you.
There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad.
He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”
You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck.
The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you.
��Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”
His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”
White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin.
The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head.
His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”
You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand.
“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”
The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue.
You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”
“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?”
You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”
#i cant believe this shit is at 10k and i still have another part to write#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap cod#soap x you#soap/reader#ikea soap
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Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin loved all their nephews and nieces I take no argument. They showed it in different ways, but there were never any malicious thoughts towards them.
Any competition they had was between each other (though Finarfin was very much youngest sibling literally cba to deal with his older brothers.)
Fëanor: Always has too much food, used to his kids bringing over their respective favourite cousin for a meal because they were out playing too late and he’s not exactly going to send a child home hungry. As they got older it was because they’d been out and this was the closest place to disappear away to and crash. He’s used to seeing various kids sprawled across the carpet in the living room, waking up with headaches and groans. He’ll never admit it, but he finds it hilarious and enjoys seeing the children happy. If his brothers ask? ‘What do you mean they were out, I’ve had your children here with me all night.’
Fingolfin: One day I’ll stop linking this post but I really like how it turned out so you get to see it again! Fingolfin happily lets them traverse his house, go through his belongings. He’s very much a partner in crime, helping them sneak around, acting as lookout. Pretending not to see a majority of sweet pasties disappear overnight. He lives closest to the busy parts of the city, so it’s not unusual for the kids to get ready at his house if they’re going out anywhere or even preparing for Court. Most of the kids have their own shared room, and they’re full to the brim of everyone’s clothes, jewellery, shoes. Essentially a whole wardrobe. It gets messy, but he loves seeing his house full of life. Even if he could do without the mess Tyeko and Iressë bring in… and the various musicals at 3am. ‘You know we never tire of having you here… but perhaps you could tone down the partying? Just a little?’ He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Finarfin: My guy ofc has his house by the sea which like Fingolfin’s, has many many rooms full to the brim with clothes and jewellery. It’s essentially a home away from home for his niece and nephews, they don’t have to pack because everything’s already there. As youngest uncle and closest in age, he’ll just so happen to tell the kids where to have fun. He had the least pressure on him growing up and knows the best places in Tirion and Alqualondë. Going to Finarfin’s is like going on holiday, he’ll back them up and make sure they can do what they want without worrying about their reputations as princes and princesses. ‘The kids are far too stressed and don’t get to come here often, brothers. Let them have their fun. I’ll take care of them.’
Bonus!
Finwë: The mastermind. The accomplice. The alibi. He has a wild side to him born in Cuivienen and honed over the Great Journey. Court life is too stuffy even for him sometimes, let alone his grandchildren. He’s the one telling them all the wild things he got up to in his youth with a wink at the end subtly telling them how to do things their parents definitely would not approve of. High King Finwë would never! High King Finwë definitely would, and he’s making sure his grandkids get the experience too. He’s the one who gets the parents to leave for weeks at a time and his grandchildren have the time of their lives. ‘My sons, you worry too much! Don’t you trust your father?’
#THEY WERE A HAPPY FAMILY ONCE OK FITE ME#not all the cousins got along ofc but they were largely kept out of the depths of the feuding#Fëanor wouldn’t have taken anger at his brothers out on their kids until Morgoth got to him#Fëanor#feanor#Fingolfin#Nolofinwë#Finarfin#Arafinwë#house of feanor#house of fingolfin#house of Finarfin#feanorians#nolofinweans#arafinweans#Maedhros#Maglor#Fingon#Turgon#Finrod#Galadriel#Finwë#house of Finwë#silmarillion#tolkien#silm headcanons#ITHOF Writes#Finwëan family dynamics
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Dillon and Kitty
Summary: You take Dick home to the farm for a breath of fresh air. It's perfect, but there's something weighing on his mind. (Dick Grayson x fem! reader)
Word Count: 3.5K
Notes: A little self indulgent, I'm homesick and got hooked listening to country again so this popped out. I loved writing country reader (but that might be the self indulgence hehe) I might make some others in the same theme. Reader wears a dress and is alluded as female, no other warnings tonight.~ Second to last post of this challenge, I didn't think I'd even get this far. Thank you for your support so far. 🥺🥺
Also for anyone wondering- the title is a reference from Gunsmoke, an old western. I got reminded of it while listening to Toby Keith and in the show Dillon and Ms. Kitty have this 'will-they-won't-they' relationship that tugged at my heart so I put a bit of that ache in there too. 🫣🫣
Enjoy Sweethearts~! xx
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You loved being out of the city. You loved being back in the sky for once, and the fact that you could walk away to a quiet spot in your house and not be bombarded with the sounds of cars and arguments on the city streets. You'd gladly trade your heels for a pair of work boots if you could, give your father another pair of hands on the farm. You could take your coffee under the big oak tree by the back porch that had seen you and your siblings break bones and scrape skin, instead of the cramped fire escape that was covered in rain more often than not.
You might have only gone back for a small holiday, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that wondered just 'what if' you did come back. You know that your mother would fuss over it happily, and your father would grumble but not protest. They had sent you away to have a better chance at life, so that you could go wherever your dream wanted to take you. You weren't sure how dream like Gotham could be, with its bleak skies, crime, and constant bustle. Your friends who still lived out by here laughed at you, but you knew that if you had never left, you never would have made your dream come true.
More accurately, you would have never met the man of your dreams, Dick Grayson.
You had both run into each other at a charity event, something you had gotten to attend through your degree in place of your professor. You felt out of place in the ballroom, filled with the rich and elite. You were no stranger to the upturned noses and lingering stares of city folk when you came in to shop with no time to change, still in your work clothes and with dust covered skin. However, being regarded like you were tracking mud across the polished floors when you were in your finest, was new. You knew these events were a big deal, everyone trying to get a ticket to the famous Bruce Wayne's extravagant gala, to taste the high life for a night.
You would be lying if you said that you hadn't been interested in the concept, the high-class events that seemed to be something out of a fairytale. No one would’ve blamed you for wanting to look inside, except the other party guests it seemed. You weren't dressed in anything racy, renting out a modest dress that matched the jewellery you had. Your roommate had done your makeup for you, and you did your hair yourself. You knew that you cleaned up nice, but it appeared that the country air clung to you still.
Socialising had become a nightmare, with people hesitant to even talk to you. The ones that did wavered in confidence when you said that you were still a student, your professors name doing little to ease their worries. You had no family name to shield you, no massive corporation at your back. You quickly realised that they weren't talking to you, because you couldn't do something for them. Even though you had no intent on working with rich assholes like them, the feeling of being useless quickly crept into the back of your mind. So much so, that you were stuck in that thought until you roughly collided with someone, and felt the barely sipped glass of champagne you cradled spill all the way down the front of your dress.
"I'm so sorry," are the first words that come out of your mouth, hands flying to the other person. You look up, hearing a soft chuckle and the blood drains from your face. Dick Grayson, the first adopted son of tonight’s host. He must recognise the panic on your face, because he laughs quietly and wraps a large palm around the crook of your elbow and pull you to the side. You expect to get scolded, but he takes you to a corner away from prying eyes and pulls out his pocket square.
"Here, use this." he says softly, smile on his lips. You take it after an apprehensive second, beginning to dry the fabric the best you can. "I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, that's completely on me." he says, eyes crinkling with worry. You shake your head in protest, swallowing hard.
"No, no, I wasn't either. Did I get your suit?"
He holds his hands up, "No, no, you're fine. Didn't get a drop on me." he smiles. "So don't worry." his eyes flit back down to the stain creeping across your front. He winces studying the wet patch. "Can I replace the dress for you?" he offers. "Get you a new one as an apology."
You shake your head violently, mind racing. He said is so casually, as if it was loose change to him.
"Oh, no. This isn't even my dress, it's a rental." you wave him off. "I'll just get it dry cleaned, and if that doesn't work, I'll just pay the fee. It's nothing for you to worry about."
His head tilts slightly to the side, strands of ebony hair tickling his forehead.
"You don't own the dress?" he asks, and your shoulders slump. You nod, expecting him to turn up his nose. The wealth in this single room made your head spin, and you watched his face. he was going to shrug you off and take his pocket square back, re-emerge into the sea of glittering people with silk lined pockets.
"It looks like it was made for you."
That makes your eyes widen and your cheeks burn with heat. He lets a pearly grin slip forward, making little lights dance in his eyes mischievously.
"Thank you." you stutter out, hands smoothing down the fabric.
"At least give me your details," he persists. "I'll pay for the dry cleaner and the fee if it comes to that. It was my fault, don't worry."
You smile hesitantly, mind wandering. Was he going to hold this over your head? Make you pay him back with favours that cost you more than you could afford?
"But I do have a favour to ask."
There it was.
He must have sensed the tension in your shoulders and the flicker of fear that ran across your face, because he raised his hands and softened his expression. "Feel free to say no of course."
You make your mouth move, tone hesitant. "What is it?"
"You wear it on our first date."
Your jaw drops open a little wider in shock, and a shit eating grin spreads across his face. You give a single, stunned nod and he beams wider. "Excellent. I'll be in touch. I'd stay longer, but Bruce will be insufferable if I disappear and make him handle all those vultures alone. I hope you can understand." he sends you a sympathetic and sheepish gaze, keeping eye contact with you as he drifts away into the crowd.
Two days later when you went to pick up the dress from the drycleaners, it was gone. You had panicked, calling the store to apologise, but oddly enough they couldn't find the dress in their system anymore. Tired from a long day of chasing, you found a tied package at your apartment door. Unwrapping the paper on your bed, you couldn't help but smile pulling out the dress you wore to the gala, freshly cleaned. Alongside it was a navy jewellery box, carrying a matching necklace. The piece of paper inside was written in a hastily scrawled handwriting, messier than you'd have expected from his pedigree.
I told you the dress was made for you. Call me to make plans.
-Dick
That had started the beginning of your relationship with the man who cheered you on relentlessly while you chased your dream. You called home so often that your mother had fallen in love with him too without even meeting him, while your father grew continually irritated with the way Dick's name became a household one without ever setting foot on the property. So, after a year of dating and having gone to meet his family multiple times (where upon meeting Bruce, you could tell where Dick had adopted many of his mannerisms) he was finally coming to see the place where you had grown up.
The second your car had rolled through the gates and hit park; your younger siblings were running towards you at full pelt. Correction, Lacey, your pocket rocket ten-year-old sister threw herself at Dick for a hug, while your quieter teen brother, Marcus watched from the porch.
"Are you Dickie?" Lacey had all but shouted at him, making him look at you. You stifled giggles behind your hand as he looked down at her, gently pulling her off before crouching. "You must be Lacey?" he asked with the soft smile he reserved for kids. She giggled and grinned at you, beaming.
"He knows my name!" she squeals, before giving you a big hug herself.
You laugh and send her back to your brother who was keeping his distance, sending a shrug to Dick as you go to unload the car. You can hear the fly screen rattle and the voices of your parents, signalling the start of a very active dinner. "Welcome, city boy." you smirk at him, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. He pulls you close and kisses you back, hand cradling your neck before he parts.
"Good to be here." he smiles.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
The week had flown by and he had settled in well, while your body fell back into your old routine like clockwork. Your father had been sceptical of Dick at the beginning, but Dick had proven himself rather quickly, offering to help out. He wasn't afraid to get dirty, he didn't tear up or complain when he got a scrape or a bruise. Often times it was your mother that would fuss over him when he came into the kitchen sporting a new bump or injury, and he'd look down with surprise like he hadn’t even felt it. He was good with Lacey and even quiet Marcus warmed up to him, spending his afternoons in the stables with Dick showing him how to care for the horses. The horses were the animals Marcus had loved ever since he was a child, and when Marcus let Dick saddle up one of his to take a small ride around the paddock, you knew he was part of your family now.
You couldn’t deny that he looked good in work gear, it was like a weight was off his shoulders. His eyes seemed clearer; soul less burdened. It was only when he came out to meet your family that you realised he his lips naturally curved downwards in Gotham, his eyes blue as the sky but lost in someplace further than the horizon he stared out at. He looked good in denim and with reigns in his hand, gentle with the horse as he caught your gaze and steered her over to you. He was in a spare pair of work boots your quickly growing brother no longer fit, and a sweat broken work hat on his head. You had to stop the tingle in your hand and cheeks catching sight of him like that. When he looked at you, you finally felt like his eyes were looking at you.
"Hey, handsome." you call, pushing off from the paddock fence. "I see you've made a good impression on Marcus."
He grins down at you, dismounting swiftly like he had been riding all his life. "He's a good kid." he smiles, and you kiss his cheek.
"Come on, dinner's almost ready." you say sweetly before turning to your younger brother, still on his horse. "And that goes for you too, mister!" you holler, making Marcus flip you off in the distance.
"Teens." you grumble, making Dick laugh as you head to the stables.
You help Dick unsaddle, making sure the tack is put away properly. You look over at him, frowning softly as you see the expression on his face. It's the same shadow he wears in Gotham, the weight of something invisible constantly pressing down on him. "Hey, you okay?" you call with a kind smile, making him look up quickly. You don't see the phone in his hand that he slips back into his pocket, only the tight grin he sends back to you.
"Yeah, fine."
You walk back to the house in silence, and your mother already has dinner waiting for you. Everyone proceeds as usual, but you can't help looking at Dick seated across from you, with a soft frown on your face. He seems out of it, and when he meets your eyes it's guilty. The tension is thankfully not felt by other members of your family, allowing you to follow him when he slips out.
You find him in your childhood bedroom, where you've both been sleeping. "Hey, you okay?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe. he has his back to you, fiddling with something in his pocket. What he says next steals the breath from your lungs.
"I can't do this."
It's like the rug has fallen out from beneath your feet you and you straighten yourself quickly, closing the door behind you so no one can hear your conversation. "Dick?" you ask, softly, heart racing. "What do you mean?"
He sighs and turns to you, eyes normally so bright now swirling with emotion. "I think...I think we should break up." he says, voice barely pushing the words out.
"You don’t mean that." you shake your head, hand coming to your temple. This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. "Why? what's wrong?"
"I just...I have something I need to do back in Gotham. I can't...I can't give you the life you want. I don't think we'll work out." he sends you an apologetic smile like your eyes aren't filling with tears, lip wobbling.
"What made you think that?" you ask, trying to hold it together. To not let your emotions control you and push him further away. "Was it...Was it my family? This life?"
"No, no, nothing like that." he says hurriedly. "I just think, god-" he runs a hand through his hair, sucking his teeth. "I just don't think we're compatible."
"And it took you until meeting my family for you to say that, huh?" you say, arms crossed and unable to hide the hurt tone. He winces, wringing his hands.
"I have to go." he says softly.
"Why?" you demand again, voice raising. "God damn it, Grayson, you can't just tell me you want to break up suddenly. That's not fair. Tell me. Tell me if it's something I did. You've been distracted on your phone, just tell me if it's work or another woman-" you cut yourself off when you see him grimace and your breath stops in your throat. You hadn’t been serious when you said that. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
He raises his hands in defence, making you scoff. "Please, listen." he pleads, making your blood rush to your head.
"You've actually been talking to another woman? Are you kidding-"
"It's just Babs, I swear-"
"Barbara Gordon?" your voice shrilly rings at the mentions of his ex. "Oh yes, because texting your ex-girlfriend makes me feel so much better." you spit, holding your hand out. "Be honest for once. S how me." You seethe, and after a hesitant moment he unlocks his phone and places it in your hand with a defeated sigh. You swipe to his messages, heart shattering as you read her contact’s name still with an orange heart beside it.
"There's something I need help with. You need to come home."
You hate reading how readily he replied, running back to his ex the second that she says she needed him. the way she called him home, like he hadn't been with you so naturally you even had the audacity to think that maybe he could find a life here too. A home. Somewhere peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle and having to constantly be on his guard. To be able to steal kisses under the shine of the stars instead of the invasive flash of the paparazzi.
He takes the phone from you, unable to meet your eyes. Dick doesn't feel like he deserves to.
His heart breaks as he walks past you, shoving his things back into the bag he packed. He can feel the hurt radiating off you, making his own heart break. He wants to tell you that he hasn't been talking to Barbara, not that way at least. That he did love you, with every part of him. He loved your family. He loved the gruffness of your dad and the way he'd check in on Dick periodically, grumbling about him being a city kid but still making sure he didn't get too banged up. He loved your mothers cooking and let Lacey play with his hair. He loved Marcus and his passion for his animals. He loved you.
He loved you in finery he bought you and he loved you with dust in your hair and callouses on your hands. He loved you in jewellery and he loved you in chaps, loved you in heels and the dirt caked work boots. That's what he told himself, but if he was breaking your heart this way, he wasn't sure if he was ever truly able to love you.
If he loved you as much as he fooled himself, he wouldn't be leaving with no explanation, wouldn't be breaking your heart at your parents’ house, your safe place. If he loved you, he would tell you that he was Nightwing, and he would never be able to come out to the countryside with you. That he had a duty in Gotham that had him risking his life every night.
He wished he could tell you who he was, and he yearned to. When he looked into those heartbroken eyes of yours, he wanted to take you into his arms and spill his heart out and kiss you stupid. He wanted to tell you everything, about him, his family, about Bruce. But he couldn't, his own lips freezing in fear. His throat bobs as he swallows harshly, looking down in guilt. "Alfred is bringing the car. He'll be here soon." he says softly.
The words he really wants to say is:
Please love me. Please don’t hate me. Please forgive me.
He grabs the last of his things and pushes past you before the burning to comfort you overtakes his logical mind. He knows he has to go back. Indulging himself in you and your sunlight was something that he couldn't afford. He couldn't afford you to get hurt, to get wrapped up in his world. It was a first for him dating a civilian, and he was terrified. That fear built up over in his mind, and he knew it. He knew he should give you a chance, but it was the safer option, the lesser of two evils. He could suffer the pain of losing you, or he could suffer the pain of you finding out who he was and hating him.
His heart shatters as he hears the sob of you, beginning to break down as he leaves.
He passes the faces of your family, curious but silent. He feels their eyes follow him, a brand of shame tracing him and his path out. The cold is biting, nipping at his skin but he doesn't feel it. All he can see in his mind's eye is you undoubtably being comforted by the worried hands of your mother, crying out in heartbreak and not even getting to know why.
By the time that Alfred arrives, he can see the silhouette of your family on the porch, Marcus and your father. He can hear your father yell at him as he gets into the car, but he can't make out the words as he shuts the door and Alfred begins to roll away. He slouches against the door, head in his hands. Alfred looks back, studying him.
"Did you tell her, sir?" Alfred asks softly, the older man's fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Dick had promised that he'd tell you, let you make your own decision before continuing to be involved with him. Alfred liked you and had reassured Dick countlessly that you would likely be nothing but accepting is he did reveal his secret identity. yet as he stares at the slumped man in the rearview mirror, a pang of disappointment shoots through his heart as he pieces together what's happened. Dick tries his best to stop the tears, but they prickly to the forefront anyway.
"No. But there's nothing left to tell her." Dick mumbles defeatedly, staring out the window with dull eyes.
but there was, three little points he never got out of his mouth.
I'm Nightwing.
I'm sorry.
I love you.
#messenger of babel#angstober 2024#day 30#fanfic#angstober24#angstober#angst#dc comics#dc fanfic#dc x reader#dc#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#nightwing fanfic#dick grayson angst#dick grayson x reader#nightwing#dc nightwing#nightwing dc#dick grayson x you#nightwing angst#richard grayson#dick grayson fanfic#richard grayson x reader#its so weird calling him Richard sometimes but I love the legal name#nightwing fanfiction
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Tangerine x Reader
titled fics:
Crossed Paths Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4*
Said the Spider, to the Fly * (Sub!Tan x Dom!Reader) (pt 2)* ♥
I Know That I Should Let Go, But I Can’t (Tangerine x Goofy!Reader & pt 2 & pt 3) x ♥
Not Your Fault, But Mine (Tan x Single Mother!Reader)♥
Forever Blowing Bubbles (Reader x Tangerine Childhood friends to married) & Holiday Drabble♥
love drunk (Sex Pollen) Start Part 1 Part 2
Strange Bedfellows*♥
untitled fics:
Tangerine x Tattoo Artist Reader
Tangerine x Reader Head Rubs
Tangerine x Reader Old Friends
Tangerine x M!Reader *
Tangerine x Reader Rivals to Lovers
Possessive/Jealous!Tangerine x F!Reader *
Stealing Tangerine’s Jewellery & Part 2
Tangerine x Handler!Reader
Tangerine x Sniper!Reader *
Tangerine x Reader Only One Bed *
Tangerine x Short!Male!Reader
Mafia!Tangerine x Innocent!Reader
Sub!Tangerine x Reader *
Tangerine x Reader Bad Date
Tangerine and Elder’s Assistant
Stealing Tangerine’s Watch♥
Reader Accidentally Hurt
Tangerine x GN!Reader Smut - By The Fire *
Tangerine x M!Reader Smut *
Tangerine’s Reaction When You’re Expecting
Tangerine x Reader - Date Night
Tangerine Can’t Cook
Tangerine x Plus Size Reader*
Tangerine x Reader Praise Kink*
Tan’s First Time Bottoming*
Spooning
Tan Taking Care of Pregnant!Reader
Tan Finds You Crying
Drunk Tan x Reader
Reader & Tan Break Up
Sub!Tan Drabble
Cold Drabble
Washing Tan’s Hair
Lemon x Reader
Lemon x Assassin Reader *
Lemon x Reader Domestic Fluff
Lemon x Reader First Kiss
Lemon x Reader Suspenders
Lemon Dealing With Tangerine and Reader When They’ve Been Drugged♥
Lemon x Reader Bath
Lemon x Reader Smut *
Lemon x Reader Get a Cat
Reader Doing Lemon’s Tie
Lemon x Male!Reader
Lemon and the Boba Shop Barista♥
Lemon Morning Sex *
Maria Beetle x Reader
Phone Sex*
White Death x Reader
Lap
Kinktober Follow-Up*
heaven can’t help me now*
Yuichi Kimura x Reader
Single Mother!Assassin!Reader x Yuichi
Smut*
Misc Bullet Train
Pussy Eating Headcanon List
Lemon & Tangerine Clothes Shopping Headcanons
Tan & Lemon looking after a sick reader
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
Reasons To Share a Bed: x x x x
Sexual Tension Prompts: x x x x
Simple Action Prompts x x x x x
Smut Prompts x x x x x x
Staying the Night x x x x
#bottom graphics by bhaalism!!!#tangerine x reader#lemon x reader#maria beetle x reader#yuichi kimura x reader#the white death x reader#white death x reader
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Eye of the Storm
SERIES SUMMARY: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)
Chapter summary: Everything unfolds and you were the eye of the storm.
PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3
PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation
LONDON, 1919
Something clicked in Simon after Johnny’s funeral. He restricted you more than he did before. He was more forceful sometimes. You knew, because you braced yourself to face it everyday. 1…2…3…4…5… You had to count to ten every time he got mad. How many seconds will it take for him to lay his hand on you again?
“From now on, you can’t come to the garden without asking for my permission.” When he saw your mouth open to protest, he added, “Don’t push it. You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to go.”
“O-of course, Simon,” you tearfully obliged. “I— “
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
“Good. Now, come here, darling. You know I can’t stand when you’re mad at me,” he coos and you oblige, finding yourself perched on his lap. You hated this; hated how he was treating you. Hated how his arms immediately wrapped around you. “I know that you’re mad at me,” he starts. “Especially with everything that’s been going on but I’m only worried that Tommy Shelby’s gonna take you.”
“He’s not…you don’t have to worry about him, Simon,” you whispered. “I didn’t know that he was alive,”
“I know, I know,” he said. “But do you know where that puts me? You’ve been his friend since before the war and I’m not anything like him. It’s not you I don’t trust…it’s him. He’s a Birmingham rat with no respect. I want you safe. I want you here. If you behave yourself, then I’d slowly give you everything back. Hm?” he asked.
You nodded, the small smile on your face could never convey how cold you felt.
Simon knows that what he’s doing is wrong but what else can be done? Tommy Shelby was back and there was no way he’s giving you up to some Birmingham gangster. It was just impossible to do so. It would hurt him and his ego. He’s never been declined of something before as an only child of two rich parents. If he’d be declined of your love and affection, he will burn the world and everything in it. You were the only thing he truly wanted and if it came to you, he’d do everything to never let you out of his grasp.
When he first seeked you out, you were eighteen. He was already enamoured, watching you from afar. You laughed with the girls and stayed with Big Johnny most nights. You were innocent, a fragile little thing that he wanted—needed. You listened to him and even treated him as a friend. It was different from how the girls treated him there. The girls would ask for gifts, and he bought them but you…you dressed up immediately after every visit. You’d smile at him before leaving, going to Johnny for your nightly lessons. He sometimes went to visit you just to talk. You were the most intelligent girl there and he always looked forward to seeing you again. If you slip away from his grasp, he wouldn’t know what to do. It’s why he bought you that house; why he gave you jewellery even before you were married. He wanted you to be reminded of him everywhere you went. It was dangerous dealing with your past—he knew that; but danger was something he’d walk on if it came to having you.
“Darling, I was thinking…it’s been a while since we last went on a holiday. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. Reports of Tommy Shelby in London reached him. There was no way he’d let you meet again.
“Hm,” you hummed. “Can we go to New York?” you asked. “I’ve been wanting to go to Manhattan this time of year.”
“Yeah?” he asked. The farther you were from Tommy, the better. “Then, I’ll have things arranged and I’ll let you know, okay?” he kisses your temple as he passes by.
“Of course,” you replied. Your face seems so unreadable these days, but it always was. Can Tommy Shelby decipher the emotions written on your face or does he have to guess too? He knows that you were still keeping things away from him…knows that you’re not being fully honest with how you feel and who Tommy Shelby was in your life. He was fine not knowing as long as you were his.
Irrevocably and utterly his.
BIRMINGHAM, 1910
“You know, Tommy,” you said. “When I was young, my mother told me that there were other lands outside England…outside Birmingham that isn’t London,” you said. Your savings could take you to London, but you could never seem to find the time. Simon has been visiting you more and the owner of the brothel ordered you to always be available for him because of how much he spends on you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to go to London at least once. Before I die, I want to go to London,”
“I’ll take you to London,” he says, voice gruff from the cigarettes. “I’ll take you to London and I’ll take you to the whole world,”
“You will?” you asked. You were always told by your customers that they’ll take you here and there…but with Tommy, you knew that what he was saying was true. He never liked to break his promises. “If you’ll take me there, I better save up money because there’s no way I’m letting you spend a fortune on me.”
“I’ll take you to New York, Paris, and all the major cities. We’ll see them for the first time together,” he promises.
“Together?”
“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”
“Of course, we will. Together,”
BIRMINGHAM, 1919
Grace has long been gone since Polly revealed the truth to her. Was it mad that Tommy didn’t feel any morsel of anything? He didn’t care if she betrayed him; didn’t care if she loved him…if anything, she was better off gone. It just…unsettled him. Was that the right word? He never liked Grace, but she was a good enough replacement for you in the meantime. She was good enough, but she wasn’t you, no matter how much Tommy forced himself to convince everyone that she was good enough.
He didn’t even think of lighting a cigarette for her departure. These guns, Billy Kimber…his ambitions of wealth, power, and control were too consuming for him to think of anything else. Too consuming that he knew that all ambition all boiled down to you, that mansion, horses, and a garden. He looks at the toy horses you’ve given him as children. It’s been showing signs of wear; time has the power to tear the edges of something precious so easily. Tommy liked thumbing the wooden toy to keep him afloat sometimes. It reminded him of peace, of home, of you.
“Tommy,” Polly called. Her conscience has been nagging her, steaming out of pores ever since Tommy showed her how much you meant to him. It was never easy remembering Tommy on the floor, so weak; so defeated. It was never easy to remember that she was the reason why Tommy was miserable. She took you away from him. She decided then, that she’d do everything in her power to help her grieving nephew. If your presence could show her any semblance of Tommy before the war, she’d take it. Maybe she should feel bad for burdening you with that weight on your shoulders, but she knew that you did it so naturally…so genuinely. She relieves herself of thinking that you and Tommy needed each other; so much so that the world she knows now will simply reintegrate. You were the glue that binds Tommy; the melted gold that holds the pieces back together. Without you, Tommy was broken—alone. She’d never want that for him. She’ll never want to see him like that again.
NEW YORK, 1920
When you told Simon that you wanted to go to New York, you didn’t know that you’ll be staying there indefinitely. You just said that to appease him, really. He made sure that all of your belongings were kept and taken to America. What didn’t fit, you’d buy. He was more lenient here. He’d let you go, and he was back to the Simon you’ve always known.
“You’ve been married for years,” his attorney’s wife recalls. “Where are the little Simons running around?”
“Oh-“ you looked at Simon to help you out, but he was too engrossed in his conversation with the lawyer to notice. “We’re still enjoying our marriage. Just the two of us,” you lied. “We like to travel and we’ll feel bad if we just…leave the child back home,”
“But you’re in New York,” she says, like it mattered. “Surely, you’ve been trying?”
“No, not really. Simon wants our child to be born in England.” you said.
“You’re not getting any younger, dear,” she says. “When I was around your age, I already had two children. I say, it’s better to start a family early,”
That night, when you were removing your jewellery, Simon laid his hand on your shoulder. He’s gentle in New York. Your shoulder used to feel heavy in London. He started kissing your neck and you allowed him.
“An heir wouldn’t be so bad,” he rasps, nibbling on your ear. “Maybe soon…I want to have you all to myself first. Don’t want you to love me any less because of a child,”
“I wouldn’t love you any less, Simon.” you smiled at him. You didn’t want to bear his heir but if he was convinced that you’ll love him less because of a child, you’ll string him along.
“I know but then, you’d dote on him and be all…” he drones on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone else. It can just be the two of us forever.”
BIRMINGHAM, 1911
“Tommy!” you called, walking through the muddy soil of the stables that he worked in. He took care of horses sometimes, to earn some extra money. It paid well and he was surrounded with the calmness of the horses that he took care of. He vowed to have his own stables filled with his own horses in the future. Maybe it was pathetic but Tommy was envious seeing things that he wanted being taken advantage of. He knew how to take care of horses but he never owned them. His dreams were so close yet so far. He was brushing the coat of one of the horses when you came barrelling towards him.
“Tommy!” you called again. “I’m free now. Let’s go!”
“Wait, wait,” he laughs, making sure that the horse—he secretly named him Hayday because the horse had a coat in the color of hay. He only told you that though. “Alright, Hayday. Let’s get you back to your stable,” he tells the horse, petting its snout. You smiled at his softness, following them quietly. You let Tommy do his job maintaining Hayday for a while, smiling widely when you saw him coming towards you. He was rubbing his face with water to get rid of today.
“I smell.” he frowned, looking through his ragged satchel for a towel or an extra shirt. “Let me just…” he says, taking the shirt from the bag and then giving the bag to you. He turns around to remove his dirty shirt, tucking it between his legs and then changing into the cleaner shirt. You watched the way his back muscles flexed—working as a mechanic and carrying whatever he does was paying off. The clean shirt clung onto his figure nicely…you looked away before he could catch you staring though. “Thanks for keeping my bag,” he says, taking his bag from you. He hangs it on his shoulder and then links his arm with yours. You couldn't see the smirk that played in his lips. “Where are we going again?”
“Remember, I told you to come with me to the market to buy something?” you asked him. He nods, letting you lead the way to the market. “Well, I’m free now. Let’s go.”
Tommy tells you all about his day on the way to the market, not knowing anything of what you had planned. It was his birthday last month, but you weren’t able to save up enough money for his gift because of a repair in your home. You drag him all the way to where the more expensive shops were, Tommy’s brows furrowing.
“Here,” you said, stopping at a jeweller. You take him inside and he lets you.
“What are we doing here— “
“Look!” you said, pointing at the gold signet ring on display. You leave Tommy to go get the clerk. You’ve been paying for the ring for a year now; little by little until you were able to fully pay for it. It was a gift for Tommy’s 21st birthday. You were talking to the clerk for a pick up when Tommy walks to you. The clerk gives you the red velvet box and you turn to Tommy, a wide smile on your face.
“Who is this for?” he asked, frowning. Was this for that Rich Bastard? “You know I can’t afford that,”
“But I can. It’s for you,” you told him softly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry it was a month late,” You open the box for him. “Go on, wear it.”
“Y/N…love,”
“You have to accept it. I saved up for that, you know?” He takes the ring from the box and slides it on his ring finger.
“Thank you…” he rasps, his throat closing up. “For this.”
“It’s okay, Tommy. I’d give you the world if I can but for now, a ring would suffice, don’t you think?”
-
You both settled at an empty grassland by the docks afterwards. Tommy couldn’t stop looking at his ring.
“I still can’t believe you got me a ring,” he says, looking at you. “It must have cost you a fortune, eh?”
“It’s okay, Tommy. I want to give you something more for being a great friend to me.” you tell him. He nods at your words. Friends. Is that all he’ll ever be?
“I got you this,” he says, showing you the simple, lone daisy that he picked on the way here. “I…” he says, tucking it behind your ear. I wish I could give you more. You stopped breathing, the proximity was too much to bear. You could see the blueness of his eyes, the freckles that kissed his nose and his cheeks. You could see every eyelash. It seemed like he didn’t mind it either. He was looking at you intently, trying to memorize every detail of your face. A face that could start a war, he was almost positive of it. You both unintentionally lean into each other, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to your lips, breath hitching.
“Tommy!” you jump away from each other, looking away. Fuck. He sighs in annoyance, looking at one of the guys he knew from work.
Maybe next time.
CAMDEN TOWN, 1921
“Put him down, Ollie!” he shouts. “Put him down, mate. He is only little.”
“You on your own?” He asked Tommy.
Tommy glances around.
“Seems so,”
Alfie Solomons always liked to play the best games. He had wide shoulders that matched how dominant and domineering he seemed. He was unpredictable, abandoning all sorts of things just to make sure that in the end, he gets the best deal. Tommy wondered what kind of deal he could put up with the Jewish gangster to double cross Simon Coventry, his biggest payer.
“Well, you’re a brave lad, ain't you?” he asked. “Want to take a look around my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it?”
Tommy listens to him drone on about bread. He asked for brown bread and was served one.
“Come look,” Alfie says, leading Tommy to his office.
-
“Well, I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You’re gipsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”
“I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy coughs.
“Well, rum is for fun and fucking. So, whiskey, now that is for business,” he says, putting his bottle of whiskey for Tommy Shelby.
“Let’s talk first, eh?”
“Suit yourself,” Alfie shrugs.
“Heard you were dealing with billionaires,” Tommy brought up, trying to gauge the situation. He was sitting right in front of Alfie’s desk, noticing the latter reach for the drawer in his right.
“You heard correct. What about it?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Simon Coventry.” Tommy said. “He pays well?”
“Very well, mate.” Alfie replied, sipping on his whiskey. “Seeked for our protection services, invested…paid to kill for him. Has a wife, you know? Have you heard about her?”
“No,” Tommy shrugged, his voice monotonous, eyes bored. Alfie licks his lips.
“Never met her…lovely wife, they say, yeah. A very lovely wife…but this lovely wife of his needs to be guarded. Don’t believe in all that…I don’t do that to women, but this lovely wife of his is…huh, well, told me to kill anyone who comes near her, yeah? And guess what, mate? You’ve a big fucking bounty written on your fucking forehead,” Alfie revealed. “Now,” he pauses, leaning on the table. “What is this business you’re looking for?”
“We join forces,”
“Fuck off. No! Categorical. Fucking ridiculous,” he leans back, scoffing. Tommy leans forward, clasping his hand over the table.
“Mr. Solomons. Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent and the rest; you make from the tracks.”
Alfie fumbles with the handle but Tommy speaks.
“I know you keep a gun in the drawer beside the whiskey. I know you offer a deal or death. I know what I’m saying makes you angry but I’m offering you a deal. People don’t trust your protection anymore. What makes you think that Simon Coventry will continue to trust you?” he asked.
“Well, you shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That’s you. You fucking betrayed him, mate. So, it’ll be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to you right now.”
“I can offer you a hundred good men all with weapons and a new relationship with the police.”
“Intelligence,” Alfie says. “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend? And usually…it comes far too fucking late,” he reaches for the drawer on his left, pointing the gun at Tommy. He cocks the gun and Tommy sits there, unblinking. “Let’s say I shot you already, right? In the fucking face. And then the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there. Which is a shame.”
Tommy just sits there, his face devoid of any emotion. If he gets killed now, he doesn't care. He had no fear of death anymore.
“It’s fucking simple, mate,”
Blood trails down from Tommy’s nose and Alfie talks about some fucking cabinet behind him. He throws Tommy his handkerchief, but he doesn’t take it. Fucking cabinets and fucking asking him if Tommy wanted to go to Timbuktu.
“I’m sorry, go on,” Alfie concedes after telling Tommy that he always thought he’d have a big gold ring on his finger. It was only a small signet ring that Tommy was unconsciously playing with under the table. “Tell us your plan.”
NEW YORK, 1921
“I just got off the phone with the secretary. We’re invited to some Charity Gala in London that we have to go to,” Simon says. Simon says…seems like all you do is follow what Simon says. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go.”
“When is this?”
“In a week mostly,” he shrugged. “It would be great to have you there. It’s not grand or anything; it’s just a few of my partners having an event for some charity or foundation.”
“Oh,” you nodded. You wanted to be away from Simon, but you also wanted to go back to London. How were the Shelbys? How was Beth? “Yeah…yeah, I’ll go,”
“Perfect,” he says. “Your dress? You need a new one. I’ll arrange a trip for you with my assistant to help you look for what to wear. You have to be the most beautiful woman there. For reference, I prefer blue on you.”
“Okay, Simon. I’ll make sure to get a blue dress for you.” He smiles at you before turning the page on his newspaper. You were glad that things were back to how they were before Tommy arrived in Birmingham. You didn’t blame him—Tommy—Simon’s actions were your own fault. Who in the right mind would let their wife love another man? It’s not like Simon knew of your love but the fact that you hid who Tommy was from him still remains. Letting go of Tommy that night was…painful.
You couldn’t erase how crest-fallen he looked; that you were the cause for his anguish. He didn’t follow you; you told him not to. You didn’t want him to see you sit outside the Garrison with your head buried in your hands. You didn’t want him to see you howl in pain because you’ll never see him again. You didn’t want him to see how it hurt you to say goodbye to him.
You didn’t want him to see you but someone else did.
BIRMINGHAM, 1919
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
You looked up from your cowering position, eyelashes clumped.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just…I just left your brother,” you whispered, trying to even out the sob that threatens to get out of your body. Arthur frowns, crouching down in front of you. He tries to remove your shaky hands only to be met with your bruising jaw.
“Did Tommy— “
“No,” you shook your head. “He didn’t hit me.”
He nods. Arthur didn’t know who Tommy was these days. He’s closed off, aloof, cold, detached…he sometimes wonders if a time comes and he’ll just snap. Arthur’s coping mechanism was violence. He knows that he’s good…his hands or only bloody but Tommy…Tommy wasn’t good anymore. He felt conflicted; everyone seems to put all the burden on you to make Tommy come back…to make him good again. He heard Polly talk about it; how Tommy needed you…but if Tommy was the reason why you’re miserable, is he still worth coming back to?
“I told Tommy to never see me again,” you managed through your cries. “I feel…I feel so lost, Arthur. I didn’t want to do that—to say that to him when-when he’s here now but I have no other choice…he’ll get-he’ll—“
“What about you?” he asked, tracing big circles on your back.
“What do you mean?” you asked, hiccuping.
“I mean…you talk about Tommy and-and making sure that we’re all doing great but what about you, eh?” There was a small frown on his face, it was so different from the ‘Mad Dog’ that people know him as.
“I don’t need that,” you chuckled. “I’m married to-to—“
“Simon Coventry, I know. But who do you have other than him? I know you love Tommy—don’t even fucking deny it. It’s why you’re doing all these things, I know but Tommy has us; he has Birmingham, and you don’t,” he adds, tearing your heart into pieces. The realisation of isolation dawns on you and it is wicked; consuming your heart with grief because you had no one. Not Tommy. Not anymore. “You make sure that all of us are being taken care of…but no one’s taking care of you. This whole thing-this thing with Tommy, is it worth it if you can’t even come home to Simon because you’re fucking crying in front of The Garrison?”
“I don’t know what to do,” you shrugged. “I…I just can’t seem to stay away from you lot,”
“Oh, love,” he sighs. He’ll never tell anyone that he saw you crying in front of the Garrison. “Why did you marry him?”
“Because…I wasn’t sure if Tommy’s coming back,” you whispered softly. You wiped away the tears from your face, trying to regain composure. “I sent…sent letters but he never wrote back. When Simon proposed the idea of marriage and Tommy wasn’t-wasn’t writing to me, I just took the chance. It was a chance to get out of that fucking hellhole. Tommy hates me for it,” you whimpered. “I know he hates me for it because I always told him that I’ll wait but-but he didn’t write back. I didn’t wait for him.”
Arthur frowns, confused.
“He wrote to you but you never wrote to him,” he said.
“What?”
“He did, love. Wrote to you multiple times and-and he’d always be the first one to show up when there were letters from home. Always-always looking for your letter,” he reminisces. Deep in your heart, you knew that he was telling you the truth because there was some sort of empty longing that crossed his eyes. “He waited for your letters every day for four years.”
“Arthur…”
“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, looking at you more intently. “None of us knew you got married,” he added.
“Arthur—“ You were heaving, this changes things. Your resentment towards Tommy was all in vain if he sent you letters but where were those letters? Where could they be? Seeing you in distress, Arthur flings his arm around your shoulder. “I hated him for it…I hated him for four years…” you weeped. “Arthur, how could I haveever hated him?” You felt like cold water was splashed on your face. Of course, Tommy would have never done that to you. But who did?
“It’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.”
-
LONDON, 1921
It’s been long since you last stepped foot in London. A year wasn’t a long time but a year teetering on the edge waiting for the next blow was a year too long. It’s not that you were expecting anything, but now that you’re in London…so close to Tommy, you know that everything will be different again. He’ll be forceful under the pretext of loving you, some bullshitt about it being for the better…you knew it was wrong. You knew that it wasn’t right. You hated your predicament, but you hated yourself more for never seeming to have the ability to hate him.
You never questioned his love for you; you were sure about that but sometimes…you found yourself questioning if he loved you too much. You’ve never experienced love like that before. Too much love. Growing up, you always had just enough. What you couldn’t find from your mum, you found in Johnny. What you couldn’t find in your customers, you found in the Shelbys. What you couldn’t find from yourself, you found in Tommy. What you couldn’t find in Tommy, you tried to look for in Simon.
Everything was just right. To have too much was too much.
“You’ve been quiet since we got here, darling,” Simon says, his hand on your knee as you rode the Bentley back home.
“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “I just miss London. It’s different to be back home,”
“I know,” he says. “But we’re here now. Where do you prefer?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, playing with his fingers. You thumbed the rings on his fingers, your wedding band the most important one.
“I’m asking…where do you want to build our family?” he asked. “I know I said that I didn’t want to have children yet but we aren’t getting any younger. We’d make the most beautiful children. They’ll get your beauty and intelligence. They’ll inherit whatever they want to inherit from me,”
Your fingers stilled.
“Hmm,” you pretended to think, trying to playt the cards right. “I’d want our children to grow up in London.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his head falling on your shoulder.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I want them to grow up here but also experience different things from travelling. Maybe we could find a summer house in Italy?” you asked. He kisses your neck and you sit there cold, unmoving.
“Yes, let’s buy a house in Italy…” he murmurs, drunk on your scent. “How many houses do you want, hm? Let’s buy whatever my wife wants…whatever she needs, hm?”
“You spoil me too much, Simon,” you force out a giggle. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“Only for the best. You’re going to be the mother of my children,”
-
You arrived home and you heaved a sigh. You went inside your bedroom, ready to unpack some of the items you bought from New York when your eyes landed on the frame of pressed flowers that Tommy gave you on your birthday. Simon has been telling you to get rid of it—it was tacky, he said but you told him that the flowers were from a day of picnicking with your mother when you were a child. You felt your lips twitch at the memory of Tommy giving it to you sheepishly. If only you could have him back now. If only he’s there with you.
You breathed deeply, trying to purge yourself of the sadness that lingered. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen him. He’s staying true to his word, you knew. He’s protecting you and you’re protecting him. You hated the situation you were in. Why did you need protection in the first place? You were the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the whole world. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. You could have everything but why do you feel so alone? Why do you feel like there’s still something missing? Why do you feel like, no matter what you did—no matter how you tried, Tommy’s still the one you love? You reached for the pendant but you remembered that it wasn’t there.
Was it selfish to wish for him to never marry someone else? To never love anyone? Was it selfish to wish for him to finally love you the way you do all these years?
Or was he only protecting you because he’s bound by his words and not the feeling of unbridled love that he has for you?
Polly told you that you could have everything…you felt like you had nothing.
You had more when you were working as a prostitute.
Now, you just have Simon.
-
Simon has been feeling your detachment ever since you arrived in New York. He knew that it was his fault; laying his hand on you like that but could anyone really blame him? You were his love; the object of all of his desires. You needed protecting, you needed safety and you needed him to give you the world.
He was in his office, sorting through the files that he left for a year. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He wanted you all for himself. He was hungry for you; hunger for your affection, your flesh, your gaze. He’ll do everything to preserve the attention that you were giving him but now that he feels you slipping away, he’s becoming more desperate. It was all Tommy Shelby’s fault and he needed to be dealt with.
“I sent you the money for the murder of Johnny Wilson,” he speaks into the telephone. “I need you to do gsomething for me again.”
“Hm?”
Simon speaks into the phone authoritatively. Details of his plan were spoken. He was meticulous and specific with what he wanted.
“Even…even the children?”
“Even the children,” he confirms. He senses the hesitation of the speaker from the other side. “If you do it in less than a year, I’ll add another twenty thousand to the total. I’ll make sure you never have to work a day in your fucking life. Call me when it’s done,” he spits, ending the call and looking at a photo of you on the table; not knowing that on the other side, an intruder was hearing everything that just transpired.
Who was Simon Coventry?
-
Cameras flashed as you enter the venue for the charity ball. You were dressed in a blue gown like promised. Simon’s hand was on your waist, smiling tightly at the cameras. He always hated the attention of the media and in your own way, you wanted to calm him down. You touch the hand that was on your waist to remind him that you were there. You smile at him softly and he smiles back. If only he was as soft as he presents himself to be in the media.
He leads you into the venue without so much a glance offered to the media and you follow.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” you smiled up at him.
“You can go ahead and sit,” he says. “I’ll just be greeting some of my partners.” You nod and you allow him to kiss you on the cheek before you part ways. You didn’t know why—but you felt like something was wrong. Something was going to happen tonight.
A waiter comes to your table and offers you a drink. He was young—probably way younger than you.
“Champagne, please,” you told him. “You’re too young to be working,”
“I-I’m nineteen, ma’am,” he tells you while pouring you a glass.
“Ah, maybe not that young then,” you replied. “Is this your first day?”
“Yes, ma’am. My first day on the job,” he says. “I’m quite nervous to be surrounded by the rich but I need the money…”
“I’m sure you’ll do well,” you replied, offering him a friendly smile. “Here,” you said, opening your clutch and handing him a few pounds. “Think of it as a tip for serving me champagne and for talking to me.”
“This is too much, ma’am,” he refuses but you shove the notes in his hand. You remembered how tips from the brothel helped you so much; it allowed you to buy necessities. It allowed you to get Tommy the signet ring that you got him for his 21st birthday. You were busy talking to the young man that you didn’t notice your husband walking towards you with a scowl on his face.
“Hey, you,” he sarcastically greets the server, snapping his fingers rudely.. “Refill my glass,”
“Simon— “
“Thank you,” he says, disregarding you completely. The boy turns to leave but Simon stops him. “No, stay. I need you to refill my fucking drink every time.”
“Simon—“
“You think my wife is beautiful?” he asked. The boy looks at you and you attempt to shake your head; telling him to walk away before anything else happens. “I’d be offended if you told me that she wasn’t.”
“Simon— “
He takes a swig of his drink before extending the same empty glass.
“What’s your name?” Simon asked, watching the boy shakily refill the champagne flute. “Don’t spill anything on my wife,” he threatens darkly. The boy swallows.
“William, sir,”
“William…do you think my wife is pretty?” he asked again. You look around the room to see that everyone was trying to discreetly watch the commotion. You tried standing up but Simon pushed you back down.
“Y-yes, sir,”
Simon nods, pleased with William’s answer.
“You may go, William,” you calmly told him.
“You may not,” Simon says. William’s feet were stuck planted on the ground. He was shaking and you tried to plead with Simon, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Actually, let’s take this outside, hm? Everyone seems to be enjoying this fucking commotion. Come with us, Y/N,”
“Simon, please,”
“Come on, darling,” he says, pulling you away forcefully from the table. You stumble after him, heart racing wildly inside your chest. Fuck. Your shoulders were shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The three of you arrive in the wine cellar, an empty room where you were sure no one heard you.
“Stand there,” Simon says. “Y/N, stay beside me.”
William stands in front of Simon, his steps hesitant.
“I’ll give you a deal, William. Do you want a thousand pounds? You’ll never find that anywhere else,” he taunts. You shake your head discreetly, but William wasn't looking at you. He was pale, his breathing shallow. “I’ll give it to you right now. Cash,”
“Y-yes, sir,” he replies.
“Say please,”
“Simon—“
“Shut up! Shut up!”
“Please, sir,”
“Kneel and beg.”
“Simon, it’s not right! Please, let’s just go home,”
William kneels in front of Simon, and you could see the sinister smile that played on his lips. He fishes for something in his pocket—a gun.
“S-sir,”
“You want a thousand pounds, yeah?” he asked, waving his gun in the air.
“Simon—“
“I don’t want another word from you, Y/N. Or else, I swear, I will fucking shoot you.” he threatens. You were trying your best to stop being so hysterical but you couldn’t. You were sobbing, hands shaking when Simon pointed the gun at the poor boy. You tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out; tried to wonder what a monster Simon becamez
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you choked, crouching down on the floor to comfort yourself. “I’m sorry, William…”
BANG! BANG!
The sounds of a gun going off rings inside the cellar and you flinch. Simon has just shot William twice; one on his stomach, one on his shoulder. It was sloppy; you knew he was aiming for his heart. William lays on the floor with a pool of his own blood, crying in pain. Simon just walks towards him, throwing him a thousand pounds and then spitting on William’s face.
“Don’t ever look at my fucking wife again. Fix yourself Y/N. We’re going back to the party,”
“Simon, he’s just a kid! Get him to a fucking hospital!”
“I said, fix yourself!” he roared, and you closed your mouth. You stepped away from him, afraid of what he might do.
“Now you know what happens if you ever try to leave me. It’s time for me to show you what I will do to protect you, okay darling?” he asked, crouching down to your level and pulling you in an embrace. He kisses your temples to comfort you for the damage that he has done. “Don’t ever leave me,”
The two of you left William’s body and went back to the party. You were shaken, aloof the whole night. You couldn’t believe what just transpired. Simon’s cruelty—his disregard for himan life for a thousand pounds… You were trying to catch the attention of other servers but were ignored. You just wanted someone to check on William, that poor boy. You and your husband continued to sit beside each other acting like the happy couple, never noticing the pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into you.
-
Simon killed Johnny.
Your hands shook as you read the handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper over and over again. You found it in the clutch that you left in your seat when Simon shot William in the cellar. Turning the paper over, you sobbed; unable to control the emotions that begged for your attention—anger, fear, disgust, sadness…everything seemed to crash into you. You run towards the bathroom to vomit on the toilet. Your whole body tembled, and you cradled yourself on the bathroom floor. You didn’t care if the dress was wet and crumpled…how…why…what did you do in your past life to be punished like this?
-
You haven’t been the same since you received that note. Simon found you in bed; unmoving and unresponsive. The shock must have been too much to bear but he had to show you—he had to put on a display of what he would do to keep you safe and away from the Shelbys. He didn’t regret anything except for the way your eyes glistened when he threatened to shoot you. That was a sin he’d pay for but for now, maybe silence is enough to soothe you.
He lays in bed, an inch too far away from you and he couldn’t bear it. He could hear the way your sobs shook the bed; how hard you tried to keep yourself from being too loud.
“Darling…” he coos but you only cried harder.
“Not tonight, Simon. Please,” you whispered, desperation kicking in. “I’m…I’m— “
He nods to himself, a wounded puppy.
“I have…I have to leave you tomorrow to meet with Alfie Solomons,” he tells you. “Use that time to go out or, or get out of this place. I wouldn’t mind if you went alone as long as you have at least one of Alfie’s men to guard you,”
You wanted to laugh. He was holding your liberty as hostage; taunting you with it whenever he did something wrong but in reality, no matter how much freedom he grants you, his hand will always be on your neck to keep you from leaving.
“I’m sorry for threatening you,”
“Not tonight, Simon,”
He nods but it actually angers him for you to refuse him so easily. He has given you anything and everything. Hell, he bought you that summer house in Italy already, but you still couldn’t give him the satisfaction of holding you for the night. Did Tommy Shelby hold you while you slept? Would you have let him?
-
You felt Simon kiss your head before he left. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of all the ways to tell Tommy or at least anyone about Simon’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was sincere when he told you that you can go out today but you were taking that chance. You knew that Arthur wanted you to protect yourself but maybe this could be the last time. Just this once and then, never again.
You dressed up, the brown coat covering your figure and giving you shelter from the cruelty of the world that Simon built for the two of you. You ordered one of the servants to fetch you one of Solomons’ men that could drive. You needed to talk to Polly or anyone from Birmingham and the only way to do it was through the telephone. It was too dangerous at home; Simon had eyes and ears everywhere.
“Mrs. Coventry,” the driver greets you, opening the door to let you in. You settle yourself inside, opening your clutch for a deal he couldn’t resist.
“Other than driving me around, what else do you do?” you asked him.
“I’m told to obey all of your orders as long as it complies with what Mr. Coventry asks us,” he replied. “Where are we going today, ma’am?”
“Just…go to the city,” you replied. “Do you think…do you think you could do something for me? I’ll make sure you’re paid and that you won’t be blamed for anything that comes out of it,”
“Ma’am, I am under strict orders of Mr. Solomons to— “
“Five hundred pounds,” you interrupted, you needed him to understand the urgency of the situation. Your nail beds have bled through the night and were red and swollen. “I can give it to you in cash right now. Just tell me if you know where I could reach the Shelbys the fastest,” You sounded like Simon like now, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care anymore.
“There…there are Blinders right outside a flat in London. Ada Shelby is rumoured to live there,” he says lowly.
“Take me there. Make sure you’re discreet and make sure we’re not being followed. I’ll make sure that you’re safe,” you promised him. “Just…just go there as fast as you can,”
It’s hard to be discreet when you’re driving one of the most expensive cars in the world, but he drove you to Ada Shelby’s house anyway. Five hundred pounds was more than what he could ever make working under Alfie Solomons.
A storm was brewing, and you were at the centre of all of it.
-
Ada lives in a building in the centre of London. On the way, your driver told you about how Tommy bought the whole building for her. You smiled softly; Tommy was finally realising his dreams, but he was realising them without you.
You exited the car, covered from head to toe. You made sure no one recognized you; the lush, brown coat and your hat covered your face entirely. You told him to leave you alone and come back in three hours. He zoomed off, afraid to be seen by one of Simon’s men.
Your breathing was uneven and the steps that you took were shaky. You blamed it on the uneven ground. Knocking on the door, you prayed silently for Ada to hear you. The more time you spend outside, the higher the risk of being recognized. You waited with bated breath, but the door soon opened, revealing none other than the man who occupied every corner of your brain. You rushed inside before he could even speak and he let you, locking the door behind him as he followed you into the drawing room. He stands in front of you, removing the coat from your shoulders gently. You were shivering but not from the cold. How were you more beautiful than the last time he saw you?
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” you said over and over again, like you were making sure that he was there. Your resolve was dissolving, and you were near hysterical. He crouches down in front of you to take a good look for your face. He missed it; he missed your touch…he missed you. His fingers on your waist seem to snap you back to reality and you take a deep breath. “Simon killed Johnny. He’s going to—he’s going to kill all of you,”
-
A/N: Thank you very much for making this far! We’re getting closer to the end of this series but please don’t forget to reblog and comment if you liked it / loved it / hated this chapter, etc! I love discussing and replying to your comments and reblogs.
ALSO: A quick character study on Simon is that he is filty rich. The value of money is immaterial to him. In his eyes, money is a way for him to get anything and everything he wants. It’s what makes people kill and die for each other. If it benefits him, then he’d gladly throw money at whatever it is about.
TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme
(I’ll be removing people from my taglist on the next chapter if conditions aren’t met! I’m sorry but that’s the rule….)
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fluff#fanfiction#fanfic#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x you#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#protection!tommy
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only for tonight
from ─ ⋆ dinna’s holiday special 2023 *ੈ✩
pairings: jooyeon x fem!reader x jiseok
genre: smut wc: 5k
summary: jooyeon sucks at secret santa, and when he shows up empty handed at the party where everyone’s exchanging their presents, he decides to gift his friend you for the night
warnings: dub-con, toxic relationships, possessive behaviour
contains: sub!reader, unprotected sex, cuckolding that turns into a threesome, dirty talk, pet names, oral sex (m/f), choking (f!rec), spanking, cussing, name calling (slut/whore), deepthroating, alcohol consumption, a few slaps here and there, a sprinkle of anal play but no anal sex (f!rec)
“Seriously, Jooyeon? How could you forget?” You whisper as loudly as you possibly could with the loud music blasting in the room. “It’s a Christmas party,” you add to emphasize his foolish mistake. He doesn’t seem to care though, swallowing the last few sips of yet another alcoholic drink, while you both follow Jiseok’s footsteps.
“Look, I get it, you can stop nagging now,” he hisses in a slightly irritated tone. “I’ll just get him something next week or something, it’s not a big deal,” he says, as you see Jiseok pointing at a white door.
You pass by the guests, leaving the living area and the three of you enter in which seems to be his bedroom.
You look around, enjoying the much quieter space. Jiseok’s apartment currently is definitely too crowded for your taste and this little empty corner of it was a nice change of scenery. Most of the time when there’s parties like this one you just decline the invitation, but it’s Christmas, and it’s Jiseok’s first big party in his new apartment, there was no way you could’ve miss it.
He was one of the few nice friends of Jooyeon who you didn’t mind being around.
He quickly opens and closes the wardrobe which is mostly empty like the rest of the room. The only thing he’s made is the bed and his gaming chair, the rest of his belongings are still waiting in an unopened boxes, except a few bags of clothes. He jumps over the scattered mess before walking up to you with a small present in his hand.
“Merry Christmas,” he gives you a genuine ear-to-ear smile before speaking again as you stare at the gift. “Pulled your name for Secret Santa.”
“Oh, really? Thank you, Jiseok…” you smile back, gently touching the red ribbon. “Merry Christmas to you too!”
Behind you Jooyeon leans back on the wooden desk, watching with interest how the scene unfolds.
“Awhh,” he imitates your surprised gasps while crossing arms to his chest. “Open it already! Let’s see if it’s better than what I got you.”
You roll your eyes at the comments just for Jiseok to see. He only laughs, finding Jooyeon’s overreaction humorous while you on the other hand couldn’t help, but feel like it rubbed you the wrong way.
Jiseok takes a step back, giving you time to open the gift. You rip off the festive wrapping paper, and after the small velvety box opens, you see a delicate silver bracelet that makes you swallow your tongue in surprise. You did not expect such a beautiful piece.
“Oh my goodness, it’s gorgeous! I-I don’t know what to say…” You take it out carefully.
“Phew, thank god I don’t have to go back to that store.” Jiseok’s face puckers as if he remembers something really unpleasant. “Glad you like it though.”
“Absolutely,” you say, when you feel Jooyeon’s presence appearing behind your shoulder.
“Do you need help putting it on?” He steals the jewellery from your hand, viewing it up close.
You nod without saying a word as something unsettling drops to the pit of your stomach from the way he’s suddenly behaving.
He reaches for your wrist while Jiseok is already about to exit the room.
“Alright, I gotta return to my party, I’ll wait fo—“
“Actually,” Jooyeon cuts him off, clasping the dangling bracelet. “I was supposed to get you something too, but I completly forgot. Hope you don’t mind.” He holds your hand between his two palms for several seconds before letting it go.
“Of course not,” Jiseok grins, finding the possibility amusing. “No biggie.” He opens the door, but his friend interrupts again.
“You’re not mad? It’s your party after all, and you got my girlfriend a nice present.”
“Dude, don’t worry about it. You’ll buy me a beer and we’re even.” He shrugs shoulders with eyes still smiling. His hand holds the door lock, as he notices some changes in Jooyeon’s expression.
“Now that I think about it… I actually might have something for you,” Jooyeon’s lips slid upwards, causing Jiseok to raise a brow.
“And that is?”
“Y/N. Only for tonight, of course.”
“What?” you exclaim, hoping for an immediate explanation.
Jiseok’s surprise follows yours with a delay, because he wasn’t sure if he heard right.
“What are you talking about?” he asks just when you move to stand between the two of them.
You and Jooyeon are face to face, but it’s like he looks right through you. You couldn’t understand a word of his at this point. Instead of giving you some clarity he takes a quick look at his phone.
“There’s an hour and a half left till midnight. I think that’s more than enough.” He shoves the cellphone back in his pocket, and waits for any reaction from Jiseok who could only stare at him in disbelief.
“I don’t think I get it,” he shakes his head, not able to take the idea seriously. It sounds too good to be true, especially from the mouth of Jooyeon who doesn’t let any guy from his friend group even breathe next to you.
“I’m giving you one hour with my girlfriend,” your boyfriend explains in a completely calm manner that made your skin crawl. “That’s my christmas gift.” A delighted smile takes over his face when he wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, don’t pretend in front of me.”
Jiseok attempts to say something back, but he only gets silenced as Jooyeon’s rising voice dominates the conversation.
“We’re friends and good friends share with each other, right Y/N?”
You couldn’t recognise your own boyfriend at that moment.
“She was so worried that I didn’t buy you anything. Tsk, my sweet considerate kitten, always looking out for others.” He eyes you up and down, grinning mischievously and still not letting go of Jiseok. “I know you want to fuck her,” he whispers in his ear. “You’ve always wanted to.”
“Jooyeon…” your breath hitches as you look for the right words. He couldn’t be talking seriously. He couldn’t give you to someone else.
“Yes, doll.”
Jiseok flinches after Jooyeon pulls away. He comes up to caress your cheeks, anticipating your words. Either his fingertips are cold or you’re just on fire all of a sudden, you couldn’t tell.
Before you can form a coherent thought, Jooyeon forces his lips on top of yours. The jewellery box falls from your hand as you wince from his grip. The alcoholic taste flows into your mouth when he parts your lips to slip his tongue, stimulating all of your senses.
Whatever the situation was, Jooyeon’s touch always brought butterflies in your stomach, making you forget what’s happening around you, and that drove you crazy.
Your mouth begins moving like it has a life of its own, letting more of his tongue in, smooching his bottom lip and swallowing more of his breaths.
“He’s watching, right?” He drops the question between your kisses with an erotic raspiness to it.
You pull back, peaking from his shoulder and catch Jiseok’s stare. This makes him immediatelly look to the other side of the room, acting as if he didn’t see a thing.
“Go sit down.”
With your legs trembling, you do as Jooyeon commands, sitting at the end of the bed. He comes to grip on the sides of your turtleneck sweater, fully removing it from your body. The sudden chilly air makes you shiver as you remain in your lacy bralette.
“Let’s show him how fucking gorgeous you are.”
He tosses the piece of clothing on the ground and glares at his friend.
Jiseok sighs, running a hand through his dark hair as he always does when he’s contemplating about something. He walks around the room, straying away as far as possible, but his attention turns back to you every time. He tries to compose himself, however, his body language betrays him.
Suddenly all of the perverse thoughts he’s had of you on the days you’ve hung out together can be evident in his expressions.
Jooyeon sees them all.
“You’re very quiet over there.” Your boyfriend evokes.
“What do you want me to say?” Jiseok raises his voice as his expression transforms into something different than what it used to be. “Yeah, I want to fuck her, so what?” He scoffs after he sees Jooyeon’s satisfied smirk follow.
He watches him jump on the bed without paying more attention to him.
The truth is, Jooyeon has been secretly wanting to share you with someone for a while now, and the only person he’s willing to do it with is Jiseok. They grew up together, and Jooyeon has learned through the years how to read every single expression of his face. He’s perfectly aware that Jiseok has been dreaming to fuck you the day he introduced you to him as his girlfriend - alone, he can bet.
Your heart starts raising as both of them finally surround you. Jiseok gets closer only to drop down in your legs.
“He’s been wanting to do this for so long, sweetheart, let him have a taste.” He moves your hair across the shoulder to kiss your neck. He knows this is a very easy way to make you lower your guard, it was one of your favorite places to feel him on your body. The numbness in your bones gradually decreases with every warm nibble he makes at your flesh.
You open your eyes wide when you feel your jeans unzip. Jooyeon gets you to stand up and you nervously pull them off, so close to Jiseok who’s sitting on his knees in anticipation that’s too obvious.
He couldn’t control his gaze as much as before. He follows the length of your legs - from your feet, kneecaps, to your plush thighs, that seem not so resistant as before. Instead of staying closed, they slowly open, revealing the dark violet color of your underwear.
“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl…” Your boyfriend traces a finger down to your bellybutton. “With the most delicious cunt,” he presses his middle finger hard exactly on your clit, causing you to hold your breath. “Time runs fast, if you want to get your dick inside, you better start eating,” he glares down at his friend, before pulling your panties, leaving them to hang around your ankles.
For Jiseok this is like a slap in the face. He would’ve never imagined that of all girls he knows, he would get to taste you - the main character in most of his fantasies. He twitches in his underwear as he completely removes you from your own.
“Excited?” Your boyfriend asks, braking him out of his trance and gives your bare pussy a harsh slap.
“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, wetting his lips.
Jooyeon watches with amusement the way he gulps while thirsting over the view. He can fuck you whenever he wants while his friend gets only an hour.
It takes you a second to realise this is really happening. When Jiseok goes in between your inner thighs and lets his flat tongue slide up your folds, you feel your brain shutting off.
He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t even give you a chance to get used to his unfamiliar mouth. He twirls his tongue up your clit, causing you to gasp over and over again. His jaw moves in a rush, as he’s trying to eat as much as he can from you, in case Jooyeon changes his mind. You can feel how you warm up inside from every harsh lick he leaves on you, each one getting stronger and only better than the last one. It forces your teeth to chew on your lips, repressing every sound that creeps up in your throat.
It doesn’t feel right to show how much you actually like this.
“Damn, he’s not playing,” Jooyeon cackles at Jiseok’s face digging harder into you, as he holds your legs apart. “But a slut like you must enjoy that, right?” He looks at your lips pressed desperately together, taking it as an answer.
Jiseok moves onto slurping greedily at your slickness in a way that makes you believe a single drop doesn’t get wasted. His on going muffled moans shoot vibrations through your core only adding to the already existing moisture. You were not the only one aware of the lewd squelching noises in the room, because you could feel the growing boner poking at you from behind. It means you’re really as wet as you feel, and it means Jooyeon knows it too.
Your cheeks flush as the need for more gradually builds up in your lower tummy, making you muddle over the thought of cumming in front of them. If Jiseok doesn’t stop soon it will be impossible to keep hiding your emotions, and you’re not sure what would that mean for you. Is this really what Jooyeon wants?
“Shit, you sound so pretty down there, kitten,” Jooyeon’s warm alcoholic breath kissess your face, as you press your tilted head in the crook of his neck. “Getting wetter, huh?”
He makes sure to follow carefully every little flinch of your body; how your chest now falls quicker than it did minutes ago. How your legs occassionaly make his hands shake, forcing him to tighten the grip around them. He’s impressed you made it this far without moaning, but also flattered.
Your legs drop to the floor at the same exact moment Jiseok pulls back from your pussy for the first time since he went down on you. He allows you to take a good look of his glistening face, as the stripes of your bra slip from your shoulders. The lust in his eyes becomes so apparent as the lingerie exposes your chest, that all of your doubts and insecurities begin to fade away. The immediate thought that runs into your mind from gazing at his seducing plump lips makes your heart skip a beat. How have you not noticed his attractiveness till now? You watch him take his slender fingers to his mouth, gathering all of the wetness you coated him with only to suck it off with ease. The provocativeness in his act makes your adrenaline rush go higher, but the unexpected words after it even more.
“Sweet,” he humms in a dreamy voice. “Just how I expected you to be.”
You swallow shyly, as if you were sucking on the sticky mess along with him. As much as you want to, you can’t deny it - he turns you on.
You jerk up from your seat as Jooyeon’s own fingers brush through your exposed nipples, stealing your attention away from Jiseok, who on the other hand uses the opportunity to pull you down a little, so he could draw in your entire cunt into his face.
“Fuck her hole with tongue, she loves that shit.”
With your sensitive perked up nipples being pulled on, and Jiseok’s experienced tongue moving in and out of you, it’s no use to resist anymore. You squeeze your eyes and let it out as if Jiseok’s not there at all.
“Ahh, that’s it,” your boyfriend smirks approvingly over your soft cries, tightly holding you in his lap. “Don’t hold back, dirty girl, I wanna see how big of a whore you can get. Let it all out for me.”
When he catches your fingers tugging on the sheets from the overwhelming amount of tongue fucking, he leaves your breasts and forces your wrists behind your back.
Meanwhile, Jiseok suddenly moves his tongue between your lips, slowly sliding his way up to your clit. He sucks on the swollen bud relentlessly, as he fills up your needy hole with two fingers. You arch your spine, while every twist makes your legs shake every two seconds in the air. You don’t realise you’re about to close them around his head from the sensational feeling until he stops you with his free hand, as he begins to aim at your sweet spot with the other - knuckles deep inside you.
It feels so good you could feel the room spinning without lifting your eyelids.
“Fuck, gonna cum any second now…” Jooyeon grunts, but his words could be barely heard from your moaning, that only gets louder. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.” The knuckles of his hands are almost white from keeping your wrists tightly together while your body squirms out of control because of another guy. His vision turns hazy, an effect from the mixture of arousal and alcohol flowing in his veins while Jiseok savours every second of your orgasm.
After the fingers curled up between your walls slow down, your body loosens up like it’s made of jelly. You rest your head on Jooyeon’s thigh, feeling lightheaded and out of breath while his palm strokes your scalp gently like it’s praising you.
“Time to fill you up, doll.” He says, finding your mouth with his fingers. You stick out your tongue feeling their familiar warm texture, as you realise that for the first time tonight his voice sounds softer. The moment you’re about to wrap your lips around them though, he pulls away.
You shift on the bed, not sure what exactly to do, while both of them unbuckle their pants.
“You’re not allowed to look at her face from now on, got it?” Jooyeon warns Jiseok who only nods, but also very clearly tries to hold back a chuckle as well. “I’m serious.”
“Got it.” Jiseok replies more earnestly, stroking his erected cock at the sight of you waiting on all fours in the middle of his bed. The flushed look of your spread cunt dripping down your skin, and clenching from thin air makes him so impatient, but he has to wait for Jooyeon to do the first move, or he risks ruining his chance.
You suck your bottom lip, as you watch Jooyeon posing fully naked in front of you. He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up.
“If I catch you looking anywhere else I’ll get very mad, kitten.”
You’re only able to nod at his threat.
“I know you enjoy acting like a slut, but you should know who you belong to.”
“I’m yours, Jooyeon,” you murmur weakly, tracing his thigh with one hand. You see the corners of his lips slid up, and you repeat the same words again. Slower this time, letting the effect sink under his skin.
While you have this moment with him, you could feel Jiseok’s presence getting closer from behind, and it makes your skin burn with a new type of desire you haven’t experienced before. It makes your pussy tingle from excitement, as you’re aware this isn’t something you should be feeling. The second his palm touches your waist you shiver from eagerness to feel him entering inside. You still haven’t recovered from your first release, but you don’t care.
Your nails dig into your boyfriend’s flesh, as you expand to meet Jiseok’s cock. Everything happens so easily, so smoothly from the way you got slippery wet beforehand. The immediate pleasure that shoots through your body makes your jaw drop immensely, but Jooyeon makes sure to close it by grabbing your face roughly with his big hand. He squeezes harshly, and you couldn’t believe the amount of arousal this brought you.
“Enjoy this while it lasts, doll,” he stares down at you while soft mewls drip through your squished lips, as Jiseok glides in and out. “You get to whore out, because I let you to. Don’t fuckin’ forget that.” His erection twiches at your pretty sounds, leaking precum from the sweet pressure.
What you’re doing right now is scandalous, and you would’ve never thought that you would agree to something like it in your whole life, but seeing how turned on Jooyeon gets, makes you want to go all the way.
“O-oh my god,” you moan through hitched breaths from Jiseok’s hips now thrusting into a much quickening pace.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, slut?” Jooyeon asks.
“Ngh-h, y-yes…” you admit, not able to look at him for too long from embarrassment.
“I knew it,” he grins, gazing at your pretty face with smeared makeup all over it. How it immediately blushes from his words. “I know you so well, my doll. Better than anyone.”
Your head drops down from neck pain when he lets go, leaving it to move back and forth from the pounding. You squel from swallowing Jiseok’s cock even deeper now, taking every new hit he sends to your g-spot. The skin around your waist burns from his fingertips gripping harder, as he aims for steady and more intense thrusts. Nasty cussing and deep moans keep flying from his mouth, blending with your own sounds, and you can’t help, but shut your eyes and hold on Jooyeon for support.
“Fuck, look at you already passing out,” he chuckles, removing your hands from himself.
You’re just about to adjust when an unexpected slap lands on your face and for a brief moment you lose all sorts of orientation. Your upper body sinks into the mattres meanwhile your toes curl at Jiseok’s continuous thrusting.
“Eyes up, slut.” Jooyeon demands, as he wraps a fist around his base, waiting for you to face him.
The only reason you’re able to keep yourself on your elbows is because your hole gets emptied, allowing you to catch your breath. You feel it twitching miserably from the sudden absence.
“Shit, she feels so good,” Jiseok traces a hand along your spine, before going back to your ass, giving it a loud smack. “I can do this all night,” he slaps harsher, earning a squeal from you.
You’re so tempted to turn around, but you shouldn’t.
While he plays with your cheeks Jooyeon gets closer, causing his flushed tip to brush at your drooling lips.
“Wider.” He grumbles at your pathetic attempt to open your mouth. It already hurts enough from moaning so much.
His head falls back, as you take more and more, freeing him of some of the tension. Your tongue doesn’t stop pleasing his thickness, as you move further, winning yourself a few praises by managing to take all of his length.
“Good job, sweetheart, take all of it for me..” he groans, not able to hold back from bucking his hips up anymore. He wants to feel as much as possible of your warm throat.
You concentrate on moving your mouth around him, keeping his pace, but Jiseok becomes a distraction. You sense his fingers moving to your folds, teasing, before gathering some of the fluids. He catches you off guard, when you realise he uses them as lube to massage your tiny asshole while you blow your boyfriend. Your stomach twirls from the new burst of arousal. Jooyeon has never done this to you.
When Jiseok catches you whining softly, he decides to add a little more pressure, keeping the circles on the sensitive spot going.
The overstimulating feeling makes you slow down your sucking, and you end up with only your boyfriend’s leaking head inside your mouth. The circles are getting addictive, and not enough at the same time.
Once Jooyeon catches that he gives your cheek another slap, that stings for a little longer this time.
“You’re slacking,” he complains, and you instantly swallow him whole again.
“Have you ever fucked her ass?” Jiseok asks, sliding a small portion of his index finger, already aware of what the answer is going to be.
As you help yourself with your fist, you accidentally grip the exposed base of Jooyeon’s cock a bit harsher than you’re supposed to when you feel the finger twist around, streching you, and caressing your nerves.
Jooyeon hisses from the pain, but a part of him certainly got turned on.
“No,” he admits dryly.
“I think she’d like it.” Jiseok plays with the tight hole that squeezes half of his finger so nicely, that it leads to him automatically fantasising another threesome in the future. With you being filled up both ways.
Jooyeon chuckles when you spit him out to free a drawed out whimper.
“We’ll try it out, right baby? Just the two of us.” He asks, shifting up to fill your drooling mouth again. “You’re a good little slut who loves getting filled up after all.”
Jiseok removes his finger slowly, watching how the hole clenches desperately afterwards. Lucent mess drips between your cheeks only increasing his cravings. He couldn’t help, but wonder what other things you’re probably missing out on in bed, as his hand crawls up your back again.
You wrap your lips around Jooyeon’s red leaking tip, sucking just how he likes it, while your skin shivers from the warm wandering palm. The sheets under you soak with spit, as you go further, speeding up the pace to get him to finish. When you welcome the head back into your throat, you hold for a moment, preparing to spit it out in the next few second for a quick break. However, just when you try to pull away, Jiseok’s hand appears around your neck, pushing you all the way back down.
“Need a hand?” He asks in your ear, as he keeps your head down with Jooyeon’s emphasised tip stabbing your throat.
Your forehead sinks into Jooyeon’s lower abdomen, as you get teary eyed, dripping on his skin. You grabble onto him for support when the strong grip begins to move you up and down his hard length.
“F-fuck, love that dirty mouth so much..” Your boyfriend sighs, as you make his balls harder by coating him with saliva, gags and pleading noises. He rests back on his hands, watching like hypnotised the way his friend takes full control over your mouth.
With his other hand Jiseok takes your tangled hair up in order for Jooyeon to enjoy the sight of the visible lump in your throat, swelling from his pulsing cock. Seconds later that feel more like hours he drags you up, letting you cough your lungs out, before forcing you down again, causing Jooyeon to almost break down from pleasure.
You can swear you hear them exchange words, but you have no idea what they are, cause the only thing on your mind is how badly you need to breathe. Both of them throb from arousal, as they continue to bully your inflamed throat with never ending pushes. And despite the painful suffocation they bring you, you enjoy every moment of it.
Without a warning, Jiseok shoves his soaked cock back inside you, taking a pathetically sounding scream from your stuffed mouth. After he leaves your neck alone, you feel a shooting pain flying through your body, and all of it comes from him forcing his dick mercilessly in and out of you. You lose control and choke, turning Jooyeon’s low moans into rising wails.
“F-fuck, fuck, just like that..” your boyfriend whines, pressing your resisting head down his stimulated erection. “Take it like a true slut, baby.”
The lewd noises echo through the walls, clashing with the strong skin on skin slapping, that’s like music to Jooyeon’s ears. All sounds coming from the party outside the door are blocked out from his mind, leaving room only for what slips out of your mouth and drenched stretched out pussy. They pull his peak closer and closer, until it shatters.
You don’t know how or when, but Jooyeon’s cock is out of your mouth, and instead it’s spraying your whole face with ropes of hot cum. You gasp for air while also fight the urge to cry, as keeping yourself steady for him becomes torture with Jiseok chasing his own orgasm from behind. The thick seed sticks all over your skin, dripping down your neck and lips. Your jaw is stiff, your throat burns, your cheeks are puffy from tears, but Jooyeon is moaning from pure bliss, and that’s all you comprehend. Everything before that is a blur.
“F-fuck… so damn tight..” Jiseok groans behind your shoulder, leaving scarlet patches on your hips. He slams into you like he doesn’t care if it wrecks your insides or not, causing the sweet burning pain to tighten the overwhelming knot in your tummy.
You look up at the ceiling when your throat gets grabbed on from behind.
“God, the things I’d do to you if it was just the two of us..” He whispers in your ear. You can feel the mischievous smirk he speaks through, it leaves the same effect that a single lick from his tongue would’ve left you. “Hope you think of me next time he fucks you, sweetie.” He coos in quietly in your ear. “Bet he doesn’t eat pussy like I do, hm?”
You’re too perplexed from his bold words to do anything except listen and hope the way they make you feel doesn’t show through your face.
“I can eat ass even better than that.”
“P-please…” you could only sob in response. Your arched spine stiffens with pain, meanwhile you feel the burning sensation clearly as ever. “Please, let m-me cum, please..”
“Look at your whore begging me so nicely..” Jiseok scoffs, glancing at his friend who’s watching with his head tilted against the wall. But when your gummy walls grip his cock harder, the mocking sound turns into a deep moan.
Jooyeon shuffles in his place, peeling off his back from the wall. He takes a better look of his cum sliding down your delicious neckline, as he reaches between your legs.
“Should we let her?” Jiseok asks before scrunching his lips. His thrusts become slower and sloppier, but they don’t loose any of their strength.
Your boyfriend grins at your pleading eyes, that could barely stay open, as he stimulates your clit in addition to Jiseok’s tip hitting rough at your cervix. He nods at his friend and makes his slim fingers move quicker.
“You can cum now, doll.” He tells you, not able to look away from your dirty face. He sighs, feeling his weak cock trying to get hard again. It was expected, you look so hot covered in a total mess, while getting fucked in front of his eyes. Jiseok is going to think of this every time he looks at you from now on, and that excited him even more.
“Kiss me, please…” You beg, making Jooyeon lean in and slide his tongue into your dry mouth without hesitation.
His quick fingers work your clit, forcing your orgasm to come as soon as possible. His tongue plays with yours through erotic deep kisses that steal the few breaths you got left from Jiseok’s hands squeezing your throat.
When you crumble from the intense heat that quickly follows from the knot finally snapping, Jooyeon’s mouth swallows your mix of moans and whines. They make his skin run hot, and his blood boil in a way that could not compare to any alcoholic drink he’s ever had.
After you turn around to face Jiseok you can feel his words from earlier still lingering somewhere inside your mind. From his fixated gaze you get the feeling it’s the same for him too. His abs clench vividly, and when you go lower you see the view of his thick cock which shape you got so familiar with, filling his fist.
You surprise yourself when without even giving it a second thought, you lean down, allowing him to release on your face.
“You’re so nasty, sweetie..” He tilts your chin up. “Letting me cum over your boyfriend’s mess on that pretty face,” he speaks excited, while you look at him back through your tired hazy eyes. “I was gonna paint your sexy ass, but I like this idea too.”
Seconds later, Jooyeon watches his friend’s fluids landing on top of your face; some of it getting caught in your hair. They mix with his own turning your lovely features into a sinful mess he wants to capture forever. Without saying a word he jumps from the bed leaving you and Jiseok staring at each other with both your chests falling up and down in sync.
As you stay still, feeling all of the cum sinking under your skin, you follow your boyfriend’s figure. He returns with a playful smile and his phone pointing right at your face. You blink at him stunned.
Jiseok immediately claps approvingly, it’s like Jooyeon reads his mind sometimes. He was just thinking the same thing.
As many people have told them before, they’re the same person just split into two different bodies.
“Smile, gorgeous,” your boyfriend says with a cheeky grin, and you obey.
As you always do.
! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed
#— writing: xdinary heroes#dinna’s holiday special 2023#xdinary heroes smut#xdinary heroes hard thoughts#xdinary heroes hard hours#xdh smut#jooyeon smut#xh hard hours#kwak jiseok smut#jiseok smut#gaon smut#jooyeon hard thoughts#xdinary heroes x reader#gaon hard thoughts#jiseok hard thoughts#jooyeon x reader#jiseok x reader#gaon x reader#xdh x reader
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Its close to the holiday season so this is on my mind but it always baffles me when families say their children (whether adult or not) are "hard to get gifts for."
What do you mean theyre hard to get gifts for?
And it usually boils down to not that child being actually indecisive, the child probably knows what theyd like, but now that they no longer write santa letters families decide they need Different Stuff because theyre No Longer Baby.
And i know theres going to be people saying "we just give candy" or "we send each other wishlists" which is FAIR and healthy to do. Communication is a must!! But thats not what I mean. What I mean is families stop listening to the childs hobbies.
There are parents who see their children playing games and suddenly decide thats toxic and put a boundary that theyll never buy their child a game. Or anything to do with games. There are people who decide that a persons infatuation with soft toys or artistic dolls is immature so dont you dare participate in their collecting hobby. There are families who hear people say "this is my hobby" and decide that its cringe/immature/stupid/worthless/disgusting and ignore anything to do with it.
And of course... If the person doesnt match their assigned gender, then suddenly the family scrambles for what gifts theyre supposed to get for their afab niece that doesnt include jewellery or a perfume or a dress, or they still get it and the receiving party has to deal with the fact that their families last resort is gendered products- even if they dont identify as such. The family sees it as being picky and not knowing what they want, surely THEY know better.
And its. You know. After years or such treatment the child is simply going to start shrugging instead of actually saying what theyd like or what they had their eyes on. This 70 buck game couldve been a nice easy gift, but its not because the person has already bought it because they know no one else is willing to consider it a gift. Theyre not going to wish for a limited edition plush or figurine from their favourite series because its seen as cringe so they already bought it themselves too. Theyre not going to wish for a comic or manga or self published stories.
And then theyre silent and shrug. And the families relationships suffer too because theyve ignored every hobby this person has. The person that has been othered and considered weird and picky. The person whos hiding. Always hiding and masking.
And theres an allegory for queerness and neurodivergence here, but thats for another day
#holiday season#gift giving#queer#living queer#i dont even know what to tag this at#im tired of seeing people being treated lile this ykno
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S2: The Bad Batch (3)
Chapter Three: Undercover
Gif by @kamino-coruscant
Hunter x femaleJedi!reader
Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.
Chapter Summary: A mission assigned to you by Cid sees you and Hunter make some grounds in your relationship.
Masterlist for S1
<Previous Chapter
Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)
Chapter Warnings: Not a Crosshair episode (his later episodes will be covered though)! No show plot here, Cid being Cid, bad flirting/flirting to manipulate, having to deal with unwanted advances, mentions of drinking, swearing, suggestive dialogue, semi-public moment of PDA (kissing in an alleyway), mild panic attack description, unwelcomed pet names, welcomed pet names (honey), protectiveness from both these two, doubts and insecurities coming to the surface, Hunter gets a bit carried away (but is a respectful king and stops), angst, fluff and feelings, hurt/comfort, implied mention of Hunter's advanced senses, SMUT (heavy kissing, biting/marking, non explicit descriptions of handjobs and unprotected PinV (be safe in reality please), mentions of oral (f) receiving and fingering, teasing, Hunter doesn't know how to be vulnerable but reader takes care of him this time round, body and general worship)
Word Count: 6.9K
Author's notes: Okay it's here! Apologies for how long it took, I really did struggle with this one but I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you @keep-calm-and-drink-caf cause your advice was very helpful! And thank everyone for your patience! I am on holiday with the fam so Ch4 may be a bit of a longer wait to but I will try to find some sneaky writing time lol
Things were peaceful in Cid’s parlour. Cid had reluctantly let you guys have fewer missions since Tech was out of commission, but you could tell she was waiting for the day he made a full recovery, a day that Tech had assured the rest of you would be very soon. Echo and Wrecker were at the bar and your head rested on Hunter’s shoulder- a more comfortable feat since his armour was off- and the two of you watched Omega and Tech play a game of Dejarik. The peace was soon broken though by a recognisable voice.
“I got it!” Lyra announced as she came through the door, case in hand.
You lifted your head and looked quizzically over at her. “Got what? What are you doing here, Lyra? Not that I’m not happy to see you but…”
Lyra stopped short. “Cid didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Oh uh… I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Your next mission. I’m tired of you lot just lazing around here. Time you made some cash.”
You all turned to face Cid as she came back into the main parlour from her office.
“Tech’s not-” Hunter started to say.
“He’s not essential. I’ve found a mission he can help with from here. It just relies on her.” Cid interrupted and she pointed at you.
“Me?” You replied, crossing your arms.
“I can come back…” Lyra said uneasily.
“No, we need that. I didn’t pay you for a social visit.” Cid said sharply.
Lyra walked over to you and handed you the case, an apologetic smile on her face.
You opened the case and stared at the bundle of fabric, shoes, and jewellery with suspicion. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing?” You lifted the dress out and your eyes widened.
“Cid, what is this mission?” Hunter asked warily.
“My client needs some intel on the… business activities of a man on the other side of the city. He’s having a party tonight and you’re the way in.” Cid said to you before she addressed the others. “You lot aren’t even needed. It’s easy money.”
“No.” Hunter replied instantly.
“Yeah, sorry, not really sold on that.” You said as you pushed the case away. “My social skills in that department aren’t exactly well developed.”
Cid just rolled her eyes. “All you need to do it get his attention and download his records. Clearly, you got some skill in that area.” She added snidely as she looked from you to Hunter.
You glared at her.
Cid raised her hands to pacify you. “Look, you got the gear right here and there are easy credits to be taken. Goggles can give you something, so he doesn’t even need to go. Right?” She directed her question to Tech.
“Technically… yes.” He replied reluctantly. He knew you well enough to tell you weren’t thrilled with the idea and the look on Hunter’s face also told him that he wasn’t either.
“Come on. I’d owe ya.” Cid pleaded. “You’d be doing us all a solid.”
You sighed heavily and ignored Hunter’s head shake. “Alright. Fine. Lyra, care to help me out with this get up?”
“You got it!” Lyra took the case from you and the two of you went into the back to change.
--
You shed your limited armour and got to work.
“I really am sorry about this. Cid just told me she needed you to look the part, she never mentioned the fact you didn’t know. I shouldn’t have assumed you did.” Lyra said as she kept her back turned.
“It’s classic Cid. She only told you what she deemed to be the necessary information. That often turns out to be manipulated truth or the bare minimum so don’t worry about it.” You appeased. You finished pulling on the dress. You glanced down and analysed your appearance. “Fuck me, Lyra. Exactly what part am I supposed to be playing?”
Lyra turned around and took you in. The floor length dark red fabric suited and fitted you perfectly and the slit was just high enough to grab attention but keep room for eager discovery. “Okay, I know there was a bit of misinformation but damn I’m good at my job.”
“I want to catch his eye, not an STD.” You adjusted the straps self-consciously. It was a far cry from Jedi robes or civilian clothes and armour. You had seen the get up senators would don, and you were sure even they wouldn't go for something this bold.
“Well, I should hope actually sleeping with him is off the table. Plus, looking good isn’t an open invitation.”
You heaved an irritated sigh. “I know that and of course sleeping with him isn’t going to happen, but that’s not the point. No doesn’t always mean no to some people.” You said gravely as you passed her the necklace.
“It’s a good thing you know a thing or two about fighting then.” Lyra provided by way of comfort as she clasped it. “Plus, there’s no way your man is going to let anything happen to you if it gets bad.”
Her words, in a strange way, did reassure you. You knew you could handle yourself, regardless of the situation and yes, there would be no way Hunter would let you go it alone on this sort of mission, but you hadn’t realised that would be such an obvious conclusion for an outsider. “What makes you think he’s coming with me?”
Lyra just paused what she was doing and gave you a look that screamed ‘seriously?’
You half smiled. You figured the two of you weren’t as subtle as you thought when you were in the more public domain. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You look the part. Embrace the role and you’ll be just fine.”
“This just isn’t something I’m used to.” You mumbled as you continued to fiddle with the fabric.
“Didn’t you ever have to attend any balls or play dress up as a kid?” She asked as she batted your hands away.
“It was never on the cards for me.” You muttered. You still hadn’t told her the full extent of your past and you intended to keep it that way. For her sake more than anything.
“Hmm well that’s unfortunate cause you’d fit right in. Final touch.” Lyra added as she handed you a small bag. She looked you up and down. “Anyone who doesn’t do a double take when they see you is an idiot. This is going to be your easiest mission yet.”
“I can only hope.” You muttered as you made your way back out.
“Your sergeant is going to struggle to control himself.” Lyra teased as she followed you.
“Shut up.”
--
“Oh wow! You look really pretty!” Omega exclaimed as she tore her gaze away from the Dejarik board.
Hunter, who had replaced Tech for the next match, turned around at her words and he practically gulped. Pretty was an understatement. You damn near took his breath away and he couldn’t find the words to express how beautiful you looked.
Wrecker sent a playful wolf whistle in your direction, giving you an encouraging smile and thumbs up as you looked over at him.
Echo nodded his head in casual agreement at the sentiments expressed already.
“Thank you.” You said, a tad bashfully before you wandered over to where Tech was sitting. “What do you have for me, Tech?”
“Here.” Tech said, not looking up from his datapad as he handed you the drive.
“Thanks.” You walked back over to stand by Lyra.
“What do ya think Sergeant?” Lyra called over to Hunter.
You’d been avoiding his stare for a reason but now you couldn’t help but look over to him as you heard Lyra address him. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the way Hunter was staring at you and suddenly this mission seemed very low on the priority list and finding a private space became your brain’s main focus.
Hunter cleared his throat. “You’re perfect.” The quiet awe infused utterance was all he could manage because anything else would be inappropriate for general audiences.
“Told you.” Lyra whispered as she nudged your arm. The guy was staring at you like he was willing to get on his knees and worship you the second you gave the word.
You were too entranced by his gaze to pay her words any real attention.
“Good luck.” Lyra said as a farewell.
“Thanks for your help, Lyra.” You said distantly as you registered her leave your side, but your eyes never left Hunter’s.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re wearing a dress, big whoop. Can we get to the important part?” Cid said impatiently before she brought up a hologram.
Cid’s bluntness gave you the required shock you needed to focus on the task at hand. “Who’s the target?” You asked as you crossed your arms and stared at the image of the man.
“His name is Taryn Franco. He’s in the spice smuggling business and is doing remarkably well despite the Imperial presence in the regular smuggling channels. Your job is to find out how he’s manging to do so well.” Cid directed as she brought up a map of the location.
“You want me to get his shipping routes?” You clarified as you studied the map. It really couldn’t be that simple.
“Yup. Told you it was an easy job.”
“I’m waiting for the catch.”
“The catch is you gotta make him notice you, other than that, the only thing you need to do is a bit of downloading.”
“Once you get a visual on the records, insert that drive and you’ll have the necessary information in two minutes.” Tech added.
“Got it.” You replied as you slipped the datastick into your bag. “How are we getting in? I’m assuming we’re not on the guest list.”
“You’ll have to figure that one out.” Cid said frankly.
You huffed out an irritated sigh. “An easy job would mean we had a way in in the first place.” You griped.
“Be resourceful, it’s not my problem. You better get going.” Cid said dismissively.
“Be safe!” Omega said as she gave you a hug goodbye.
Tech, Echo, and Wrecker waved you off, echoing Lyra’s message of good luck.
You didn’t even need to ask him. As soon as you walked away from Cid, Hunter stood up and followed you out the door and together the two of you made your way to the Marauder, the tension between you palpable and ready to snap at any moment. You just needed to keep it together for a little while longer.
--
“We can pretend I’m your guard as you look for the target. That way I can keep a look out.” Hunter said as you both walked down the ramp of the ship and moved towards the building all lit up and the one that had music blaring from the door and windows.
You grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a nearby alley. “You can’t come in with me.”
“Why not?” Hunter asked with a frown.
“Because the way you’re looking at me right now is making me want to ditch this whole thing and go back to the ship.” You said as you let out a shaky breath.
Hunter really didn’t see the issue with that. He knew you both weren’t enthusiastic about this. “Let’s go then.” He uttered as his hand traced the slit of your dress.
“Hunter.” You chastised as you pushed his hand away. You were having to use a considerable amount of self-restraint. It would be so easy to just blow this whole thing off and Hunter was making it a very tempting idea. He somehow looked even better without his armour on tonight. “Cid’ll kill us, and we need the money. I’ll be quick. In and out, there won’t be trouble but if you enter with me, that’ll make my job ten times harder because it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out our feelings towards each other.”
Hunter nodded in tentative agreement. He knew he would struggle to see you in this environment, and he knew you were right, but he wasn’t going to let you go it alone. He’d go insane. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll come in after you and keep my distance. You need someone to watch your back. ‘No trouble’ isn’t exactly how our missions tend to go.” He offered as a compromise.
“Fine.” You agreed. “I’ll deal with the bouncer to get us in, so we better get moving. Sooner we’re in, the sooner we can leave. And then we can have some time to ourselves.” You added with a sly grin as you nudged past him.
Hunter caught the top of your arm. “If you take less than 30 minutes, I’ll finally let you use the scarf.” He whispered, his lips ghosting behind the shell of your ear.
The tension chord had well and truly snapped. You released a heavy breath. You don’t play fair. With that, you turned your head and kissed him, and you both groaned in relief.
Hunter was quick to assert his dominance as he pushed you against the wall, his hand coming to rest behind your head so as to protect it before he moved it to your waist. Your appreciative moan only helped him deepen the kiss.
The kiss was desperate, each of you hungry for more but you both were just about resisting the urge to give into what your bodies really wanted to do but the longer the two of you kissed, the harder it got to defy.
It was your hands that betrayed you first. Yours had started to wander down Hunter’s chest whilst the other tangled itself in his hair. His had stayed on your waist and the other had slipped under the fabric and had started to caress the inside of your thigh and was steadily moving upward. So, you really had to pull back before you did get too carried away.
You both let out disgruntled sighs as you broke the kiss first.
“I am going to get that information so fast.” You replied breathlessly as Hunter let you go. You knew that moment was a bad idea as it only served to rile you up more, but you really couldn’t help yourself. You smoothed your dress down to regain your composure.
Hunter focused on getting his breathing under control. “Be careful. I’ll see you in there.”
--
“Invitation?” The bouncer asked as he held his hand out as you approached.
You channelled the Force and covertly waved your hand. “You don’t need to see my invitation.”
“I don’t need to see your invitation.” He replied, his voice distant.
“Me and the man that’ll come after me can enter without one.”
“You and the man that’ll come after you can enter without one.” He replied faintly.
You opened the door. You’re good to go, Sarge. With that, you stepped inside where the sound of music and people’s voices talking over it greeted you.
Hunter made to move once he got confirmation from you that he was in the clear.
“Have a good evening, sir.” The guard said with a nod.
Hunter didn’t reply, he just wandered in and set about finding you.
--
Maker it was loud in here. And hot. And it reeked of sweat. Hunter thought as he pushed his way past people in his search for you. He was very uncomfortable, everything was too loud, including his own heartbeat, and he knew his breathing was growing unsteady. He found a slightly quieter corner and he took some calming breaths as he scanned the area for you.
--
It hadn’t taken you long to find to find your host. He was at the bar eye-fucking anyone that walked past. Before you could make your move, you sensed Hunter’s Force signature, but it was filled with stress and anxiety. You projected your own calm onto him. Honey, listen to me. I know it’s loud and I know it’s crowded but focus on your breathing, focus on my voice. Breathe in and count to 5 and breath out and count to 5. We’ll be out of here soon. If you need to leave, you can, I’ll find you when I’m done. You had to fight the urge to go find him and you wished with all your heart that you could comfort him properly, but this was the best you could manage.
You made yourself focus on the job at hand and swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise in your throat at the thought of having to interact with Taryn, but you knew it needed to be done. You straightened your back and channelled an alternate version of yourself that would be able to succeed at this.
You slid into the space next to Taryn and pretended to analyse the choices behind the bar. When you felt his eyes on you, you turned to face him. “So many choices, care to help a girl out? You look like a man who knows a good drink.” You simpered.
Taryn looked you up and down and he liked what he saw. “You got a good eye, doll. Stick with me tonight and I’ll make sure you get only the best. Both in drink, and in company.”
The look he’d given you was the same one he’d been giving everyone else tonight and you very nearly left right then and there but you needed the credits. You forced yourself to lay a hand on his arm. “How could I refuse such an offer?”
He shouted an order over to the droid behind the bar. He handed you a drink and held his own glass up and took a hold of your hip and tugged you closer to him. “Cheers, baby.”
Biting back your grimace, you gave him a fake smile and clinked your glass with his. This would definitely be unpleasant, but it would be very easy to get what you wanted.
--
Hunter released a deep breath. Your words had helped him calm down and he was ready to wait it out but now he was having to keep it together for different reasons. He had spotted you at the bar and had to witness Taryn’s hand crawling all over your thigh, squeezing it and tracing a path from your knee right up the slit of the dress and Hunter knew you and your body well enough to tell that, despite your apparent enthusiasm, you were hating every touch. He only hoped you didn’t have to put up with it for much longer. In addition to this, Taryn kept having people come over to talk to him and each one gave you an admiring stare and would start chatting to you too and you made talking to them look so easy. If he didn’t know you as well as he did, he would’ve assumed you were a regular here.
--
All the interruptions had been driving you crazy. You needed to get this done before someone else came over and you had to feign interest in their seedy business activities and entertain their creepy flirtations. You waved off the newest arrival before you turned your attention back to Taryn. “So, I keep hearing from you and all these people about how well you’re doing, and I must say it’s very impressive. From what I’ve heard, the Empire has been making people’s operations quite difficult. How are you managing to avoid them?” You asked, fake in your admiring tone.
“Well, when you know the right people and have a great business brain like mine, it’s very easy.” He boasted.
“Hmm handsome and smart. How’d I get so lucky?” You flirted.
“Wearing a dress like that certainly helps.”
You resisted the very strong urge to roll your eyes in disgust. “So, can I see how that business brain of yours operates? I’d sure love a peek of your records.”
Taryn shot you a quizzical look. “Why would you want to see my transactions?”
You had to think quickly so you went for the reason you figured would make him forget any lingering questions in his head. “It really gets me going.” You murmured in his ear whilst your hand toyed with the lapel of his jacket. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer.
“Say no more, babydoll.” He downed his drink and grabbed your hand and led you to his back office.
--
To say you were underwhelmed by what you saw would be an understatement. All he did was bribe certain Imperial officials and put his shipments out on the days they were on shift.
“How’s that for a turn on?” He said, mouthing at you neck whilst his hands started to pull your dress up.
You cringed away from his touch. “Before we do that, can you get me another drink?”
You saw the flash of annoyance on his face, and you figured he wasn’t used to people refusing his advances all that often, but you needed him out. “I’ll make it worth your while.” You murmured, batting your eyelashes.
Taryn practically sprinted out the room.
You wiped your neck in revulsion and got to work. “Great business brain my ass.” You said to yourself as you inserted the drive, and it began its download.
--
You managed to get out without being spotted by Taryn and you found Hunter in no time.
“You okay?” Hunter asked instantly, breathing in relief as he saw you in front of him once more.
“Feeling gross but I got the information and yeah, I’m okay. Are you?” You asked.
“He didn’t force-”
“No, I dealt with any attempt, and he didn’t get far.” You replied quickly, not wanting to even let his mind wander down that path. “Are you okay?” You asked again.
“Yeah, I got better after hearing you.”
“I’m sorry about this whole thing. I know it wasn’t easy on you.”
“Or you.” Hunter added. “You were put in an uncomfortable situation and did what you had to do. You were looking out for the squad by doing this. You don’t have to apologise for that. I’m just sorry this was the kinda job you were handed, it wasn’t fair.”
You gave him a grateful smile. “Wanna get out of here?”
Hunter nodded, but he wasn’t able to shake the voice in his head that was bringing up every illogical doubt as weaved his hand in yours and together, you snuck out the party and headed back to the ship.
--
You had scarcely boarded the Marauder when Hunter backed you into the wall of the hallway and began to kiss you. You dropped your bag that contained the stolen information and let out a surprised gasped which he used as a chance to intensify it. You were lightheaded when he pulled away, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover since he lifted your thigh and slotted himself in between your legs and started to kiss along your jaw and neck.
He breathed you in but the things that made you you weren’t there anymore. They were tainted with something wrong and unfamiliar, and he couldn’t stand it.
The way he nipped at your jaw and neck stung and his grip on you was sore and not the pleasurable kind. It told you there was more to this than simple possessiveness. Something was bothering him. The atmosphere between you now was different to how it was before you had entered the party. “Hunter, stop for a minute.” You said through a gasp as his fingers dug into your thigh in a way that was sure to leave bruises- and not the good kind- if he continued to do it.
Hunter stopped immediately and pulled away from you. Seeing the concern in your eyes snapped him out of whatever mood he was in. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” You reassured him quickly. “But what’s going on? That was… different. You don’t usually get like that.”
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry.” He went to step away from you.
You assumed things had gone too far with Taryn. You grabbed his hand and tugged him back towards you. “He wasn’t going to get far. He doesn’t even hold a candle to you. I didn’t mean the things I said to him. I don’t understand-”
“It wasn’t just him.” Hunter interrupted quietly as his hand fell to your waist.
“What are you talking about?” You asked softly, running your hand through the hair at the nape of his neck to comfort him.
“Everyone there was looking at you. Everyone. And you fit there. You looked like you belonged. Not with criminals.” He clarified hastily as he saw your brow furrow. “But with people that have something to offer that isn’t just scraping by from one job to the next. And I think it all got too much. You- You could have anyone you wanted. You could have a life for yourself and instead you chose this. You chose us. You chose me. I guess… I guess I just struggle sometimes believing you’re still here. But it’s nothing you’ve done; I just can’t get the voice in my head to shut up and it’s not your fault or your issue. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.” He turned away from you.
Your heart went out to him. You knew it would have taken a lot for him to admit that. So often he was a sergeant first and person with real emotions second. He rarely let his guard down like this. Clearly, your conversation after the last mission didn’t soothe all the insecurities that had built. You knew Crosshair leaving would have left scars, but you didn’t think they ran this deep. You cupped the side of his face and caressed your thumb across his cheekbone. “Well, I’m glad I seem to possess such an acting talent because I was fighting every instinct to not show my disgust at the people there.” You said lightly before you continued in a more serious tone. “Hunter, I am with you 100%, I don’t even think about what my life would be like if I didn’t meet you guys or if I didn’t fall in love with you because it gets too upsetting.” You pulled him in for a hug and held him close. “People leaving doesn’t mean you failed or missed something, sometimes people make decisions that hurt but the great thing about choice is that it can also leave room for future change, you just have to be patient.” You soothed.
He knew what you were saying about yourself was true and he could only hope that what you were saying about his brother was also true. “I love you.” Hunter murmured into your neck. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. I love you too and that’s not going to change.”
Hunter met your eyes once more.
You placed a delicate kiss on to his lips before you pulled away and rubbed your thumb tenderly across his jaw. “Now, to shut that voice up, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Hunter tilted his head at you.
“First, I’m going to take a shower which you are going to join me for.” You crooned as you pushed back part of the scarf and gently bit the skin by his pulse point and sucked a bruise into the skin.
Hunter stifled his groan but his hold on you tightened.
“Then...” You kissed along his jaw, pausing before you reached his lips. “I’m going to both show and tell you all the things that make me happy that I get to call you mine.” You whispered before you kissed him. It lasted for a few minutes before you broke away for air.
“Sounds good to me.” Hunter rasped as he got his breath back.
You smiled at him and began the process of undressing him, a task you took great pleasure and care in before you slipped off your dress and the two of you made your way to the refresher.
--
It wasn’t a completely innocent shower, he still had to work his emotions out, but he was back to his usual self in that regard, and it wasn’t lost on you that the marks he’d left on your thighs and neck were in the places that Taryn had touched you. When he’d used his mouth and his fingers to bring you that sweet release, not once but twice, you’d decided to wrap things up in there. You cleaned each other up and after you turned off the water, you grabbed his hand and led him out the refresher. You didn’t bother to dry off and neither did he. You tenderly pushed him down onto your bunk, so he was sitting but you made no move to follow just yet. Instead, you took him in, and the way he looked had you weak at the knees. Droplets of water were scattered across his tanned skin that were just begging to be kissed away, and his dark hair fell flawlessly around his face and the necklace you had given him sat just past his collarbone. “You’re the one who’s perfect.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hunter swallowed heavily. “Well, genetics had a helping hand.” He kidded awkwardly as he felt himself growing warm under the intensity of your stare and your words didn’t help. In these particular situations, it was usually him who was the attention giver. This was a new, more vulnerable position for him to be in and it wasn’t one he was used to. But he trusted you and that’s what really mattered here. He reached for you.
Sensing some unease, you let him pull you onto his lap. Your hands found his shoulders whilst his cradled the side of your neck and your waist. You brought your lips, so they were mere inches from his. “Do you know you only have to walk into a room, and I’m left thinking when I’ll have the next chance to be alone with you?”
A low groan left Hunter’s throat and he made the decision to close the remaining distance between you.
Your hands moved to tangle themselves in his damp locks and your slick bodies and lips moved together in perfect sync, the passion and intensity between you never faltered. You only removed yourself to get air, but you didn’t leave him wanting. You pulled on his hair slightly, so his head fell back and more of his neck was exposed to you.
“You did take less than 30 minutes today…” Hunter managed to choke out as you licked away the water on the side of his neck and nipped at the skin.
You smirked to yourself and trailed your lips softly across his collarbone. “Someone’s eager. I’m reserving that for a later date. I told you; we’re doing things differently tonight.” With that, you nudged him to lie on his back and you reached your hand between you. Your mouth hovered above his and you savoured the short, sharp breaths that left him at your ministrations. Focus on my voice. Focus on my touch. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me. You need me to stop, tell me and I will, okay?
Hunter nodded.
So as things weren’t going to be over before you had said all you needed to, you were ensuring that your movements were enough to satisfy any longing he was experiencing, but it wasn’t enough to fully satisfy him yet. His mildly frustrated grunts and the way his hips were trying to buck into your touch told you though that he wasn’t quite getting the patience memo yet. You pressed your mouth against his. “Ssshh.” You ordered softly. “I got you.”
Hunter looked into your eyes, and he saw something in them that he knew was reflected in his every time he looked at you. The loving way you were looking at him had something so pure and unfiltered behind it. He took a deep breath and relaxed under your touch.
When you felt the tension leave his body, you began. You kissed his untattooed cheek and kept your voice low but there was no hiding the sincere way you spoke to him now. “I love how you look out for us and how protective you are.”
You nudged his nose with yours and kissed the bridge of it. “I love how kind and caring you are.”
“I love how you are with Omega.” You kissed his other cheek.
“I love when you let yourself be vulnerable and that wall comes down.” You kissed behind his ear.
“I love watching you track. I love how you capable you are.” You kissed right by his hairline.
“Your hair not only looks beautiful on you, but I love how you let me pull on it when you’re making me see stars and I need to be grounded.” You didn’t miss the deep groan that left him when you used your free hand to tug on it so you could leave more marks on the other side of his neck that had been without your attention since this had started.
You found his mouth once more and kissed him deeply, lovingly. I love that you know what to say to reassure me. You continued to kiss him, upping the intensity as you did so. An act you knew he appreciated due to the way he cradled the side of your jaw. You let him have a moment of control as he licked into your mouth, drawing a small moan from you. Plus, you know exactly how to drive me wild. You included and you grinned against his mouth as you pulled away slightly to allow you both to breathe. You started to pay his jawbone some care. You laid soft kisses along it.
Slowly but surely, Hunter was starting to forget the outside world for a while. You were being so affectionate and loving and he found himself believing all you were saying. That usual voice that would tell him he was failing, or he was losing you was starting to fade into the background. He caressed your sides and continued to do what you had said at the beginning. You were what he was focusing on now.
You started to kiss your way down his chest, gently biting and sucking the skin and your hand skimmed over the necklace that sat there perfectly. I love how good this looks on you and it means so much to me that you wear it and I love you for it.
Your hand trailed up and down his arm. “I love how secure I feel in these arms when they hold me. Or when you show off how strong you are.” You added playfully before you brought his hand to your mouth and traced your mouth across his wrist before you kissed his palm. “I love how these hands play with a vibroblade. And how talented they are in… other areas.” You teased and you increased the pace of the hand that was between you, relishing in the pleasurable sigh that left Hunter’s mouth.
Hunter knew he was reaching that point of blissful ecstasy. You had driven him crazy but in the best possible way, however, this wasn’t how he wanted things to end. “W-wait.” Hunter said hastily as he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
You tilted your head at him.
“I need-” He swallowed thickly. “I need to feel you.”
You gave him a warm smile and brought your mouth against his. “And what exactly do you want to feel?” You murmured against his lips.
You left him chasing your mouth and instead took his hand once more and brought his finger to your mouth and sucked, emitting a seductive moan as you did so, and your teeth grazed the tip of his finger. “Do you want my mouth?”
“Shit.” Hunter gasped.
“Or is there something else…” You trailed off and ground against him.
A strangled groan left Hunter’s mouth. “Pl-please.” He rasped.
“Please what, Sergeant?” You said alluringly, not letting up on the slow, steady grind of your hips. You kissed him and tugged his bottom lip between your teeth.
“Fucking hell.” He said through clenched teeth, his head fell back down onto the pillow. “I need- I need to be inside you.” He said, knowing he somehow sounded shy, but he was so desperate for you that he didn’t care.
Finding his demeanour rather endearing and as a sign that you’d done your job, his mind didn’t seem as preoccupied anymore and having pushed him far enough and not really wanting to leave him wanting, you lifted your hips. You quieted his groans with your kiss as you started to move with both of your breathing quickly becoming irregular. Force you feel perfect.
Hunter couldn’t help the noises that were leaving him. You looked positively ethereal, he couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you felt incredible. Your words and comfort had helped to ground him, and he knew he was so lucky to have you. He drank in the pleasurable sighs that were coming from you and they were tipping him over that edge.
You had teased him long enough and you could tell he was close by the low moans that left his throat and the way his hold on your hips had tightened that but that wasn’t a problem. Your priority now was his pleasure. His release. And you did everything you could to get him there. You kissed him. You nibbled his earlobe and his pulse point. “I love you, Hunter.” You whispered breathlessly and then you felt him fall apart beneath you. You worked him through it, and it was only when he lightly tapped your hip that you stopped.
You planted light, sweet kisses along his neck and jaw and admired the many love bites you had left in your wake. Still with me, Sarge?
Hunter struggled to find any words. You had made him seen stars and he was still coming back down from the surreal experience you had just provided him, but he was aware enough to know you weren’t taken care of yet, something he was not used to. “You didn’t-”
You stroked the shorter strands on his hair back to silence him as you laid down next to him. “I did. Twice. Right in that shower if you remember. This was about you.”
Hunter let out a disgruntled grunt but accepted it as he kissed your brow. “I love you too.”
“How’s that voice?” You asked quietly as you tossed a leg over his hip so as to get even closer to him.
“What voice?” Hunter whispered in reply as he rested his head on top of yours.
You hummed out a laugh and closed your eyes.
In all the peace, you both had forgotten about the group of people waiting on your return. Your abandoned comms chirped and then Echo’s voice filled the empty space. “(Y/N), Hunter, it’s been a while. What’s your status?”
You and Hunter both groaned but smiled at each other as you sat up.
You reached down and grabbed your comm. “Sorry, Echo. Took a bit longer than expected. We got the data and we’re heading back now.”
“Copy that.” He signed off.
“Kinda forgot the whole point of why we were here in the first place.” Hunter said lightly as he kissed the top of your shoulder.
“I mean, that was the idea.” You said with a coy smile as you angled yourself to face him. “We better get going.” You kissed him quickly once more before you grabbed your dress and slipped it back on with Hunter following close behind.
“If you don’t want any brotherly teasing or awkwardness, you’re uh, going to need to wear this before we get back.” Hunter said apologetically as he examined the marks he’d left on your neck. He hadn’t been too careful about his placements this time around.
You tutted playfully at him as you took his scarf from him and wrapped it around you. “Better?”
“You make anything look good.” Hunter said by way of reply.
You grinned at him. “Let’s this ship in the air.” You started to walk to the cockpit.
“Hey, (Y/N).”
You turned back around to face him.
“Thank you. For all of it. I- I try so hard to be in control and keep it together. It was nice to not be for a change.”
You made your way back towards him and wrapped your arms around him, sighing happily when he held you tightly against his chest.
“We’re getting the hang of this relationship thing.” You said jokingly before you angled yourself to look at him. “You can share the load, Hunter. You’re not alone.” You said, your tone more serious.
“I know.” Hunter agreed, really believing it this time.
--
As the ship made its way back, Hunter felt a true sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in a while. There would still be uncertainties and he still had his squad to look after but one thing was now certain in his mind: you were it for him. He could face the unpredictable galaxy and protect what he loved with you by his side. He wouldn’t let that doubt creep in and take over like that again. He had you. He had his squad. That wouldn’t change. It couldn’t change. He wouldn’t let it.
Next Chapter>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @a-streakofazure, @ladytano420, @dragonrider9905, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx
#the bad batch#the bad batch season 2#the bad batch s2#hunter x reader#hunter x fem!reader#hunter x femaleJedi!reader#hunter x female!reader#sergeant hunter x reader#sergeant hunter#hunter tbb#hunter the bad batch#the bad batch hunter x you#hunter x y/n#tbb hunter x reader#the bad batch fanfiction#star wars#friends to lovers#angst#fluff#smut
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you bring me home - matty healy
part one
series masterlist: :)
wc: 1.9K
Nothing could have ever prepared Caroline for the world as she knew it suddenly ceasing to exist and being forced to move in with her brother and his best friend. Well maybe saying he forced her was a bit of an exaggeration but George had been very clear that she could join them willingly or he would come and pick her up because he wasn't leaving her to mope and deal with her recent heartbreak all by herself for who knows how long.
Just weeks ago her fiancé, well, she should say ex-fiancé now broke things off with her while they were visiting wedding venues because he claimed he didn't love her anymore. It had been like a sudden rough force hitting her in the stomach. Knees almost crippling underneath her and the bright smile she had been bearing since they arrived vanished within milliseconds. The sharp pain left her gasping for air, at the mercy of the cold man who had so casually ripped her heart out.
Now she was living by herself in their formerly shared apartment. Haunted by memories everywhere she turned. She couldn't sleep in their bedroom anymore, not when she was greeted every morning with the right hand side of the bed empty and untouched. She had boxed up all of the belongings he had left behind once the anger at the situation had passed but she hadn't been able to open it since. And then there was the ring. It felt wrong to keep wearing it when it was a reminder of her farce of a relationship but she still loved it. Mainly because she had picked the ring out herself because he never knew what jewellery to buy her - seriously, Caroline had never worn silver in her life and what did he get her for every anniversary and holiday? The same silver heart necklace.
Glancing out of the apartment window Caroline noticed the raindrops sliding down the glass. How fucking appropriate, she mused. George had rang her earlier to say that he was on the way to pick her up so she found herself waiting eagerly to catch a glimpse of his car. At first she had been hesitant to even accept his offer of moving into the studio for however long they were in lockdown and living with her brother for the first time since they were teenagers. But after spending the past few weeks feeling like a ghost in what was once her home, she desperately needed the change in scenery, and company.
Apparently she had completely missed his car pulling up outside even in her concentrated efforts because a knock rapped against the door. Caroline quickly headed to unlock it and within seconds George was stood before her. "Hey, Caro," George said hugging her tightly "ready for a change of scenery?"
Caroline nodded. "I think I'd go insane if I stayed here any longer G."
"Well," George shot her a grin "I can't promise that you won't go insane living with Matty but it's definitely better than moping in here by yourself."
Matty. That had been the only real reason she had felt so hesitant accepting George's offer. They had never really been close considering their age gap. Caroline had still been in school when the band started to take off and by that point the boys had surpassed the need for family members filling the audience at their gigs. She had met her brother's closest friend a few times over the years, mainly when he would come over to their house to get high with George in his room. Caroline had the biggest crush on him back then, not that she would ever admit it, but she had a suspicion that he knew because of the occasional joke he made when they got older.
She'd played the part of the supportive sister at their early gigs and she made sure to support them by going to whatever shows she could get time off work. George was incredibly talented but there was no denying Matty's charisma on stage. Caroline hated how easily he captured her attention whenever she watched one of their performances. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the whole band, her gaze always wandered back to the one member who'd never really given her the time of day.
Even at 25 she was convinced that he still only saw her as George's kid sister. And she’d accepted that - it was a childhood crush and destined to be nothing more. She was meant to be getting married to another man after all. A man who she had once believed to be the love of her life. However, she supposed it was true what they said about your first love because she’d never forgotten about it. If you could even call unrequited infatuation fuelled by adolescent pining a first love.
"I dealt with both of you growing up," Caroline deadpanned "I think I can handle it just fine."
George feigned offence momentarily but he knew it wasn't an argument he was ever going to win if he let Caroline get started. Similarly to Matty she could talk for England - the only difference being she had some self control and it mainly showed when she was really passionate about something, whereas Matty just never shut up.
With that Caroline had handed her bags to a reluctant George and she left the apartment without a second glance. Deep down she was tempted to take a minute to remember the place which for the last five years of her life she had called home but everything about it was as tainted as the wilting roses forever frozen in time that she didn't have the heart to replace.
George loaded her bags into the back of his car when they reached it before turning to Caroline with a teasing grin "do you want to drive?"
"Do you have a death wish?" she beamed back at him "because if you do I'm more than happy to assist."
Caroline's relationship with driving had always been a constant source of entertainment for her brother. Even after he moved out, it still never failed to bring him some amusement. She was an absolute menace on the roads and had failed her driving test an impressive ten times before deciding that maybe she just wasn't meant to drive. Initially George had been the one forced to take her driving to appease their parents but he quickly grew bored of attempting to teach his sister who he claimed was hopeless (and maybe he was right but that wasn't the point.) He ended up pawning her off to Hann because he was the most sensible one and Ross would just encourage her chaotic tendencies on the road and Matty wasn't much better himself.
He gestured to the passenger seat in the car and Caroline took the hint. She climbed into the car, her emotions swirling within her, yet finding comfort in her brother's presence. George settled into the driver's seat beside her, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel with determination. "Ready passenger princess?"
"Look G," Caroline smirked "some people were meant to drive and the rest of us were born to be driven everywhere .
As the engine roared to life, Caroline quicky seized control of the aux. Moving slowly at first as they pulled away from her now old apartment building, before picking up speed as they left the city behind. Caroline watched the scenery pass by a blur of buildings and streets transforming into sprawling landscapes.
Throughout the drive Caroline noticed George glancing over at her whenever he thought she wasn't aware of it. As overbearing as his protective brother act could be sometimes she found herself especially grateful for it this time. Their shared silence spoke volumes and their unspoken bond conveyed all the comfort and understanding in the world.
"Matty's already here, by the way," George informed her as they approached the secluded studio.
That was all Caroline really took in. For the remainder of the journey she felt like she was just an autopilot. Like she was just a shell in place of a human. Then before she knew it George brought the car to a complete stop and parked it right in front of the studio. She later eyes on Matty instantly although not intentionally, he just so happened to be caught in her direct line of vision immediately after she hoped out of the car. He looked good. Happier than she’d seen him in years.
When their gazes locked for the first time in a year Caroline was slightly intimidated by the intensity of Matty’s stare but it melted away and reformed into the familiar teasing smile she had come to associate with Matty. She desperately to part her lips and speak but something was stopping her. It was unlike Matty to hold back like this as well and Caroline didn’t know what to make of this sudden reserved demeanour to him. They were at a standstill with George completely unaware of their staring match as he unloaded both of their bags from the back of his car. Caroline felt as though her throat was stuck and all the witty comments she’d been calculating in the back of her mind were suddenly wiped from her memory.
Despite having the ability to hear Matty’s voice at anytime through his music and interviews, Caroline was ever grateful that she’d been blessed with the opportunity to hear it in person. Yet even after being so sure she could resist the almost magnetic pull Matty’s voice had on her, any hope of finally being free of that childhood crush she’d never been able to let go of quickly diminished the second those words fell from Matty’s lips.
They fell like soft,music notes. A mixture of quavers, minims and crotchets perfectly arranged to enthrall her and leave her practically speechless at the beautiful melody they created that was Matty’s voice. And Caroline’s heartbeat? In that moment it mimicked a crescendo like no other. One that would put all of the greatest musicians and composers to shame.
Matty’s surprisingly veiny and dexterous hand filled her vision pulling her abruptly out of her quiet admiration as he notably leaned against the doorframe. “Well, well, well, look who's finally here. The famous Caroline Daniel graces us with her presence."
Caroline felt her cheeks turning a shade of pink so she tried to brush it off by playfully rolled her eyes in an effort to compose herself. “If anyone’s famous here darling we both know it’s not me,” Caroline grinned “I’m just here because George didn’t want me to have a mental breakdown by myself.”
Matty chuckled his voice laced with a hint of mischief “Say the word love and I’ll join you…” before his tone turned more genuine “for what it’s worth, I've missed having you around."
She wanted to make a stinging comment about that being a first. Or about him finally properly acknowledging and taking to her for the first time in years. But she held back. If they were going to be living together with only George as a mediator she didn’t want to purposefully instigate things. Besides, she was just here so she didn’t have to wallow in her misery alone. Not even the presence of the only guy she’d never really gotten over could throw a wrench in that, right?
#matty healy#the 1975#matty healy fic#matty healy x oc#the 1975 fanfic#george daniel#ross macdonald#adam hann#matty healy fanfiction#matty x reader
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A Very Sebby Christmas 🎄 💚
Okay, so it's not Christmas, but this was a request from the lovely @pugsnotdrugs92 I hope this is what you were after. Plenty of fluff 💓 and a splash of spice 🌶 with Sebastian x F!MC
Sebastian snapped the locks shut on his suitcase and took a deep breath. He could hardly believe he was about to board the Hogwarts Express with MC and travel to London for Christmas. His heart beat a little faster at the thought. Christmas in the big city, Christmas with MC and her family.
"All ready to leave?" Ominis asked. He was packed and ready to go home for the holidays, his face grim at the thought. "Are you still alright about making the trip? There has been a fair amount of sighing going on."
Sebastian thought for a moment, his eyes moving to the portrait miniture of MC on his nightstand. "What if her family don't like me?"
"Come now, my friend," Ominis said. He moved to place a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I am quite sure everything will be just wonderful. MC is a delightful young woman, why should her family not be equally as amiable."
"Perhaps your right."
"Of course I am," Ominis said. "Failing your obvious charm, you could always hex them if they turn out to be rather monstrous I suppose."
Sebastian stared at his friend. "Ominis!"
Ominis chuckled and moved back towards his own suitcase. "Come on, we have a train to catch."
-----*-----
Platform 9 3/4 was bustling with parents and students, luggage wagons were rolling, and the excited chatter was a dull roar in their ears as Sebastian and MC stepped from the train. MC was up on her tiptoes trying to spot her parents through the crowds, she glanced behind and grabbed Sebastian's arm. "Come on," she urged.
Sebastian couldn't help but smile at the excitement dancing in her eyes and allowed himself to be tugged through the throng. MC gave an excited cry and headed for a well dressed couple. The gentleman wore a fine suit and hat, a pocket watch chain in finest gold glinting under the gas lights. Sebastian was rather impressed by his moustache and imagined growing one himself one day.
The lady wore a dress in fine blue silk, delicate jewellery gracing her ears and throat. She was a beauty, her smile bright and lovely when she spotted MC hurrying towards then.
"Mother, we're here!" MC had never cared much for strict propriety despite the etiquette training she had received and had no qualms about giving her parents fierce hugs. "Merlin, how I have missed you!"
Sebastian stood back a little, watching the warm family reunion and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He wondered where Anne was spending her Christmas and then forced the thought aside. She had sent an owl. She was safe. That was the main thing.
Then MC was taking his arm and pulling him forward. "Mother, Father, please, I would love to finally introduce you to Sebastian Sallow."
MC's father immediately held out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, young man. We have heard a great deal about you in MC's owls."
Sebastian eyed the hand offered and took it, shaking with a firm grip. "Its a pleasure, Sir, and thank you for the kind invitation to your home."
MC's father nodded and then her mother was taking his hand in both of hers. "You are most welcome, my dear," she said warmly. "It is so lovely to finally meet the young man that MC speaks so highly of, and she was right, you are as handsome as she promised."
Sebastian felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. "You are too kind Mrs MCsLN."
"Yes, well, shall we head for the carriage?"
At her father's words, MC nodded and they went to collect their luggage.
.....*.....
MC's home was a large city house in Chelsea, Sebastian tried not to gawp at the finery surrounding them, and managed to hold a rather pleasant conversation with MC's mother about Herbology. He found she had rather a sharp mind and found himself warming to her immediately. He could see so much of MC in her.
At dinner, her father mentioned some magic theory he had come across in archives at the Ministry where he had an office. Sebastian's eyes lit up and mentioned what he knew of it. Her Father was most impressed and they launched into a rather long conversation, discussing books they had both read.
"Shall we leave the men to it, my dear?" Her mother whispered. "They look like they will be wagging their chins for a while yet."
MC nodded and moved to put her hand on Sebastian's shoulder. He looked up at her, eyes devouring the way her hair was piled up so sophisticated on her head, the delicate gown she wore and his heart swelled. How was she his? "I'm just going to spend some time with Mother," she said. "I will come to say goodnight before I retire."
"Of course," he said. His gaze moved to her mother, who looked equally as lovely. "Thank you so much for dinner. It was delicious. And as for the company, well, what can I say? I feel like the luckiest man in London right now."
MC's father raised an eyebrow at the lovely blush that spread across his wife's cheeks. "Oh, Sebastian, you are welcome any time. Especially if you continue with sweet words such as those!"
MC and her mother moved to the sitting room where a cheerful fire burned in the hearth. MC moved to the Christmas tree and admired a glittering bauble.
"What a lovely young man you have secured for yourself, MC," Mother said. "I can see why he makes you so happy. After a year I am surprised he hasn't offered you a ring."
MC blushed. "I may have known him for that time, but we have only officially been courting for a few months. We were friends first, and then it became something more."
"Oh! But you spoke of him so warmly, and it was apparent that you spent a lot of time together. I assumed too much it seems."
"Perhaps my feelings for him were there the whole time and I just didn't see it," MC said. "Sebastian is devoted to his sister and she was quite poorly, he dedicated a lot of time to her care and well being. She has since improved and moved on with her life, so now he has more time for things such as courting."
Her mother gave a little sigh, her hand to her chest. "He sounds more wonderful by the moment. And you are truly happy?"
MC hurried to her side, dropping to her knees and taking her mothers hands in her own. "Fiercely happy Mother, like you wouldn't believe," she said. "He makes my heart sing and the merest touch of his hand makes me feel like the only girl in the world."
Tears welled in her mother's eyes. "I felt the same with your father, and I still do." She cupped MC's face with her hand. "My baby girl is all grown up and in love. I approve sweetheart. Your father may not say so, but he approves too. He would not sit and hold such a long conversation with a man who did not entice his mind, as your Sebastian clearly does. You have our blessing."
.....*.....
Christmas Eve. The family had shared a lovely dinner with some friends, Ministry people who were equally impressed with Sebastian's bright, young mind. One of them could play piano, and after the fire whiskey had been brought out, Sebastian led MC's mother in a dance, his heart thudding with nerves the whole time. When he danced with MC, he had dared to hold her close, their eyes only for each other's. If they had been able to tear their gazes away to look, they would have seen the sentimental glance shared between her parents. It was obvious. The youngsters were very much in love.
The hour was late and Sebastian lay awake listening to the house settling. His heart was as full as it could be, MC's family were welcoming and warm, he felt wanted here. There was an ache deep inside for Anne, and for his lost parents. He knew they would have loved MC for her wit, her cleverness and her fierce loyalty. He missed them terribly, but he didn't feel alone.
The creak of his door made him turn and a figure slipped into his room, closing the door with a quiet click. MC tiptoed to the bed in her long nightdress, her hair unbound and trailing over her shoulders. He felt flame and want gather. He knew he would always want her, it was like there was an invisible cord between them, linking them in ways only they would know how.
"Sebastian, quick, look," she whispered. She tugged at his arm. He smiled in confusion and allowed her to pull him from the warmth of his bed. They went to the window. "Its snowing."
They stood for a moment watching as the flurries fell, coating the street in a blanket of white. It was nature's own brand of magic, snow. It seemed to bring with it a peacefulness and Sebastian thought he could relate. He slipped his arm around MC's waist and held her close, her soft curves a comfort and a stoker of growing flames. "I love you," he whispered. "I hope you know that."
She smiled. She knew, of course she did, but oh how she loved to tease him. She toyed with a button on his sleep shirt. "Maybe you need to prove it," she said cheekily.
"You are not trying to seduce me under your Father's roof now, are you?"
She pressed her mouth to his neck, sucking gently. He allowed himself a sigh, not risking a moan at her kiss. "Is it working?"
"Absolutely not," he said. He focused on the snow drifting against the window, but her lips were so soft, so wet...
A strangled gasp left his mouth as her hand cupped his growing arousal. Her fingers smoothing up towards the tip. "Hmm, this little chap tells me otherwise," she sighed.
"You are a naughty girl," he whispered, his mouth seeking hers. He kissed her thoroughly, tongue sweeping hungrily.
"You love it," she said between kisses.
He risked a low groan, hands rucking up her nightdress to cup her delicious behind, backing her up to the bed. She fell back onto it, her hips barely on the edge as he slid two fingers into her, her folds slick and ready for him. She arched, moaning softly. "Yes, Seb, yes."
He silenced her moans with kisses, his fingers seeking out what pleased her most, swirling and teasing before fucking her as deep as his fingers would allow once more. She was soaked, his fingers sliding effortlessly and his cock strained against his pyjama bottoms. He was going to lose it.
Fumbling to free himself, he pushed her thighs wide and buried himself inside her, both of them biting back their moans of pleasure. He began to thrust and then paused at the squeal of protest from the bed springs. His heart was thudding and his balls felt like they were going to explode, but the bed was going to give them away.
He glanced around the bedroom, reluctantly pulling out from her. "What is it?" She asked, sitting up.
He pulled out the chair at the desk and turned it, placing it in the centre of the floor. "In order not to be detected, we need to be a bit inventive."
"Why not cast a silencing charm?" She asked with a frown. He grabbed her hand and led her to the chair, taking a seat. He patted his lap. "Because, where would the fun be in that?"
She grinned as he tugged his bottoms down further and pulled his slick cock free, all ready for her. His hand on her hips, she straddled him, gripping his shoulders as she slid deliciously onto his cock. She immediately did a testing roll of her hips and he groaned. "Oh, fuck that's good."
"I thought we were being quiet," she said, smothering a giggle.
He smirked and pulled up her nightdress, tugging it over head. "Let's get rid of this so I can have a perfect view of these while you fuck me," he said. He cupped her breasts greedily, rolling her nipples under his thumbs. He bent to suck one into his mouth and her head fell back, her hair trailing to his thighs. "Gods, I love these," he mumbled, mouth full.
MC began to roll her hips, finding a rhythm that made his cock rub her in all the right places. His fingers dug into her hips and she panted, her feet balanced on the very tips of her toes. She could feel the pressure building, the fear of being discovered, the slide of his thick cock, the way he was watching her through lidded eyes building the fire within her. She began to bounce on him, eager, desperate, her thighs slapping down against his and then she threw her head back, her release crashing through her. Sebastian gasped, hanging on to her waist with one arm and wrapping the other hand over her mouth as a long moan escaped her lips, low and as sexy as fuck. He shuddered, his cock pulsing and bursting at the sound she had made, filling her with his own release.
They both panted, foreheads pressed together, his fingers tangled into her hair at the nape of her neck. "I love you too," she said. She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "Merry Christmas."
.....*.....
The Hogwarts Express wound through the English countryside enroute to Scotland. The hills were still coated in a blanket of white from the snowfall at Christmas that had carried through to the New Year. Sebastian sat near the window, his arm wrapped securely around MC. He thought about the small box in his suitcase, handed to him by MC's father Christmas morning wrapped in bright paper. Inside had been a set of silver cufflinks, the tops shaped as a coiled snake. He had been choked, overwhelmed by such a lovely gift, and had tried to hand it back insisting it was too much. But her father had placed a warm hand over his, making the box stay firmly within Sebastian's grasp. "Nonsense, boy," he had said. "You are family now."
Even now it made his throat want to close up and he held MC a little closer. "Are you glad to be returning to Hogwarts?" She asked.
"Yes, and no," he replied. "I'm not sure if the city is for me, however the trip turned out to be rather a pleasant one."
"So, you enjoyed Christmas?"
He looked down at her and booped his finger playfully on her nose. "The best I've had since I was a small boy."
He realised it was the truth, and it was all because of her. MC's smile was warmer than any Christmas candle. "I'm so glad," she said. "Perhaps we can visit again, summer perhaps?"
"That sounds perfect."
MC snuggled closer against him, thrilled that she had managed to make Christmas special for him. She thought about Christmas Eve when she had snuck into his room, a warm glow spreading through her. A smile tugged her lips at their failed efforts to be quiet. She hadn't told Sebastian about the conversation she'd had with her mother the following day, he would probably be mortified to know that she had overheard them. But MC had a little box of her own in her suitcase containing a few bottles of potion to prevent conceiving a child. She had flushed scarlet at first when her mother had handed them over, but the accompanying words had eased the embarrassment.
"Take these," she had said. "While I am pleased to hear you already have a supply of your own, I want to show you that I support your decisions. You have grown into a wonderful young woman, out there making me so proud with all that you are learning, finding your feet in the world. I was young and in love once, I know how it feels to burn for a man, believe me. All I ask is that you finish your education at Hogwarts, take everything that life has to offer you, and then make the most of every moment with that lovely young man of yours. Spend some time, just the two of you, exploring what life has to offer before you even think about a family of your own. Cherish those moments alone with him, I promise, you won't regret it."
MC had never loved her mother more than in that moment. They had hugged, maybe shed a tear or two, and then they had giggled when her mother had confessed that she could see why MC had been tempted into Sebastian's bed, if she had been a much younger witch, she would have had her head turned herself!
....*....
Suitcase unpacked, robes hung up ready for classes resuming the next morning, Sebastian picked up his miniature portrait of MC and smiled. He was going to marry her one day, he would make damn sure of it.
Ominis came into the room, wand held up, his face brightening when he realised Sebastian was there. "Good Christmas?" He asked.
"Actually, yes," Sebastian replied.
"So, no need for any hexing then?"
"Absolutely not, you were right. MC's family are as perfect as she is."
Ominis nodded and then frowned. "Wish I could say the same for my lot," he sighed. "Unfortunately, there was a need for a hex or two, you know what my brother is like."
Sebastian smirked. "Indeed I do, tell me everything."
#hogwarts legacy fanfic#mc x sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow smut
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resident evil 4 remake - what each character would be doing on christmas headcanons !
ada wong
she wouldn't be too big on celebrating, although she would treat herself with the money she got from missions. she would buy herself new clothes (she's a fashion icon), jewellery, perfume, makeup etc.
if she felt like it, she might even send leon a little present, even if it's not much it's the thought that counts. it'd be a small token of her love to show she still thinks about him, since they rarely see eachother.
ashley graham
she would LOVE christmas and celebrating it, it's one of her favourite holidays if not her favourite. she would always make sure to have the decorations up, christmas music playing from her record player as soon as it's december 1st.
she would spend the day with her father, opening the gifts he bought her which she deeply appreciates. she'd even buy him gifts, wanting to show how much she appreciates him, especially after the incident of her being kidnapped.
since she's rich (obviously being the president's daughter and all), she would buy her friends big gifts, like a brand new phone. she would say she's sorry that she couldn't get much, despite it being more than most people can afford.
she would probably even make a little handmade gift for leon, wanting it to be made herself instead of something she bought as it's more meaningful that way.
albert wesker
i can't imagine him being much of a festive guy, he wouldn't really celebrate. he'd take the day to have a rest and break, lying in bed for most of the day (he's an old man okay leave him alone).
ingrid hunnigan
much like wesker, i feel she wouldn't celebrate as much, but she would spend time with her family if they wanted her to. when she got back though, she'd definitely rest and just lay in bed, thankful she doesn't have to deal with leon's jokes for a day.
leon scott kennedy
in re2 remake, he definitely loved christmas, it was his favourite holiday. but by re4 remake, he began to not have time for those things, working for the d.s.o and all. he would take the day off to finally have a break from it all, drinking alcohol and getting drunk most of the day (are we even surprised?).
if ada did send him a gift, he would do the same cute smile he done when she gave him the key for the jet ski. he hadn't had time to buy or make anything himself, he felt bad about it but knew she wouldn't mind anyway.
luis serra navarro
same as ashley, he would LOVE christmas. he would be singing all the popular christmas songs like last christmas, all i want for christmas is you, rockin' around the christmas tree etc. he would have all the decorations up, although it would make him a little sad sometimes he didn't have loved ones to share the christmas joy with anymore.
merchant
he would have the best sales on around christmas time, especially after because he knows people are gonna be spending all their money.
he would even sell some little christmas keychain charms to put on your case, which are super cute (both ashley and luis would buy them if they could).
he'd also put some christmas lights on his setup, along with a tiny slow globe.
sorry if these are ooc this is my first time making headcanons💔 its very obvious i love ashley just from this post
tags :: @videogamesluver @gori-thegorilla
#ashley graham#resident evil 4#resident evil 4 remake#re4r#re4 remake#re4#re4make#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy#resident evil#luis serra#luis sera navarro#luis sera#luis serra navarro#re#albert wesker#merchant#ingrid hunnigan#ada wong#ada resident evil#resident evil ada wong#ashley resident evil#resident evil ashley#resident evil leon#leon resident evil#luis resident evil#resident evil luis#resident evil wesker#wesker resident evil
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same here dear author, but farmer is kind of cute in this scenario, so i can't help but forgive him😭 another amazing work from you!!
does he and mousey have some romantic moments? or as romantic as they can get with farmer lmao. do they celebrate anniversaries or their birthdays? 👀
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Awww, thank you!!!!!
Yeah! Farmer can be romantic but it's almost entirely accidental. He doesn't go out of his way to create a romantic atmosphere or do things for the sole purpose of being romantic. Which in turn makes it more romantic. I mean think about it! Here's this rough and tough man doing kind things, such as building a spice rack for mouse or planting a garden out the back filled with mouseys favourite flowers, not because he knows it's something they will gush over or with the intention of being received at romantic. No! He's just doing it because he wants his sweet mouse to be able to store all their spices for baking or wants them to smile every time they look outside.
He gets embarrassed if Mousey calls him romantic or makes a big deal over his actions. He would be happy even if they never acknowledged his work, except maybe for a smile. I see Mousey's birthday being made a big deal by him. This is probably the only day he actually tries to be romantic and it almost always fails, he plans a picnic and it storms, or he buys jewellery but he lost it, or he takes you to the movies but it happens to be a random public holiday and its shut. He gets really frustrated but somehow finds a way to make it a really sweet day.
He refuses to have anything resembling a birthday celebration for him though. He only accepts sex and cake.
Maybe he will celebrate a wedding anniversary, but it'll just be another day for him. Cause in his mind, mousey was already his like 6 months before, so the wedding itself was more a formality than anything symbolic.
Also, instead of being romantic, this man will be pervy and horny to the max on special days. Like I mean waking his mouse up at like 4 am on his birthday to ask for a birthday blow job and he pouts when mouse just grunts and falls back asleep. He's the sort of person to be excited for his s/o birthday cause it means sexy time for him. He will ask for some sort of roleplay on his birthday though. But if you ever tell anyone ever.... he will disown you.
tag list:@floraroselaughter
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Scam on sailors
When a ship came into a port after a long period of absence, many sailors and officers were not always allowed to go ashore. The sailors in particular always had to keep an eye out for deserters, and the inhabitants of the port did, because there was a bounty on deserters and if they didn't run away voluntarily, well, then they helped them along a bit and pretended they wanted to run away. That's why many people didn't want to go ashore voluntarily. So it was handy when the bumboats came with numerous willing ladies of the pleasure trade and with them came the flying traders known as Jews.
The bumboat women selling souvenirs, 1892 (x)
This name is meant in a very anti-Semitic and derogatory way. These traders did not sell high quality goods, but since good Christian traders would not do so, they were called Jews, because only they would fool and cheat others. However, most people did not care that these were local people, most of whom did not belong to the Jewish faith, and this distinction, dating back to the Middle Ages, was carried into the 20th century.
These traders sold all kinds of things, one of them specialising in gold watches, rings with shining gemstones, telescopes and seals, and the other selling clothes like striped trousers, shoe buckles, but also foodstuffs like rum and sugar and so on - in short, like those traders you meet on holiday who sell you the latest junk at much inflated prices. And that's exactly how it was here, the things were usually broken after a few days and could no longer be repaired, and the precious pieces of jewellery were cheap imitations made of brass and glass. and the food was never, ever real. The rum was just sweetened water and the sugar was often just san and the trousers thin as paper.
In order to control these scoundrels, the officers only allowed them on board under certain conditions or sometimes not at all, and if they were allowed then only occasionally. Then they had to go to the quarterdeck and set up what they wanted to sell, and the officers removed the obvious trash. Attempts at smuggling were also prevented and the boys were not even allowed to buy. Despite this, the traders still made a profit, even though they were always caught and there were soon heated discussions between the sailor concerned, the Master at Arms, a lieutenant and the trader.
Most sailors knew they were being cheated and tried to avoid them, but those who had no other choice - because they might have lost the deal with the pruser or because they didn't know any better - fell for the scoundrels.
In the course of the 19th century, the bumboat ladies increasingly took over this business and tried to sell souveniers and crews.
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Lumosstarter For: @sethosflint Location: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop
Christmas was just around the corner, and though Astrid was not one to make a big deal about, she did enjoy in taking part. Her mother on the other hand, had a secret love for the holiday - though, more likely it just gave her another excuse to spoil Astrid more, even at the age of 29. In a way, Astrid felt as if her mother was never truly ready to let go of her little girl.
She had brought her mother gifts, she was easy. Get her Jewellery or anything sparky, she was bound to love it. Her father on the other hand, was much trickier to purchase for.
She found herself making he way to the Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, it was known for selling items that had been cursed with dark magic, a special interest and passion of her fathers.
Browsing the shelves, she looked at several objects, many draw her attention to them, and she knew her father would love the own the entire shop - it was a shape the bearded man wasn't interested in selling up. As she turned down another set of shelves she noticed Setho's, also browsing.
"Fancy seeing you here" she smiled.
"It's been a while, how have you been?".
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