#and found a bunch of photos in my camera I barely remember taking

[elinda96]

A Calming Walk

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[cellsshapedlikestars]

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

.

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

[wlwloverwrites]

Sugar

Pairing: Margot Robbie x Reader

Warnings: fluff, making out, light food play, fingering, smut (18+)

Summary: Candy necklaces are meant to be eaten.

Inspired by her insta post

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO

“You look good enough to eat, Sugar.” You wink, pointing at the candy necklace she was wearing.

“Oh stop it,” Margot shushes you, her pale face suddenly red with embarrassment. She tries to hide the color in her cheeks by hiding behind her blonde hair. Almost immediately you push the loose strands of hair behind her ear, staring into her piercing blue eyes.

A small smile appears on your face as the both of you continue to stare at each other. Comfortable silence surrounds you, the warm sun feels delightful against your exposed skin, the green scenery behind you gave you a sense of relief.

“I love you,” you confess with a smile, your heart was beating out of your chest. You had the most beautiful woman standing in front of you with the prettiest smile on her face. Blonde strands of hair complimenting her skin beautifully, the lighter hairs were almost golden. 

“You better.” She states with a laugh.

You gasp furrowing your eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m your fiancé.”

“Oh that’s right. Sorry I forgot.” You let out an ‘ow’ when Margot pinches your arm as pay back for your little comment.

“So...” She drags out her words, causally showing off the natural uncut diamond rock resting on her ring finger before continuing. “You better love me, other wise that’ll be a big problem.”

“Ah, I see. Good thing my feelings are still the same as of two seconds ago and the moment I laid eyes on you.” You nod with a very concentrated thinking face, playing along to her little joke.

“The feeling is mutual, babe.”

“Oh thank fuck, I was sweaty thinking you got bored.” You let out a sigh of relief, playful wiping the ‘sweat’ off your forehead.

Your words cause the woman in front of you to let a loud laugh. The sound makes your heart swell with happiness. A warm feeling in your chest erupts into a hot flame.

Margot’s fingers find themselves playing with the new ring you gave her. She remembers the day you had given it to her, presenting your whole self to her, tears in your eyes as you poured your heart and soul to. Explain how much you loved and couldn’t live without her, wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.

She remembers the way her heart was beating so hard she thought she’d have to sit down and give herself some time. She couldn’t describe the feeling that ran through her bones when you kneeled in front of her and asked if she wanted to marry you. She also remembers smiling and screaming yes over and over again.

“Such sweet lips,” you praise, eyes glued to her pink, full lips that were begging to be kissed. Determined to kiss them until yours hurt you brush your nose against hers before tilting her head to the perfect angle. Your thumb brushes her bottom lip softly, watching as her lips curl up into another smile.

Leaning in to press your lips against hers, but Margot is quick to dodge your kiss. Looking like a fool with your lips puckered up and eyes closed, waiting for your lips to meet. Puckered lips turn into a frown, questioning your fiancé.

“Why?”

“Just let me- let me take a picture.” She throws her head back with a booming laugh when she sees your reaction, your lips are pressed into a straight line, bored eyes are pointed at her.

“You have ten seconds.” You demand playfully, you hands rested on her denim covered hips. Your fingers are hooked on her belt loops as you pull her body towards you, so it’s flushed against yours.

“Ten.”

Margot scrambles to type her password in, unlocking her phone. A large smile finds its way to her face as she swipes on her phone, searching for her camera app.

“Nine.”

“N-no! Wait-” she giggles, her accent has only gotten thicker during your shared quarantine. “I can’t find-”

“Eight.”

“I still can’t find my camera app!”

“Seven.”

“Got it!” You watch with a smile as your soon-to-be wife raises her phone, sending the camera a bright smile. Her thumb hovering over the small circle.

“Six.”

Snap!

Margot took a single look at the picture, her heart racing with each number you say aloud. Quickly she opens instagram, clicking the new photo. Almost ready to post and show almost 4 million people who aimlessly scroll through their feed.

“Three.”

“Ahhh! Where’s the candy emoji?!” She exclaims. You laugh at her silly attempt to find the emoji you have no idea even existed. Sensing she found what she was looking for, you count louder.

“Two!”

Her thumb hovers over the blue colored post. One click away.

“On-“ Her lips are pressed against yours, moaning softly into her mouth. Your hands squeeze her hips as your glide your tongue along her bottom lip. Margot is quick to fall under your spell, submitting to your kiss. Smirking when you can hear her whine in protest when you pull away.

“Why’d you stop?” Her swollen lips pout in annoyance, but she knew very little of the wild thoughts that ran through your head when her bottom lip stuck out.

Ignoring her question, your hands bunch up the front part of her sundress, raising it just enough to rest your hand on her thigh. Fingertips itch to sliding her underwear to the side and have her fall apart, but you hold out a little longer.

“Just want some sugar.”

She wants to question you again but falls silent when you dipped your head down to her neck. Your lips hover over her skin, the sweet smell of the hard candy resting on her neck invading your nose. Licking a wet stripe on her neck, the sugary candy grazes the tip of your tongue.

Raising your hand between her, expected to meet the soft feeling of her usual cotton panties, but no Margot felt frisky today.

“No panties?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

“Too hot.”

Chuckling at her quick response, obviously she’s getting impatient. Greedy woman she is. Your fingers are automatically soaked with her slick, soft whines are pulled from her lips as you continue to glide your fingers through her wet folds.

She shivers when she felt your teeth lightly nibble on her neck, each bite leads closer to the candy. Margot is breathing heavily now, shaking fingers play with the end of your blouse. Your teasing mouth final gets it’s hold on one of the many candies. You’re careful not to bite her pale skin. Chewing profoundly on the hard candy, drawing your attention to her pussy.

Dipping your soaked finger down to her entrance. Her knees visibly buckle when your thumb circles her clit. Maybe if you strained your ears hard enough you could hear out the soft ‘please’ Margot barely managed to let out.

As if you didn’t have enough access to her pretty neck before, she tilts her head back with a moan. Two knuckles deep in her pussy, the sundress is doing it’s best to hide your pulled out motions. Soft black material fall above your flexing wrist. Pulling away just as she got close to her orgasms, bring your fingers to your lips and lick them clean.

“So sweet.”

Shamelessly you chew on the hard candy with your glistening fingers pressed to your lips. Smirking at her glazed expression, her lips are parted as little gasps of air go in and out.

“Want some, Sugar?”

Give me Feedback

[miizpah]

cₐₘₑᵣₐ wₒᵣₖ | suna rintarou

anon asks: this is a long one lol... this is a suna thirst!!! send tweet. okay we all know how suna just loves to record things, right??? so this definitely translates over to the bedroom y’know ;) and suna has like hundreds of pictures and videos of the both of you fucking or with cum on various parts of your (and his) body. okay here’s the request tho. you find his album with the vids and shit, and you try to explain to him how it bothers you (even though it doesn’t rlly bother you at all, ur more worried about someone hacking his phone) but suna is not having it ;););) and he thinks ur trying to control him and shit like that and as punishment he fucks you on camera and sends it his friends chat. hahah rip y/n. female reader, thanks!!

!post time skip!

tw. degrading, manipulation, cnc recording.

authors note: ooof, suna makes me go whoosh. anyways, i’m trying out a new theme... idk how to feel about it. make include some pictures or sum, idk idk idk...

Talk Shit Get Hit Bitch! 😎🤏🤬

four people are online...

best twin : ??? suna disappeared fast

bestest twin : where’d sunsun go? 👀

foxbutmakeitsexy : don’t call me that

foxbutmakeitsexy : n who changed my name?

jinbutwithouttheg : if we r talking abt stupid names

best twin : i think tsumu has the worst one

bestest twin : whatdja say?

jinbutwithouttheg : gorls don’t fight!!

jinbutwithouttheg : siriusly tho ... where did suna go?

foxbutmakeitsexy was online one minute ago

bestest twin : HUH?!??!

it was as if you were meant to see it. the album stored amongst the many photo albums that rintarou had, only difference was that this particular album looked like something out of a hentai manga. photos upon photos, some edited into different colors, others blurry but still noticeably you, and videos upon videos of just you, some of both of you, some of him. there hundreds of them, all staring back at you, seemingly mocking you.

you were only trying to take the phone to him, after he practically screamed from the living room that he forgot it and asked if you could take it to him. it was almost as if he wanted you to see the album, his phone’s bright light enchanting your eyes after picking the device up. it was like he knew that your curious nature would cause you to look.

“uh,” your voice was a bit soft, eyes looking everywhere but the questioning expression being sent your way. you hand the phone over, hands immediately coming together to twiddle your thumbs. “rin, those pictures of me are rather... bothersome?”

in actuality, it stroked your ego knowing that rintarou considered you beautiful enough store photos of you in your worse states. but, being the usual worrywart, you couldn’t help but think of possible hackers.

what if they hacked rintarou’s phone?

oh my god, what if they post your pictures and videos?

sell them? that was even worse, possible old perverts would be wacking to them.

you shudder.

“bothersome?” you can’t meet his eyes, knowing what his tone meant. “but you were begging me to take those pictures and videos, baby?”

“i...was not.” your face became flustered, you don’t remember that. but, you are most likely half brain dead whenever he decided to fuck you silly.

“oh?” he’s up then, standing in front you. “you’re not?” the brightness of his phone is a bit blinding, and as your eyes adjust, you can see perfectly as the video plays before you.

the lewd sounds bursting through the speakers, the way your bodies move together is nearly hypnotic, your voice begging for more, for everything.

you look away, but before you did, you see multiple notifications from a group chat coming in. you didn’t register it.

“just delete them, or, or, print them out!”

his fingers turn your jaw, causing you to gaze up into his eyes. they’re narrowed, glowering at you. “but, you can’t print out videos, those are the best.”

your teeth grit, forcibly jerking your head away from his grip. “just delete them, suna rintarou! i won’t have my nudes plastering around the internet.” and with that demand, you turn on your heels and walk away.

which was definitely not your smartest idea. you knew how rintarou was, you knew how quick his moods could change, and how quick he could have you bent and choking on his cock.

you could only freeze when you feel his fingers slither around the roots of your hair, a yelp leaving your lips when he yank harshly, sending you trembling back into his embrace. his other hand came up, wrapping around your throat in loose hold.

“watch your tone, whore.” he whispered against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “you wanted those videos, you wanted those pictures.”

“i-i didn’t—”

“hm, you did. you begged for them like the good little slut you are,” his hand tightened around your neck. “you wanted them, yes or no?”

you breath in heavily, eyes watering. “no.”

“wrong answer.”

“rin-rintarou!” you squeal lightly when you’re suddenly thrown over his shoulder, the tall male practically kicking the bedroom door open, dropping you onto the bed and ordering you to stay put.

you could only watch as he closed the door before stalking towards you, something deep within his eyes that you couldn’t began to understand.

you only blinked and found yourself being dragged forward by your neck, forced onto your knees on the edge of the bed, rintarou glares down into your eyes.

shuddering, you open your mouth to say something, but is cut off by rintarou. “shut your fucking mouth, bitch.” your mouth closed immediately, brows furrowing before relaxing just as quick when he slotted his mouth against yours.

the kiss becoming messy quickly, your salvia mixing with his, teeth and tongues clashing. his hand loosen around your neck, both large hands coming down on your ass with a smack, enclosing around the fleshly meat tightly. you groan in appreciation, sticking your bottom further out.

your arms circle around his neck, pulling him closer to your body, your silk clad breast pressing against his bare chest. his teeth clamp onto your bottom lip, pulling softly before his tongue slips between his teeth and entangle with yours.

his hands knead and pull at your ass, smacking them a few times before sliding up your sides, hands latching onto your breasts. you hum, leaning back and giving him room to play around with your erect nipples.

his mouth leaves yours, “fucking slut, you’re enjoying this too much.” his words are warm against your cheek. “i can change that.” you can’t, you wanted to say. he wasn’t the best at giving out punishments, not when he, himself, enjoys fucking you a bit too much.

his lips trail down your cheek and jawline, before instantly attacking your neck with a sharp bite, you gasp and try to push him away, but just as quick as he bit, he was pulling away and giving soft licks to soothe over the harsh imprint.

“r-rintarou...” you whisper brokenly, the pain and pleasure mixing.

the taller pulled back fully, eyeing the teeth mark on your neck, humming in pride at his mark against your smooth skin.

“on your back.” his tone was rough, promising actual pain if you didn’t listen. so, you could only do as told, laying on your back and keeping your legs closed. his hands came down, spreading your legs and landing sharp slaps against both of them. you yelp, trying to close them, but he quickly slotted himself between them.

his phone is presented, his eyes staring deep into yours. “record.”

“n-no,” you deny, shaking your head.

he raised a brow, “now.” he ordered.

you gulp and take the phone, clicking onto the camera icon and sliding over to record.

rintarou smirked at you, leaving you breathless at the sudden heated stare, he’s fingers were pushing your panties away, blowing onto your heated cunt, your thighs tensing.

then, he’s devouring you. and your hands shake as the pleasure crawls from your core, extending through your legs and curling around yours toes, and your thumb accidentally pressed record and the ding sounds around the room.

your whimpers are already filling the room, free hand coming down and tangling through rintarou’s messy locks. his hands are tight around your thighs, squeezing and pushing them closer around his head, locking him in.

“ngh-ah!” your toes are curling, hand gripping tighter at his hair as you could feel yourself growing closer by the second. rintarou eating you out was always a blessing and a curse, he knew which parts of your cunt to fiddle around at to make you quickly.

he pulled back then, the camera catching the glistening of your arousal, coating his mouth and his chin, and the obvious satisfaction in his hooded eyes was daunting.

he wasn’t satisfied because he had you whimpering.

he wasn’t satisfied that he could make you cum almost immediately.

no, he was satisfied because he got you to record. he’s satisfied, and he smirked so devilishly at the camera that you nearly drop the device.

in a swiftness, he has the camera pointing in your direction. and you hide your face, not wishing for the camera to catch your already winded look.

he laughed, unbuckling his belt and his pants fall to the floor, he worked around like a pro, easily moving his briefs down. he steps out of his pants and briefs, and dragging you closer to the edge of the bed.

“look at the camera, [y/n]~” he teased, but you could hear the underlying threat. you shake your head. “don’t be shy, baby.” the tone sounded loving, but you could hear the threat.

look or suffer the consequences.

you move your head, revealing your flustered expression. behind the phone, rintarou grinned almost predatory.

the phone tilted, showing your body, still clad in your silky nightgown. the silk bunched around your waist, and you try to close your legs, but a single glance around the phone and you’re spreading your legs.

he crouched then, showing the camera your wet, dripping cunt. his fingers appearing, spreading your puffy lips. “so pretty.” he muttered, then his eyes are meeting yours. “i’m going to ruin you.” he said the magic words that would always send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

your eyes flutter, and you nodded eagerly. the phone in his hands long forgotten.

the next few moments are hazy, his imposing figure looming over you, legs hiking up around his waist, and you could only snap your eyes wide when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“hm, b-big!” you sob, a few tears slipping from your eyes. no matter how many times you’ve taken him, he sheer size and girth will always leave you crying. your sob turns into moans of pleasure when rintarou began to move his hips, the pace slow and a bit tantalizing.

“you take me so well, pup.” you keen loudly at the name, eyes rolling. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “you’re a good puppy, huh?”

“y-yes, ‘m good,” you whine, hands clutching the sheets beside you.

you could feel the flutters in your stomach each time rintarou slowly dragged his cock out, only to push back in roughly and repeat the process. he was teasing you now, wanting you to turn into a whining, begging mess, and more importantly, he wanted to catch all on camera.

the lewd wet sounds were only growing by the second, the burning feeling surrounding your cunt causing more arousal to gush out.

your eyes flutter open, and for a small moment, you wish you hadn’t. the camera was pointed directly were you two joined together, catching the way his cock plunged into you, the way your cunt stretched around him, and the fucking wet sounds emitting.

you whine loud in the back of your throat, throwing your head back onto the pillow. the humiliation and embarrassment slowly enclosing you in its hands, yet it only burned like fire and your body felt too incredibly hot.

you almost felt delirious, the camera, his cock, the temperature around the room, the fucking silk gown clinging to you.

“rin — ngh, f-fuck!” you could barley get any words out, eyes hooded and mouth dropping open. the pace was too slow, too hot, you wanted to say something, tell him to go faster, but the small ounce of pride you had left kept those words locked up.

you wouldn’t beg.

you look up suddenly, whining when noticing him taking a step back and crouching down. you wanted to close your legs, but his shoulders were already there and his fingers were spreading your puffy lips apart, revealing your sopping cunt.

“looks so good, pretty girl,” rintarou groaned lowly. “who’s cock got you this wet?” looking to your left, you mumbled the answer. a sharp slap sounded, the pain in your thigh sending another gush of arousal and you moan prettily. “speak up, pup.”

“yours did, rin!”

rintarou hummed, rubbing your thigh as to soothe the pain. “my cock is the only one that gets you this wet, right?”

“y-yes!” you shudder.

you can practically feel his smirk as he asked the next question. “you want my cock in you?”

“rin!” you whine, tears of frustration forming.

“answer the question.” he was full on grinning now, watching your reaction over his phone.

“yes, i want your cock in me.”

“beg for it,” you could practically mouth the words with him. he was getting a bit predictable.

you wouldn’t beg, you reminded yourself. no matter how much you wanted his — he stood up, drawing your attention to his erect cock, and suddenly your mouth was opening.

“i... rin, fuck me,” you whine. “i need your cock in me, please.” if there was one thing you hated the most, it was begging.

dumb bitch, you weren’t supposed to beg! you insulted yourself, fucking dick whipped seriously.

the phone lowered from rintarou’s face, revealing the dark look in his eyes. the satisfied smirk. he shut his phone off, grabbing his pants and disappearing into the bathroom.

your eyes widen then, he had gotten what wanted. you stand up immediately, rushing after him into the bathroom.

“rintarou!” you enter the bathroom, seeing the male standing before the glass shower. one look over his shoulder, and you only gasp in horror.

Talk Shit Get Hit Bitch 😎🤏🤬 | 200+ unread messages

foxbutmakeitsexy is online...

bestest twin : suna u little shit!

jinbutwithouttheg : not u suddenly appearing from the dead

best twin : 😎🤏🙄 and where have u been?

foxbutmakeitsexy : 😏

jinbutwithouttheg : i dont like that face

bestest twin : is that suna?

best twin : hol up smth aint right

foxbutmakeitsexy has sent a video...

jinbutwithouttheg : oh...

bestest twin : 😎🤏😌 ive been blessed ✨

best twin : 🤭 not me finna ask for a threesome

jinbutwithouttheg : miss y/n girl... whew

foxbutmakeitsexy : i was busy 🙄

note — i am disgust 😎🤏😭 i rlly left yall without an orgasm. my sincerest apologies, but miss y/n girl, u got a bad boyfriend.

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.7)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 4,457 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use Author’s Note:  **This chapter starts with a very angry and violent Tony. If that is triggering, do not read it. Plus, it mentions him doing cocaine and with RDJ's past, that may be offensive to some! Head's up! You have been warned**

Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Three months ago (cont.)…

You were happy you had arrived in a bathing suit already. Cassandra already had a handful of people over – luckily all people that you knew – swimming in her pool.

“So, what’s up?” Cassandra asked you, leading you towards the bar.

“Nothing just… wanted to come over.” She stared at you and you said, “God, fine. Tony pissed me off. You wanna take some shots?”

“What? Why? I am… Y/N, I am high.” She laughed. “I cannot be drinking. You know I do not do well crossfaded.”

“I’ll do one myself then.”

Walking around the bar, you grabbed one of the bottles of rum off the mantel and poured yourself a double. Cassandra snorted and you told her, “I needed that.”

“What was it about now?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it. It’s just gonna make me mad all over again. Let’s just hang out and have fun and relax.” You spotted a picture on the counter. “Oh my god. Is this from your new video?” you asked picking up the photo. Cassandra nodded excitedly. “Oh my god, you look great. Your body looks amazing. How did he feel?”

Cassandra snorted. “Like every other male pornstar ever? His cock was hard, and he was plowing me.”

You shook your head, placing the photo back down on the counter. “You really are brave for doing that.”

“Brave?” she laughed.

“Yeah. I mean. God, doing escort work is one thing. It’s just you and a john – or two or three, depends. But it’s just that. There’s no cameras or anything. You though? You’ve got cameras all around, a whole crew watching the whole thing. You’re taking direction while getting dicked. That’s gotta be a lot of pressure.”

Cassandra started laughing. You realized how ridiculous you sounded, and you started laughing too. “Oh god, let’s go out to the pool. I obviously need some air.”

“Obviously,” Cassandra agreed, linking arms with you.

The shots hit the blood stream quick and consequently opened the flood gates too in a short amount of time. On your way upstairs, you stopped to take another shot. Cassandra was telling you about the trip she was going to take with her sugar daddy and you groaned, remembering why you were so mad at Tony all over again. The two of you walked up the stairs, arms linked to the bathroom. She continued telling you about the things they had planned while standing outside the bathroom, giving you privacy.

“I think I’m starting to come down,” she said to you. “I’m gonna have to light up another one. Do you want to share a joint?”

“Mhm, maybe,” you called as you pulled your suit bottoms back up.

Movement outside the window caught your eye.

Oh no.

Tony’s car was outside Cassandra’s house, right behind yours. You saw him get out of the car, followed by Mikhail and Louis.

“Fuck me!” you hissed before turning around. You completely forgot he could track the car and now he was going to cause a scene.

“You gotta hide me!” you exclaimed, coming into her bedroom, grabbing her hands.

Cassandra’s eyes widened and she returned alarmed, “Wait, what?”

“Tony! The driveway!”

“Okay? Is this bad?”

“Yes! I might have… driven not entirely sober over here. And left without telling him. After we had gotten into an argument.”

You heard some commotion downstairs and you looked at her pleadingly.

“Fuck!” Cassandra spat.

“Y/N!” you heard Tony bellow from downstairs.

You looked around wildly in the bedroom. “Fuck, do you have somewhere you can hide me and pretend I left? Like, I just left my car. Took an uber!”

“Y/N, there is nowhere to hide you in here that they aren’t going to find you. I don’t have secret rooms like Tony has! I’m not a goddamn billionaire!” Cassandra hissed at you.

Tony’s shout echoed up the stairs, “Y/N! My patience is running really fucking goddamn thin!”

Cassandra pulled you close and stared deep into your eyes. “He’s going to find you, Y/N!”

“I don’t want him to. He’s so mad,” you said pathetically.

“Yeah, sounds like you did a bunch of shit to make him mad!”

“Don’t be mean!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone and pissed your daddy off. I don’t do that shit, Y/N. I keep mine happy.”

“He likes pushback—”

Something shattered downstairs and there were cries of alarm as Tony’s voice rang up the stairs – he was closer now. “Y/N, if you don’t come out by yourself, you are just making things worse for yourself!”

“He’s breaking my shit, Y/N!”

“I’ll replace it,” you hissed.

The pair of you stiffened hearing his footfalls on her wooden stairs and both of your gazes shot to the closet.

“Get in your closet,” you told her in hushed tones. She looked at you confused and you said, “Just do it! I’ll just stay out here and he won’t bother you!”

She did as you asked, closing the door as quietly as she could. Before you really had time to think, Tony appeared in the doorway. Your eyes immediately fell to the gun at his side and your stomach turned. His pupils were blown wide, and you knew he was high as hell. Cocaine no doubt; it was his favorite.

“Hey,” you tried weakly, eyeing the gun worriedly.

Tony stomped across the room, his hand closing in on your arm like a vice, tugging you to him.

“Daddy!” you cried out, wincing against his grip.

“Don’t ‘daddy’ me!” Tony growled. He shook you as he continued furiously, “How fucking stupid are you? Huh? Driving drunk? Do you not care how much that car cost? Do you have no regard for your own life? You have absolutely lost that fucking car!”

“I didn’t crash!” you argued, drunk ‘logic’ getting the better of you.

Tony laughed humorlessly, “You didn’t crash. You didn’t crash…” He threw his hands out, letting you go. “Right. Right. That’s true. You know what? Everything’s forgiven. Forgiven. Slate wiped clean.”

You asked uncertainly, “Really?”

He suddenly yanked you to him again causing you to yelp in alarm, your noses almost touching. “Your ass is going to be black and blue when I’m done with you!”

“Daddy, the gun—”

“I’m not gonna fucking shoot you, Y/N! Don’t be a dumb bitch.”

“Just be careful!” you pleaded.

“Oh, you are telling me to be careful?” Tony spat before his fingers dug in even further on your arm. “Why didn’t you come when I called?”

“I was going to the bathroom!” you half lied. “I wasn’t going to run out there with my pants down! Daddy, you’re hurting my arm.”

Tony chuckled darkly, ignoring what you said. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know!”

“Because I know you’re fucking lying!” He snarled, shaking you again. “You knew you were in big trouble and you were trying to avoid me!”

He began pulling you out of the room and towards the stairs. The two of you clamored down the stairs. You were wincing against how roughly he was handling you, the drugs doing him no favors in remembering to be gentler.

Louis was holding your purse having found it while Tony was upstairs searching for you.

“Drive her car home,” Tony ordered Loius who nodded in acknowledgment.

Tony only hesitated for a moment coming up to porcelain statue he had shattered. His gaze flicked to your bare feet and he guided you around it. You felt a sliver of relief seeing the thing he had broken was something Cassandra had gotten at Home Goods and was not attached to. The relief was short lived though, Tony dragging you down the steps of her house, across the porch towards the driveway. Mikhail was on your heels.

When you got to the car, he opened the back door and shoved you roughly into the backseat. “Get your ass in there!”

<><><>

At the elevator back home after eating dinner a couple nights after arriving in NYC, Tony led you onto it and pressed two different buttons. You eyed him suspiciously because one was the penthouse and the other was a different floor before it. He caught you staring.

“I need to go to the office first. You don’t have to go with me; you can go upstairs.”

“But—” you began to protest.

Tony hushed you with a deep kiss. “Come now, you can stand to be without me for a little while, yeah?”

Exhaling disappointed, you shrugged. You had gone shopping earlier in the day with Louis, picking up Tony one of his favorite bottles of bourbon and gourmet salted caramel to go on some ice cream. You had planned to give it to him tonight and even more so after the disappointing dessert the two of you had had at dinner. It was going to be perfect and now he was going to probably take forever and you would pass out before he would come upstairs.

“I’ll be up in a second,” Tony told you, giving you a kiss on the forehead. You gave him a sad look and he chuckled, “I promise. I’m not going to be working. I just need to send a quick e-mail.”

“That sounds like work to me…”

“It’s not. Trust me,” Tony assured you, giving you a light pat on the ass as the elevator dinged for his floor. He gave you another kiss and said, “Seriously. Fifteen minutes tops.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you muttered, much to his amusement. He waved at you before the elevator doors closed.

Scowling you, crossed your arms as the elevator started up again. When it opened at the penthouse, you walked in, tossing your purse on one of the chairs near the door and kicked your heels off. You sighed in relief, your bare feet on the marble. Making your way down the hall towards the kitchen, you thought about what you wanted to watch until Tony decided to show up again.

You stopped at the entrance to the kitchen seeing things on the counter that were not there before the two of you had left.

“What’s this?” you asked no one, frowning.

You walked closer and your eyes widened on one thing in particular. There was a large piece of fancy cheesecake on the counter with a large vase of your favorite flowers beside it along a gift bag.

“Oh thank god,” you said to yourself about the cheesecake.

You immediately went around the counter to grab a fork and came back to dig in for a big bite before hesitating. Maybe you should wait for him. But he also could take forever. You pivoted, looking towards the staircase, thinking. Putting the fork down next to the plate, you went upstairs quickly to grab the bags from earlier. If he got upset about you eating the piece before he got back upstairs, you would have his gift ready to placate.

You set the bag up nicely next to yours on the counter before picking the fork back up and taking the container lid off the piece of cheesecake. You took the first bite and sighed happily. As you chewed, you thought this could not have been sitting on the counter for long. He must have had someone grab it on the way back from the restaurant after he saw how put out you were by the piece of chocolate cake there.

After a few more bites, you put the fork down again and reached for the gift bag that had been left there. Tossing the tissue paper aside, you found loungewear from an online shop you liked.

You jumped at the sound of Tony’s voice. “That’s the right shop, right? That ethical one you were talking about?”

He came up from behind you and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, picking up the fork and digging into the cheesecake again. You held it up to him and he took a bite. “It’s their new line.”

“Now you’ve had authentic New York cheesecake. Supposed to be the best,” he said as he chewed. You smiled at that, taking another bite. “Far better than that shit at the restaurant. Sorry about that, baby. Hoped this might cheer you up.”

“It did, tremendously. Speaking of that,” you said putting the fork down and unwinding yourself from his embrace. You reached for the other bag and held it out to him.

“What’s this?” Tony asked, taking it from you. He pulled out the bourbon and snickered. His eyes though lit up at the caramel.

“See, you can put that on ice cream tonight to also make up for the shitty dessert. It’s like I saw the future!”

Tony hummed in approval, popping the lid off the jar. He took your fork and dipped in it, licking it off. He got some out for you and you licked it off tantalizingly, not breaking eye contact.

“I think I can think of something better than ice cream to put this on,” Tony commented, running his tongue along his lip.

You snorted, pushing away from him. “I already took a shower today.” He screwed the lid back on the container and placed it back on the counter, following you, trying to grab you. You slapped his hand away and said, “Ugh, let me finish my cheesecake!”

“It’ll be there after I’m done finishing you,” Tony said. “I haven’t returned the favor from the other day.” You let him grab you, yanking you close, smiling wildly. “I wanna taste you, kitten.”

Sighing, you said, “I suppose I can allow it.”

Tony rose his eyebrows, playfully, “Oh, you are gonna allow it?” You nodded, running your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “Who put you in charge?”

“Me.”

“That’s cute, kitten,” Tony said, dipping down to plant a deep kiss on your lips.

He began guiding you backwards towards the living room, your lips never leaving the other’s, until your legs hit the back of one of the couches. You fell back onto the couch and Tony followed, hiking your short skirt up past your hips. Your panties were torn down your legs and he laid a trail of kisses up one thigh and then the other, nuzzling slowly at your sex between. He was taking it slow, working up to pressing his tongue in. Your fingers curled up in his hair, bucking towards him when he gave a suck at your pearl. Tony slipped two fingers in, curling them to hit your g spot. He was good at alternating between the two and had you coming down around his tongue in record fashion.

Coming up, his lips were glistening, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. You beckoned him to you tiredly and he did as you asked. You sat up to meet his lips, kissing him slowly.

“Thanks for the gifts. All of them.”

“You know I’m never going to complain about seeing you in tight yoga pants,” he said, his lips brushing yours with a smile. “Those were a gift for the both of us.”

“Ass,” you said hitting his chest and he laughed in return.

<><><>

The following evening leaving an event, your fingers tip toed up Tony’s arm, trying to bring him out of his concentration. He had been on his phone since the moment the two of you had gotten into the back seat of the Escalade.

“Yes, kitten?” he asked, his eyes still trained on his phone.

“Can we go to this address I have?” you asked, holding up a slip of paper.

“What address?”

“A sightseeing place.”

Tony sighed, still not looking at you, “Y/N, we have dinner being delivered to the penthouse.”

“Yes, but there are people there to bring it up for us. And they can put it into the fridge. It can wait!”

He did not say anything in response, and you shook his arm. You saw Mikhail’s lips twitching in amusement at your persistence in the seat in front of the two of you.

“Why do we need to go to this address?’

Exasperated, you said, “I just told you. It’s a sightseeing place.”

“Of course it is. But why?”

“Daddy, it’s my first time in NYC! I just wanna see things and you’re not being nice about it.”

Tony finally put his phone down and looked you in the eyes.

“You think I’m not nice to you?”

“Not right now,” you returned, looking pitiful. Tony cocked his head, staring at you. You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. He said nothing and you moved up, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Please? I won’t ask for anything else.”

He snorted loudly, “I find that really hard to believe.”

“I promise. For the rest of the day.”

“There’s the catch,” Tony nodded. He exhaled loudly and relented, “Fine. Tell the driver.”

You did not waste a second to reach forward and hand the piece of paper to Mikhail. “Can you pass this up to Happy so he can put it into the GPS for the driver?”

“Why aren’t you just telling me where we are going?” Tony asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Because it’s not really your thing.”

“Perfect,” Tony said sarcastically. You snuggled back up against him, and your hand brushed across his lap. He caught your hand and whispered, “Not right now, you little minx.” You stuck out your bottom lip and he smirked in response before leaning down and giving you a kiss and then going back to work on his phone.

When you were getting close, Tony began to realize where you were going and he asked just as you pulled, “Why here, though?”

You gestured up at the building. “Because it is beautiful? Look at it! Imagine what the inside looks like!”

“It’s a church, Y/N. There are thousands – millions, probably – like it all over this country.”

You stuck out your bottom lip. “Daddy, please. There’s not many churches like this, that’s a lie!”

“Christ.”

By his tone, you knew you had broken his resolve. You slapped him in the chest, a smile coming across your face. You gripped his collar and pulled him close. “That’s the spirit!”

He realized what you said and got the joke just as you pecked him on the nose and let go of his collar.

“Where can we get out?” you asked excitedly, and you did not miss the amused look on his face at your happiness. You felt butterflies at his adoration and then a sinking feeling, anxiety creeping back in like it had been ever since you had found out you were pregnant. Shoving it away, you tried to think about the beautiful photos you were going to take inside.

<><><>

“Hey,” you said walking up to Pepper’s desk and placing the iced coffee you had bought her in front of her.

“Afternoon, Y/N,” Pepper said eyeing the coffee.

“Oh, I got that for you. I got an extra shot because and it’s almond milk.” Pepper seemed surprised and you added quickly, “I remembered that time I heard you order it.”

“That… is sweet. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said before taking a drink of your own coffee. “That cathedral was amazing.”

“Oh, you actually went.” She sounded shocked.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah. Not last night but the night before. You said it was nice, so I begged. I actually didn’t tell him what it was before we got there, he just told me to give the driver the address. Tony’s not really a church going person so he wasn’t entirely thrilled. But he enjoyed himself.”

“I can’t imagine Tony inside a church for any reason,” Pepper told you, taking a drink of her coffee.

“He did say ‘Christ’ before we went in. So, the energy was there, it was just misguided.”

She actually snorted at your joke. “Now that I can imagine.”

Silence fell between the two of you and you shifted uncomfortably, looking out her window. You had come in here for a reason but it was not easy to shift gears.

“Are you alright?” Pepper asked hesitantly.

Biting your bottom lip, you thought about how to approach what you wanted to say. But there really was no easing into it, especially since you were not going to be around her all the time. “I know this is really sudden and weird and I don’t want you to think I only got the coffee to try to make you happy and listen to me. The coffee is really a thanks for all the suggestions and taking it seriously when I asked you for the suggestions.” You inhaled deeply and then said slowly, “But, I was thinking – hoping, really – that maybe you can talk to Tony.”

You had her attention. Her hands fell from the keyboard, looking concerned.

“About?”

“Uh you know… having a baby… like… at all.”

Pepper was staring at you flabbergasted and you sucked in your lips, staring at her in return, wanting her to say anything. Uncomfortably, she said, “Y/N. That is a conversation you need to have with Tony. Not me.”

You flopped into her chair opposite her desk. “It would be better coming from someone else. Especially someone close to him like you are you. Happy sure as hell won’t.”

“Um, okay,” Pepper said. “W-why does this need to happen?”

“I’m sure he’s gonna get tired of me, find someone else, and then I’m just gonna be stuck with this baby. That I have no idea what to do with.”

Again, she looked floored by what you said and you had a sinking feeling this conversation was not going to go the way you hoped.

“I don’t think Tony is going to leave you, Y/N. I would actually be shocked,” Pepper said carefully. “And he’s excited about the baby. Really excited. He won’t shut up about it actually.”

Great.

Sighing heavily, you explained further, “I think he’s gonna regret it. Because it’s completely going to destroy my body. Like my stomach and my hips are never going to be the same. And my breasts.”

“Is that what you’re concerned about?’ Pepper asked, unable to keep the disdain out of her voice.

You shrugged quickly. “I’m worried about a lot of things that I don’t have time to get into detail about. But I mean, he didn’t get with me because of my intelligence.” Pepper narrowed her eyes and you pressed on quickly, “But, I just thought maybe you could try to talk to him, you know, some sense into him about it? He would listen to you. If I tell him having a baby is a bad idea…” you paused and then shook your head, shrugging. “He’ll think I’m just having a moment and won’t take me saying we shouldn’t have the baby seriously. He’ll think I’m being dramatic. Which is something I am a lot of the time, so it’s a good point normally. Can’t fault him there. But if you talked to him, he would choose—”

Happy walked in then and you immediately shut up, leaning back. He was not looking at you and you bit your lip, wondering if he had heard anything.

You noticed Pepper was watching you with curiosity about how quickly you had gone silent at his presence.

“Do you have that file for Tony? He’s about to call Gene.”

“Yeah,” Pepper nodded. “I’ll e-mail it to him. Sorry, I got busy this morning.”

“Hey, Happy,” you greeted, trying to play it cool. Happy turned his head to look at you and you asked, “So, um, I’m kind of hungry. Is there anything I can have from the lobby?”

“Y/N. Tony already has lunch plans for you. You know that.”

“Right,” you said. You did not miss the confused expression on Pepper’s face at his response, even if it was only there for a moment. You decided to try to press your luck. “But, I meant, Tony usually takes a lot of time in his meetings and I’m pregnant so…” Happy stared back at you in silence and you moved. “Okay, I’ll just go do it—”

He held up his hand and shook his head. Sighing, sounding reluctant, he asked, “What would you like?”

“Like… a banana. Or something. Something healthy.”

Nodding, Happy said, “Right. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked back out of the room.

You turned your attention back to Pepper, who was still looking at the door suspiciously where Happy had walked off before meeting your gaze again. You joked weakly, “Maybe being pregnant isn’t so bad. Everyone kind of just waits on you hand and foot.”

“I think you should talk to Tony, Y/N,” Pepper reiterated. “It’s perfectly normal to feel nervous. I’m sure most mothers to be do feel nervous. And I don’t think he’ll brush you off.”

“Sometimes he does,” you muttered, taking a drink of your tea.

“I think… with something important like this, he’ll actually listen. He’s not a complete ass.” You smiled softly at that and she nodded. “Trust me.”

Knowing how excited Tony was about the baby – Pepper did not need to tell you that herself, he made it abundantly clear to you. He had been asking you if you had thought about how you wanted to decorate the nursery already – made the thought of a conversation difficult. Tony was not one to be dissuaded from something he wanted, especially something important. He was stubborn to a fault. But maybe she was right.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” you admitted.

She nodded encouragingly.

Happy returned with the banana from the communal space outside their offices.

“Are we going to go soon? Do you know?” you asked him, as he handed it to you.

“Tony’s got another meeting and then we’re going.”

You sighed, leaning back on the couch. You knew ‘another meeting’ could range from five minutes to an hour depending on who it was. “Thank you. This will help,” you said holding up the banana, weakly.

Happy nodded, “Of course.”

“Emailing it,” Pepper told him and he thanked her before walking out of the office.

You blew out a raspberry as soon as he was gone. “I suppose I should go out and leave you to your work. Plus it’ll be easier to find me whenever Tony does want to go. I don’t want that to take longer than necessary. I’m serious, I’m starving.” You stood up from the chair and told her sincerely, “I’ll figure out how to approach this.”

“Good,” she said, nodding again. “It’ll be fine.”

You wished you felt as confident as she sounded.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25, @lilacs-lavender, @agustdowney, @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx 

[bbangsoonie]

tangerine guesthouse

member: haknyeon genre: fluff word count: 2,238 synopsis: on a healing trip to jeju island, you meet a guesthouse owner who goes the extra step to make sure you enjoy your stay.

a/n: happy birthday to our jeju boy, juhaknyeon ! 🍊

After impulsively quitting your job, you packed a suitcase and booked a last minute flight to Jeju Island. You wanted to escape but unfortunately didn’t have enough money for an international flight. So you found yourself flying over on a domestic plane.

Everything about this journey was spontaneous. The money you saved up on the side from your tedious 9-5 job was all spent on this healing trip. With nothing but a camera in your hands, you were determined to finally rest and have fun for once. You hadn’t had the luxury to do so in years.

Before you left Incheon Airport, you reserved a room at a random bed and breakfast you found online. “Tangerine Guesthouse”. It had a cute name.

The taxi dropped you off in front of the place and you cautiously walked in with your bag rolling behind you. You peaked inside the building, unsure if you were supposed to just enter.

“Hello!” a chirpy voice greeted you. Startled, you jumped as you turned around to face the person who nearly gave you a heart attack. Seeing him only made your heart beat faster. He was cute. Extremely cute.

“Are you here to rent a room?” he asked.

“Y-Yes, I made a reservation a couple of hours ago,” you pulled out your phone to show him the details.

“Ah, Y/n! Yes, welcome,” he beamed. “My name is Juhaknyeon but please call me Haknyeon.”

You reached out to shake his hand and were surprised to feel how soft they were.

“Allow me to show you to your room,” he said before guiding you upstairs.

The room was fairly small but cozy. It had everything you needed and made a cute space for photos. After Haknyeon left, you began to unpack.

You heard a knock on the door and mindlessly told your guest to come in. You looked up when they entered, surprised to see another male.

“Hello! I’m Sunwoo and I’m staying in the room next to yours,” he introduced himself. “I just wanted to stop by to say hi and get friendly.”

“Nice to meet you, Sunwoo. I’m Y/n,” you smiled.

“The other guests and I are gathering this evening to just chat over beer. Would you like to join us as well? We’d love to have you,” he said.

On a normal occasion, the introvert in you would have declined. However, you were on a healing trip and resolute about trying new things. So you happily accepted the invitation and promised to meet them in the yard at 7.

You had about four hours until then and decided to kill time by exploring the neighborhood. You enjoyed the change in scenery and the fresh air that Seoul could not offer.

You found yourself alone at a nearby beach and embraced the solitude. There were no managers yelling at you about deadlines or coworkers passive aggressively criticizing your work here. It was just you and the roaring waves. Grabbing your camera, you took a few shots of the salty sea. Perhaps you would return to your hobby and pursue photography.

You allowed yourself to consider it as an option as you headed back to the streets to look for a restaurant. You settled for the closest one and were satisfied with your choice when you took a bite of their seafood ramen.

You roamed around a bit more after the meal. You came across a souvenir shop and ended up spending a lot of time—and money—there. You certainly had a thing for cliche souvenirs. Keychains, magnets, mugs. You loved them all.

You came back to the lodging with a bag full of trinkets you knew you would keep instead of gifting. The retail therapy added a bounce in your walk as you climbed up the stairs. You organized them accordingly as you happily hummed.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was time to convene with the rest of the boarders. You threw on a cardigan before going back outside.

Haknyeon was by the grill flipping meat and Sunwoo was busy taking out the drinks from the fridge. You awkwardly stood around, not knowing where to go.

“Take a seat wherever you want,” Sunwoo called out.

Finding an empty spot, you sat down and looked around. The yard was decorated nicely to bring a nice ambiance.

“Hi, I’m Eric and this is Hyunjoon,” the guy next to you grinned.

You exchanged greetings with the two and introduced yourself. You had to admit it was nice to meet such amiable people.

The night went by with the five of you conversing over black pig samgyupsal and alcohol. Haknyeon was a big foodie, Sunwoo was a big tease, Eric was a big dork, and Hyunjoon was a big sports enthusiast. Hyunjoon came to Jeju to enjoy horseback riding and planned on dragging Sunwoo and Eric along.

“If you guys are down for some physical activity, I can destroy you in badminton,” Haknyeon suggested.

“Loser has to down a bottle of soju. Each,” Eric laughed evilly.

To make the teams fair, you were paired up with Haknyeon to play against the other three. He definitely proved his worth as the ace, easily winning 21-12. Sunwoo let out a scream, blaming Eric for his punishment suggestion. The latter tried to run away but was caught by Hyunjoon who handed him a bottle.

They all retreated to their rooms after fulfilling their penalty, leaving you and Haknyeon to clean up. The work was done relatively quickly and you made it back to your bed before midnight.

The next morning, you came out of your room clutching your Ryan doll that doubled as a pillow. You mumbled a “good morning” to Haknyeon who was preparing breakfast and chuckled at your appearance.

“Cute,” he commented on your tastes. You replied with a yawn, still not fully awake.

“The guys are probably gonna be hungover so I’m making some soup. I hope that’s okay with you,” he said.

He rolled up his sleeves before washing his hands. He then grabbed a knife and began cutting the vegetables. Your nose wrinkled at the sight of onions. You had forgotten to mention how picky you were. It was an embarrassing conversation to have as an adult. You had to explain how your childish tastebuds never matured while people let out an incredulous gasp. It was something you had to disclose every time you ate with someone new and it was honestly pretty tiring. People didn’t understand that you didn’t choose to be picky. Your tongue just refused the tastes of a lot of foods. It was more inconvenient for you than anyone else.

Nevertheless, you were excited to try the food made by the self proclaimed food connoisseur. You would just have to pick out the vegetables later.

The two of you decided to just eat together after the guys refused to wake up before noon. Haknyeon took a seat in front of you after he set the table and you thanked him.

To your relief, he didn’t seem so shocked by your childlike palate. He let the conversation end by saying something about respecting other people’s preferences.

Noticing your hair falling in front of your face, he got up to go look for something. He returned with a hair tie which he offered to you. It was just a courteous gesture but it still made you giddy regardless. The hair tie was probably just a spare left by previous guests but to you, it was a token. Something to remember him by.

“So, Y/n, what brings you to Jeju?” he questioned.

You’ve heard your name before many times in your life. Obviously. But hearing it from his voice felt different. The way your name rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh you know, just the typical “I wanted to get away from the city” trope,” you hummed.

“Classic,” he nodded.

After breakfast, Haknyeon volunteered to be your tour guide for the day. He showed you his favorite places in town and even drove further out to take you to the photo exhibition you wanted to see. You had a blast, taking a bunch of pictures to commemorate your trip.

When he asked why you used such a fancy camera and why you took photos of everything, you simply shrugged in response. Truthfully, you didn’t know why either.

For lunch, he brought you to a sashimi place where you bonded over a large platter of raw fish. Both the view and quality of the restaurant were amazing. And your company too, of course.

“Do your guests always get such personalized treatment?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Honestly? No,” he laughed. “I’m not that great of a host. Nor do I have the time and money to.”

“Then what’s all this? Today?”

“Hmm… I’m not quite sure.”

You left it at that and let him take you to an aquarium. Haknyeon had more fun watching you than looking at the animals. You were like a little kid in a candy store. Everything was fascinating to you.

The last time you visited an aquarium was for a field trip when you were in elementary school. It felt like you were going back to your childhood roots.

You made it back to the guesthouse in time for dinner. This time, you insisted on cooking. With the ingredients left in the fridge, you made kimchi fried rice. The smell lured the others down to join you two in the kitchen.

The rest of the night was rather uneventful, which you appreciated. You got to relish time just passing by. It was exactly what you came to Jeju for.

Back in your room, you connected your camera to your laptop to browse through the photos. Looking at them, you noticed that Haknyeon was in half of them.

“Maybe it was him I wanted to save in my memory,” you whispered under your breath.

Another week went by and you wished time would flow slower. Hyunjoon was the first to leave the guesthouse and it already felt a lot emptier without him. You hated goodbyes. You hated how all good things had to eventually come to an end.

The feeling made you cherish the remaining time you had left on the island. You spent your evenings with the guys and frequently chatted in the group chat with all five of you in it. You never expected to grow so fond of strangers you barely got to know. Haknyeon, in particular, had a special place in your heart.

He often took you out on what you liked to believe were dates. Under the guise of being your tour guide, he showed you the hidden parts of his hometown. Though he was slightly disappointed that your favorite thing from all the menus you’ve tried was the black sesame frappuccino from Starbucks.

“Really? Of all the things you’ve eaten and drank, you choose something from a chain store?” he had whined.

“Hey, they only have it here. I can’t get it anywhere else,” you defended.

He made it his mission to find you something local that would triumph over your love for the Starbucks drink. A close second was the makgeolli made and sold only in Jeju.

By the time Sunwoo and Eric left, you and Haknyeon had gotten extremely close. With him, it was so easy to open up and just be you. You practically lived in his room. You slept over after late night movies and cuddles.

Neither of you ever verbally defined your relationship. You were both somewhat afraid to ask what exactly you two were. Instead, you focused on each other.

“So you’re picking up photography again?” he asked with your head resting on his chest. The two of you were lazing around on the couch with a random show on for background noise.

“Possibly. It was always an interest of mine. I thought I’d get to have it as a side-job once I started working full time but I never got around to it. Trying to make a living was a lot harder than I thought it’d be,” you revealed.

“You definitely have the talent. I think you should take the opportunity and go for it,” he encouraged.

The idea lingered on your mind as the second week flew by. Your passion for photography had been pushed to the side as you struggled as a paycheck worker. You missed taking up odd gigs for extra cash in college.

On your last night at the guesthouse, you paused in the middle of dinner to stare at Haknyeon. The more time you spent with him, the more you didn’t want to leave. Changing your career path because of a guy was crazy. Moving to an island because of said guy that you only met two weeks ago was even crazier. But he inspired you to do what your heart desires. And that included being with him.

“What if I moved here to start freelancing? Publish that photography book I always dreamed of. Maybe set up my own studio one day,” you pondered aloud.

That proposition had many implications about the relationship between you two. He took a moment to carefully contemplate over it. Your heart pounded waiting for his response.

“If that’s what you truly want to do, I think that’d be nice,” he smiled, making your own face light up.

a/n: wow i was reminiscing my own time at jeju while writing this 🥺 and now, with this fic, i have officially written for all tbz members! :)

[eideticmemory]

GODPARENTS | SPENCER REID

Description: You’re a wonderful godmother, always have been. Nothing could distract you from that. Queue the entrance of the ultimate distraction: Godfather Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 2,757.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse.

Jennifer Jareau is the closest thing you’ve got to a big sister. Your parents had placed you in grief counseling shortly after a loss in the family. You were only nine, but it impacted greatly - you felt alone, misunderstood, lost, hurt, confused. Little did you know, a twelve-year-old JJ would be in the other room, distraught by the loss of her older sister. And once the two of you met, chatting, laughing, confessing your darkest secrets, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. Jennifer Jareau helped you heal, and you could only hope she’d say the same about you.

19 years later, with a friendship thick and strong as stone, she gave birth to your godson - Henry. She had asked you be his godmother long before her due date, insisting that there was no woman she trusted as much. You cried. You hugged her. You talked to her stomach. It was a good day.

The day Henry was born was even better. You met him just hours after his birth, and fell in love instantly. You kissed JJ on top of her head, told her she did such a good job, leaned in to hug Will and held your godson. He was the spitting image of his mother, and you cared for both of them immensely. However, with you living nearly an hour away at the time, your reunion with them was cut short.

By the time Henry turned one, you had a cozy Virginia apartment and went to see JJ as offen as possible. Even visiting Will and Henry when JJ was off on a case.

It wasn’t until Henry’s first birthday party that you met Spencer Reid. And everything began to fall apart.

JJ went all out. Balloons, bouncy houses, tons of food, tons of people, all gathered to celebrate little Henry. You, being the ditiful godmother, showed up with a bunch of presents in tow, ready to help JJ in any way you could.

Before having Henry blow out the candles on his birthday cake, Will and her took a family photo. “Okay!” She exclaimed. “[y/n], Spencer, come here! I want Henry to get a quick picture with both his godparents.”

You happily complied, skipping over to Henry with a great big smile on your face. Spencer was the first to introduce himself, “Hi,” he said, posing at Henry’s side with his vision focused on you. “I’m Spencer.”

“[y/n],” you smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard good things.”

“Same here,” he nodded.

You both crouched down to Henry’s level, smiling wide for the picture as JJ counted down, “Three, two, one!” She shouted, followed by the shutter of the camera. “Perfect! I’m getting that framed!”

You giggled at your friend’s excitement, looked at little Henry and gave him quick pecks all over his face. When you looked up at Spencer, he was watching you - a look of adoration on his face, a smile gracing his lips. You smiled back. And that’s how it started.

Later that night - when the lights had gone down, most of the guests had left, and the baby was asleep, - you were up in the guest room. Unpacking your bag, you listened to the distinct coversation between JJ and her coworkers - their laughs, the inside jokes, the bond.

Since it was adult time, you figured, one drink wouldn’t hurt. You pulled a small flask from your bag, checking the door before you stepped onto the balcony. You took in the view, and gulped down a considerable amount of alcohol, your nerves loosening by the second.

“Ah,” a voice called. “Holding out on us?”

You turned your body quickly, coming face to face with Spencer, who had his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaned against the balcony threshold. You giggled, “Well, I didn’t really think this was a perfect first-birthday-party activity, y’know?”

“Oh, no, I know,” he nodded, closing the sliding door behind him as he stepped outside. Even under the moonlight, he was utterly beautiful. “Got enough to share?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why, Spencer, I would’ve never taken you for the drinking type.”

“Only on special occasions,” he shrugged, taking the flask you handed him. He swallowed it down, with minimal reaction, and you felt your heartbeat between your legs. The breeze flew under your dress, making you shiver. “You cold?”

“Yeah, damn. It was just 80 degrees out. Now it’s freezing.”

“Here,” he said. “Take my sweater.”

You watched as he stripped the article of clothing from his shoulders, holding eye contact with you until your eyes trailed to his body. Stop that, you told yourself, stop looking at him like that, [y/n]. But you couldn’t. He was irresistible, and he knew it. When he’d completely removed the sweater, he was only left in a white button up, tucked into his belt buckle.

He didn’t even try to hand you the sweater. He dropped it to the ground, along with the flask, as you moved in to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands held onto his face as you shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning at the taste of him.

You excitedly began to fidget with his belt buckle, undoing his pants with phenomenal speed. He pushed you back against the wall, and you followed, so ready to go all the way with this man, the wait was unbearable. He kissed your neck as you freed his cock from his briefs, stroking him into a set erection.

Neither of you spoke a word.

He just picked you up, held you against the wall by your thighs, and kissed you as you pulled your dress up. You pulled your panties to the side and allowed him to put himself inside you. He buried his face in your shoulder, with you going cross-eyed from the intense feeling. You just barely remembered to stay quiet, whining into your mouth as he thrusted into you, hard.

You held onto his shirt for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist and moving your hips against his. “Fuck,” you whispered. He grinned against your skin, using all his strength to pound you into the wall. Slowly, though, as to not alert his friends downstairs.

You reached down and rubbed your clit, your mouth instantly forming an ‘o’ shape and your head rolling back. Combine that with Spencer’s cock striking all the right places, and you were a puddle. Your legs trembled, but he held onto them, his hands big enough to nearly wrap around your entire thigh. The rush started in the pit of your stomach, then it spread through your clit, and then your entire body. And you came, weakly, almost violently against Spencer’s body.

He stopped after that, pulling out of you and placing your feet back on the concrete gently. Despite being in a daze, you grabbed onto his cock and jerked him off quickly, staring at him as you did it.

“[y/n]—“ he moaned. “I’m—I’m—“

He did. He exploded all over you. Your thigh, your dress. All while falling apart into a fit of groans, having to hold himself up on the wall just to keep from crumbling to the ground. You smirked at the sight of him, glad to have gotten him off.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry about your dress.”

You shook your head, “I needed to shower anyway,” you shrugged. “Go on, everyone’s probably wondering where you went.” You smiled.

He kissed you. Once before he fixed his pants. And twice before he actually left the room. He left his sweater. You wore it to bed that night, sipping happily on the forgotten flask.

In the morning, JJ made breakfast. Enough pancakes and eggs to feed you, the baby, and her. You kissed her cheek before taking a seat at the table, tickling Henry and earning a cute, little giggle from him.

“Where’s Will?” You asked.

“Where else? Work. He couldn’t get out of his shift today, but believe me, he tried.”

“Aw, poor, poor William. I hope he atleast had fun yesterday.”

“He did. We were both tired afterwards, but we had a good time. Thank you for being here.”

“Oh, c’mon, JJ, you know I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. Godmommy duties!”

“And I’m so glad you got to meet Spencer,” she said. You gulped. “I told you if anything ever happens to me and Will—“

“Then, it’s up to Spencer and I to make sure Henry gets into Yale. I remember.” You giggled.

“Exactly. Did you get to talk to him last night?”

You thought for a moment. You could tell her. But the baby was right there. And you clearly remembered her mentioning a date between her and Spencer years ago. Was it a can of worms you should open? You decided it wasn’t.

“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “Not as much as I wanted. I kind of went to bed early.”

“Ah, well, one day, I want you to meet the whole team. I think it’s about time. Don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Over a month later, there was no word from Spencer. You thought about him often though. Where was he, what was he doing, was he thinking of you. Sappy shit. Then, you remembered, you knew exactly where he was. And you chose to visit the bullpen for the very first time.

You put on your tightest pair of jeans - the ones that made your butt look perky - and a spaghetti strap blouse that highlighted your chest. JJ told you that you looked beautiful and embraced you in a warm hug.

“This is such a surprise!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you! See where you worked, who you worked with, all that jazz.”

“Oh,” she giggled, rising from her seat. “Then let me give you the grand tour.”

You followed her aimlessly, only partially listening to his guidance, as you were primarily concerned with seeing Spencer. “That’s Derek, Emily, Penelope is in her office, and you remember Spencer.” She said.

Your eyes instantly found Spencer at his desk, the profiler already eyeing you with a knowing smile. You smiled back, “Of course. Hi, everyone.”

“Back there is our break room. Coffee, doughnuts. Want some?” JJ asked.

“Oh, yeah, coffee sounds great.” You nodded.

“I’ll get you some,” Spencer suddenly offered, rising from his seat and heading off before you could object.

“A nice little place you run here, J,” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t run it.”

“Well, you should.”

Spencer strolled up to you, a small styrofoam cup in his hand, and a great smile on his face. “Here you go. I put in cream and sugar. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“Spence, you remember [y/n] from Henry’s birthday party? She’s his godmother.”

“Ah, so the one that’s going to help Henry get into Yale?” He chuckled.

You shook your head, “Me? No, no. I could barely get into community college. That’s all on you.”

The three of you laughed, and JJ shook her head at you. “Are you free for a quick lunch?” She asked.

“Of course! You ready?”

Your friend nodded and swung her arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked away. Spencer watched you as you stepped onto the elevator, taking a sip of your coffee. Only then, did you notice the slip of paper tucked into the lid. It contained a string of numbers, signed - Spencer :). You looked up at him, just as the elevator doors were closing.

The night, you called him. He came over. You had sex in a bed for the first time. And it was just as good as you remembered it. If not better. His hands pressed into your thighs, your legs bent over your head as he drilled into you, the sweat from his body dripping onto yours. Your tongues tangled with one another’s, your hands gripped at anything they could. It was hot. It was satisfying. You came twice, and Spencer came with his cock in your mouth.

As the two of you laid there afterwards, cuddled up and out of breath, Spencer kissed your forehead. “Missed you.” He said.

You hid your face as you grinned. “Uh, do you want your sweater back?”

“No. You keep it. Think of me when you see it.”

Little did he know that you thought about him all the time.

2 months later, his number was on speed dial in your phone. The job kept him busy most days, but weekends belonged to you. You’d be at his apartment friday to sunday, miss him for a week, and then fall into the same routine. It was bliss.

You’d be laying beside each other, completely fucked out and attempting to calm your breathing. “Do you—“ Spencer huffed. “Do you want kids some day?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, sat up slowly and looked down at him. “Where the hell did that come from, Spencer?”

He shrugged, “I see how you are with Henry. Why don’t you have any of your own?”

You laughed, “Is that your way of saying you want to impregnate me?”

“Oh, don’t think that I haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, reaching over to hug you. “Go on a date with me, [y/n].”

You watched him say the words out loud, processing what it meant, waiting for your response. “A date?” You replied.

“A real date. Let me pick you at your place, and take you dancing, a movie, dinner, something. No sex involved.”

“No sex involved?”

“I mean,” he smirked. “Unless you want?”

“Hm, no, Spencer Reid, I’m not that kind of girl. You’re gonna have to wait until the fifth date for that.”

You made it to the fourth date before having sex again. But to be fair, those four dates were spectacular. Movies, dancing, dinner, some coffee dates sprinkled in. You were happy. And JJ could tell.

“Tell me who he is, [y/n].” JJ ordered, chuckling as she fixed you a cup of tea.

“Who? I told you, there’s no one. There’s no guy.”

“I call bullshit,” she shook her head. “You have been walking around way too happy and way too cocky to not be having sex with someone.”

“J—“

“And not to mention how many times you’ve blown me off to see him.”

“I did not blow you off.”

“Sorry, J,” she mocked your voice. “‘I’ve got an early day tomorrow.’ You? An early day on a Saturday?”

“I wanted to run some errands!”

She turned to you, “Errands? Now I know you’re seeing someone!”

“You’re crazy, J.”

You hated to lie to JJ. But it wasn’t the right time. Besides, at that point, 6 complete months had passed since Henry’s birthday party and you worried the lapse in time would upset her. There would be a time and place to announce the relationship.

4 months later - when you told JJ you were moving - she asked where to, and you still didn’t say ‘oh, Spencer’s place.’ Instead, you just told her it was close to her work.

Another 2 months passed and Henry was turning two. JJ insisted you come over to help her set up decorations the night before. You stepped on a ladder, hanging up Henry’s name in big, floppy letters.

“Hey, [y/n], did you pick up some wall tacks on your way over? I want to start putting up the other decorations.” JJ said.

“Yeah, they’re in my car. My keys are on the couch.”

JJ nodded, grabbed your keys and stepped out of the house to retrieve the items. You finally put up the letter ‘Y’ and stepped down to admire your handy work. You began to clean up the trash off the floor, packing into a large grocery bag and laying it to the side. You heard the door close, signaling JJ’s return.

“Hey, J,” you said, rummaging through the bag of decor. “Did you find the wall tacks? My car’s a little junky. And if you think that’s bad, you should see my room.” You laughed.

When you didn’t get a response after a few seconds, you turned around to look at JJ. She was standing here, holding a small item in her hand. Her face had lost its color and her breathing was still. She couldn’t - wouldn’t - look you in the eye.

“Why...” she started. “Is Spencer’s badge in your car?”

[sleephyjhs]

Him As Your Boyfriend (Seokjin Headcanon)

pairing: boyfriend!seokjin x reader

genre: romance, fluff

note: help me spread the seokjin boyfriend agenda, this man is the only boyfriend ever

note 2: jimin is the only member left and i’d love to do one for him :( feel free to send in the request for him!

m.list | requested

EVERYDAY LIFE

you won’t disagree with me when i say

this man is the perfect boyfriend/husband material

he’s full of love

practically overflowing

incredibly gentle and caring

but will also do his best to win any argument and prove you wrong with humour

you know like the jokey arguments he usually has with jk?

yeah those

i can easily imagine him debating with you for what crisp flavour to get that week

or where to eat on vacation

sometimes he’d give in to you

but more times than not he’d stand his ground

buy you an RJ to make up for it :(((

as much as seokjin would tease you with silly arguments

he’d never fail to look after you

whenever you’d try and do something around the house

he would come up behind you

hug you

and just waddle behind you as you tried to free yourself from his grip

think of him as being a human bubblewrap :((

now

what kind of boyfriend headcanon would this be

if i didn’t mention all the meals he’d make for you

when you started to live together, the kitchen would absolutely be the main social room for you guys

having an island to sit around and cook at was very important to you both

and you’d do your best to help him

but just out of courtesy

seokjin would either give you the easy tasks and take on the harder ones himself

or return everything you’d do for him by offering to cook on his own

either way, you’d always look forward to coming home to the meals he’d make for you

i imagine that jin would be so focused on making sure you were happy

that sometimes he’d forget to take some time for himself

so whenever he’d have a free weekend

you’d book some places in a fishing boat and participate in his interests like he did yours

i can’t even begin to imagine how much fun he’d have teaching you how to fish

and how proud he’d be whenever you caught something

no matter how big or small

even better when you bring it home and find a way to incorporate it into a meal

his camera roll just being photos of you

holding all your catches with the biggest grin

and he just smiles at them when he misses you nooo :((

HIS GESTURES

okay okay

the best date with seokjin

and you cannot argue with me on this

theme park

he seems to really enjoy them

i remember when they went to america he spent his time at six flags

and said he prefers amusement parks over zoos

so

because of how extra this man can be

i can very much imagine his gift for an anniversary being one big ol disney date

taking the same instagram photos by the castle as everyone else

but mugshots of each other in each different land and area

and trying all of the different street foods

as well as the higher end restaurants

and just having fun yknow?

i highly doubt there’s ever a dull moment but you get my drift

if not a theme park then

this is gonna sound strange but stay with me

a european market

yeah i know that’s not very romantic from the outset

but taking time with jin

to just stroll around this city plaza

that’s packed full with colourful stalls

clouds of steam coming off all different cuisines

boxes of old, forgotten vinyls

tiers of the brightest, most fragrent of flowers

i’m not sure whether you’d both be looking intently at what was on display

or if he’d just stand back, holding paper bags full of goodies you’d bought

just admiring how delicate you looked

browsing over the handmade jewellery

or inspecting the bunches of colour coordinated flower bouquets

HIS ATTITUDES

seokjin is one of our introverted members

and is known for his manners and politeness

i think if a situation arose

where you found yourself in a confrontation

his approach might be more to talk you down

instead of directly diffusing the situation

“it’s not worth it” kinda

however

if it ever came to you being harassed

by the press/a stranger/creeps

that’s when he steps in

i don’t think he’d ever resort to intense confrontation

and if he did it would take a lot to get him there

jin is one of those quiet but angry people

his voice would just go ice cold

i’d hate to be on the other end of that stare omg

but like i said

this man’s manners are on the next level

i’m sure i’ve seen somewhere that in korea it’s one of the main things he’s praised for

and no shit bro

holding doors and offering a hand out of cars is the bare minimum

say if you were wearing a short skirt or dress

he’d insist on making you wait until he could cover you with his blazer or a scarf or something

at parties or large gatherings, he’d always make sure you were having fun

because as soon as you arent

he isnt

^ this is EXACTLY the kind of seokjin love we like to see here!

[oh-my-may]

Tsukishima, Sakusa and Osamu having a childhood crush on older! reader

requested: If you're not bussy ☺️ please write Headcanon for, Tsukishima, sakusa, and Osamu who has a Crush on childhood friend Older!s/o (like 5 years apart) ☺️🥺 They propose the her once when they were little and she replay "I'll marry you, if you grow taller then me"  It just so cute in my head.. ☺️😊 How are they will reapproach them years later when they surpassing their s/o height 🥰 Love your work btw 💕💕 

This?? Is such a cute idea ckdksks MY HEART <<<<333 I hope I did it justice :D

Also Osamu’s one is waaayy longer than the other two I’m sorry I got lost halfway through :D

warnings: underage(??) drinking in Osamus part, though it’s not underage in my country lol

Tsukishima Kei:

As children you guys were inseperable, your houses literally being on the other side of the street. The age difference between you never mattered when you guys were playing around.

You were as old as his brother and therefore you often came over to meet with hum, but Tsukki would always end up joining, especially after his brother started playing volleyball, you would always join in with Tsukishima.

Everything was great for a while, you would come over practically every day or they would visit you and then you would spend the rest of the day chilling and playing, until you and Akiteru got into Middle School and puberty hit you. Due to your age you were always a bit taller than Kei, but you grew even more.

Kei always had a crush on you, you being the only girl he only ever hung out with. You always talked to him about Dinosaurs or volleyball or music and he thought - since you shared most of his interests - why not propose? It made sense to 8 year old Kei. “Y/N... Would you marry me?”

You started to laugh and poor Kei got very confused. He was being serious about this. You saw his kinda shattered expression and froze, looking at him with a grin. You pet his head and said: “If you ever grow taller than me, then yes.”

And so the years passed, and gradually you spent less time with the Tsukishimas. You found a bunch of new friends in school that you regularly hung out with, and even though you still saw Akiteru in school and talked to him, walked home with him... You barely ever saw Kei. He seemed to grow a little more distant, he didn’t come to family gatherings anymore and rather just hung around in his room, listening to music. But frankly, you actually didn’t notice.

So eventually you graduate High School and live your life, though sometimes you still meet up with Akiteru to chat. And one day, he tells you about his younger brother. “Kei joined the volleyball club I was part of, remember? Little giant and all? Yeah, of course you do. And guess what - they actually made it to nationals! The first time since then!”

You are very surprised to hear this, though you’re glad and happy for Kei. What Akiteru suggests next though comes as a surprise to you. “I have plans for watching them as least once in Tokyo, wanna join?” And even though you haven’t seen Kei or spoken to him in quite some time, you say yes. And that’s how you end up in the Tokyo gym, swarmed by tall teenage boys and hundreds of guests. Akiteru drags you along with him through the crowd of people, determined to greet his younger brother before the game. And honestly? You feel a little excited to see Kei again, to see how he’s grown since his childhood.

You finally find the boys standing in front of a huge door that clearly leads to the inside of the gym. At first you don’t even notice, but when Akiteru calls his name a very tall, blonde boy turns around, looking startled. You’re a bit shocked to look into the face of the now 16 year old boy. He’s clearly grown since then.

Kei looks at his brother for a minute before his glance wanders over to the person he’s brought along - you. Suddenly his eyes widen a bit and his heart stops for a minute. He swears his entire life was flashing in front of his eyes - well, at least the part of his life he shared with you. All the moments you guys played as kids, runned around the backyard, talked, laughed... And now you were here? So many years after this?

“Y/N what are... what are you doing here?” The words tumble out of his mouth uncontrollably and theres a slight tint of pink appearing on his cheeks. “Ya, what’s that? Is Tsukishima flustered?” One of his team members come up beside him. He has a shaved head and tries to casually rest his elbow on Kei’s shoulder, but he fails. You notice how tall he has gotten - clearly taller than you. You have to laugh but also feel you skin heat up when you remember his question and your promise from 8 years ago.

“Why are you laughing now?” Kei seems a little helpless and confused, just like back then. It almost makes you laugh even harder. Does he even remember it? You softly place your hand on his arm, looking up into his face. His eyebrows are raised, they surpassed the lines of his glasses. “Kei...” you begin, but when you see how curious his brother and his members look at you, you lower your voice. “Remember when we were children... One day you asked me a very peculiar question and I answered with a promise.”

His head shoots up immediately and you see blood flushing his cheeks and ears in a violent red. His expression seems more than shocked and for a second he even chokes on his own breath. You grin, leaving him like that. “Rock the game, yeah? I don’t want to have travelled this far just to see you fail in the first round.” Kei is still frozen in the spot, though in the game hsi brother tells you how he seems even more focused and determined than before.

You may have teased Kei right there, but from then on you began hanging out with the Tsukishimas more, visiting them as often as you could when your career didn’t take over your life. And maybe, eventually, Kei asks you out after his graduation and this time you take it seriously and don’t make another promise.

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

As children your grew up in the same neighbourhood and your parents would always take you to the same playground.

You noticed the young boy immediately - every now and then between playing in the sand he would go to his mother and she would clean his hands thoroughly with wipes and sanitizer. That got you interested very quickly. So you just walked over and sat down next to him and his mom, watching as they would repeat the same procedure over and over again, until you eventually ask: “Why are you doing this?”

And this little boy just looks up at you and starts explaining how he doesn’t like dirt and why you, too, should clean your hands like this. So you try and after you do, the boy drags you along across the yard saying how other kids don’t like playing with him because of his habits. You’re a bit taken aback by this - even though you’re older, you’re still gonna be friends with this younger boy. He’s like 6 or 7 at that time and from then on you met him on the playground almost every day. And every day, you’d go to his mom to clean your hands properly and then go play with “Omi-chan”, as you called him.

And Sakusa would honestly admire you, treasuring you as his closest friend. Even though he was younger and smaller than you, you accepted him and his habits and you still liked being around him. “Y/N... Will you marry me someday?” he bursts out one day, his big dark eyes looking up at you. And you take a second to look at his cute face - his round eyes, the curly hair, the snub nose, his soft cheeks. You grin and your hand moves from the top of his head to yours. “Maybe when you’ll grow taller than me.”

And so time went on, until you got to Middle School and then High School. You grew closer and when you were older you stopped hanging out at the playground and rather met at your houses, the only safe and clean places he trusts. You even adopt some of his habits, like cleaning your hands etc. You make it a whole ceremony to clean your rooms together before hanging out.

And even after you got into college you’d still find time for him. Calling him every now and then, watching some of his games and meeting up with him whenever you were home. And of course you notice him growing up, too. The way his hair grows a bit longer and hangs into his face, his sharper jawline, the shape of his eyes. And - his height. When he was 15 he finally surpassed your height, but you both had forgotten about your little conversation at this point.

Until your mom hosts a garden party and his family is invited, too. They make you both take a photo together and when Sakusas mom looks at it, she suddenly remembers and hands her son an older camera, a video waiting to be played on the screen. You both exchange a confused look before you press play and you see the two of you as children, thoroughly cleaning your hands, the playground in the background. Sakusa looks up at you and says “Will you marry me some day?” and that’s when Sakusa stops the video, his eyes a little widened and the tips of his ears painted in vibrant red. At first you’re a little confused, as you wanted to see what you responded to his question back then, but when you look at your friend you suddenly realize and giggle.

Sakusa thinks he’s about to sink into the ground because of embarrassement. He never thought about his feelings for you as a crush since he didn’t know better. He always thought all friends act and feel like this and over the years, as he realized he was actually in love with you, he couldn’t picture himself with someone else. You were so considerate, so accepting. Never once in your life did you think of him as weird, you never disrespected him or made fun of him. And after all, you were always the one accompanying him to events and he did the same for you. And when he looked at you now - all grown up, confident, pretty, your curious eyes scanning his face - he thought about how he was never brave enough to admit his feelings for you. Not like this. And certainly not in front of you.

“Y/N... I know this might come across as weird now, because we’ve known each other for so long, and I know you’re and adult now and I barely just graduated High School but... I want to show you that I’m not that little boy from the video anymore.” He gulps when he looks at your face, your eyes still looking at his, a slight smile on your lips.

You sigh and place your hands flatly on his jacket, over his chest. “But Omi-chan... I already now that. Although if that was your way of asking me out on a date, then take this as a yes.”

Miya Osamu:

Your mom worked as freetime volleyball coach/trainer for children and sometimes you would accompany her, wanting to see what she was doing and also seeing a chance in getting to know new friends

So you’re casually in the small gym, watching as all the younger children throw around balls, laughing and chasing each other. You’re distracted, so you don’t see the ball flying straight into your face, causing you to stumble and fall. When you look back up, there’s a boy about 5 or 6 looking into your face, a curious expression on his face rather than a worried one. “Did that hurt?” He looks back up, his face turned to someone you can’t see. “Tsumu, I told you not to punch the ball like that!” What follows is a sequence of words you don’t understand, coming from the other end of the gym. You stand up on your own and follow his gaze. You rub your eyes as you see another boy standing there, looking just like the one next to you. A little irritated you look in between them a few times, before the one next to you dryly says: “That’s my twin brother, Atsumu. I’m Osamu by the way... And I’m sorry about the ball.” He points at your face, that frankly hurt a bit, it felt hot and will probably get red in the next minutes. Osamu turns to his brother again. “It was simply because my brother can’t handle the ball well!”, he shouts and his brother sticks out his tongue for it.

And so it began and you would join your mom more often from then on, watching the twins play volleyball and develop over time. They would always come up to you and ask who did better, who improved more etc... You were older than them after all, they trusted your judgement.

You would grow particularly fond of Osamu, since he was the one who seemed to care more for you, he was nicer to you and always come up to you in between practice sessions. At first he only asked about volleyball, if you play too or why not and so on, but when you came often he’d get more interested in you. And he was barely in Primary School, you were the only girl he knew closer and you were so... mature to him. He developed a cute little childhood crush on you. “Y/N, we should marry.”, he states one day. For a moment you’re a little surprised, but you laugh and squish his cheeks. “Maybe when you grow taller than me, Samu-chan~” you tease him.

And so it would go on for a while, years even. Throughout his Primary School years he’d always come to your moms little practice sessions together with his brother and at least one time a month you would hear the same question. “Will you marry me, Y/N?” and you would always answer the same. “If you ever grow taller than me, yes.” His brother very quickly notice his brothers behaviour and tease him. Sometime later, they were already in Middle School then, it’s Atsumu who approaches you. Of course you don’t notice, since they had the same hair back then. He even styled it like his brother, so there was no difference. Atsumu thought maybe, since he was a bit flirtier, he could settle something for his beloved twin. But he gets caught mid act and Osamu is furious. Let’s say this might or might not be the final reason why they color their hair different colors.

Over the years however, even though Osamus crush on you stays, he doesn’t ask you the question anymore. During puberty he gets way too embarrassed over all his past actions towards you, especially since you were older. You literally had a boyfriend, and yet his 11 year old self still asked. His toe nails were starting to curl just when he thought about it.

He never forgets, though. But even when he does eventually grow taller than you in his first year in High School, he still doesn’t say a thing. Of course he doesn’t, you’re in college at that point and probably already made out with so many guys... His blood was boiling just thinking of it, even though he knew he was being unreasonable and childish.

On the twins 18th birthday, they throw a big party. And of course you’re invited, you’re basically their oldest friend and have followed their “career” since the beginning. Both the twins are stupid drunk in no time and you sit down with Osamu after a wild round of beer pong. He’s completely out of it, his words almost incoherent but they still make sense. You literally heave him onto the couch and sit down next to him, still laughing. For a moment it’s just the two of you, him a lot more drunk than you, the music blaring in the background, lost in your thoughts. Until Osamu speaks up, the alcohol getting the best of him.

“You know how... When we were children... Well no, when I was a child... I’d always ask you stupid questions??” he goes, one index finger raised as he explains. The alcohol in your blood and getting to your brain makes you laugh at it. He still looks at you expectantly though, like he’s waiting for your answer. So you nod. “You always asked me if we would marry one day. Like... A lot. 10 times a year or so.” He nods exaggerated. “Yessss, and you’d always, ALWAYS, say, that you’d do it when... When I get taller than you.” That’s when he pushes himself up from the couch with big effort and looks at you, a dark expression on his face. He stays like that for a while, his face neutral but his eyes determined. Until he literally falls on top of you, the alcohol making him stumble around. You giggle, and Osamu apologizes a hundred times, though he likes the feeling of your arms magically wrapping around him. It’s like a reflex of yours, you couldn’t stop yourself. “You alright?”, you ask quietly. Your faces are barely inches away from each other and he still has this certain look in his eyes, that almost makes you shiver. You always thought of Osamu as a younger brother, but ever since he got into High School and he grew taller and muscular, but also his demeanor maturing, you sometimes caught your mind wandering off... Like now. He makes a vague face before he just leans in and presses his lips to yours, capturing them in a really sloppy drunk kiss. But it’s fine, you both enjoy it. When he leans back, a smug smile traces lips. “Now I’m alright. More than that, even.”

You drunkenly make out for quite some time that night, Atsumu filming some of that in the same state as you, just so he can show his brother what he accomplished. Eventually you both pass out on the couch and when you wake up it’s a little awkward at first, until you nudge him and say that you’ll give him a chance, now that he was an adult and taller than you.

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Six

(I know it's Henry and not Sy in the photo, but it just fit too well with this chapter.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Six starts after the cut. (Chapter Five can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the last chapter or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

I will post a master list soon and put the link in the comments to make it easier to navigate.

Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Smut, Christmas themes, mentions of therapy, embarrassing moments.

Ada didn't mind being woken up with soft fluttering kisses on her neck. She definitely didn't mind starting the day with the tantalizing rub of his beard on her sensitive skin and the hard press of his torso against her back, their legs entwined and his morning erection nuzzled against her butt.

What she did mind, however, was when any of this happened at the butt crack of dawn. Ada opened her eyes just enough to read 6:50am on the alarm clock.

"Sy," she groaned, stopping his wandering hands with hers, trying to trap them beneath her breasts. "Hold that thought for later, okay?"

She heard him chuckle behind her, his chest vibrating against her body as he freed his hands from her weak grip. "Later is for putting up the Christmas tree and the decorations," he teased, his right hand now drawing circles low on her stomach.

Ada groaned again, wanting to fight his tempting touch but unwilling to move away from his body heat. "I'll get up at 7:30." Those were the last words out of her mouth before she had drifted off again.

When she woke up once more, forty minutes later with the blast of her alarm clock, her back was cold and the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, filling her nostrils. Damn Syverson and his military sleep schedule! She had taken all her days off to spend them with him only to wake up even earlier than when she was working.

With barely open eyes, Ada threw on his shirt that hung on the chair and slowly made her way downstairs, following the scent of pancakes. She found Sy in front of the stove, just finishing up the last one before setting it on the huge pile of pancakes that looked fluffier than clouds. Ada had quickly learnt that while Sy was a disaster when it came to the art of cooking, he was the master of pancakes and barbecue.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her and then smirked when he noticed her attire.

"Morning captain," she mumbled, walking up to him before patiently waiting until he leant down so that they could share a kiss. It always made him laugh when she did that: the adorable pout on her face when he didn't bend down for a kiss fast enough was worth waiting the extra second every time.

They ate in relative silence, mostly because Ada definitely wasn't a morning person, but the fact that Sy had a habit of stuffing his mouth full of food also played a role. When she was done eating, Ada pushed her plate and glass away, and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs on the chair. She eyed her husband intently, waiting for him to finish eating with a grin on her lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that, darlin'?" Sy asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously before taking the last sip of his morning coffee.

Ada blushed, suddenly looking bashful. "Well… I was hoping we could go back upstairs and continue what you started earlier," she admitted in a tiny voice.

Sy laughed, a booming sound that filled the entire room before a shit-eating grin spread on his lips. "Tough luck, darlin'." He got up from his chair, standing in front of her across the narrow table. "Should have thought about that before falling asleep on me earlier."

Ada's mouth fell open. The cheek on this man! And what made it worse, was his huge smile that made him look like a very amused bear, with his hairy, tempting chest. He was toying with her. "Are you really saying no to sex?" She asked, cocking her brow. Sy wasn't really the type to turn down-

"Yes, no sex." He stated, suddenly looking very serious. "We have to head to the store to buy decorations, then put up the tree and hang the lights outside." Ada tried her best not to laugh. He sounded as if he were explaining a major, life or death, mission to her – not Christmas preparations. "You’re dismissed but I expect you back here in fifteen minutes, dressed and ready to go." With that, he turned around and started gathering the plates and silverware to put them in the dishwasher.

"Yes, sir."

Ada knew better than to talk back. First, when he had something in mind, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it. Second, she hoped that the sooner they were done with this, the sooner she could get laid. Third, he had used his Captain voice that somehow always managed to make an obedient little soldier out of her.

Though, rationally, she also didn't want to make it any more difficult for him. He had confessed to her a few nights ago why he'd felt so uneasy when they had gone grocery shopping: the gondolas were too tall which led to lots of blind spots and the amount of people meant he couldn't rely on his hearing sense to detect potential danger. 'It just screams ambush,' he told her.

Ada couldn't quite imagine what he must have experienced that a supermarket or a store would translate into danger, but it was not her place to question him. Instead, she had kissed his forehead in bed and offered to start doing their shopping on her own. Sy had promptly refused, suggesting they simply go early in the mornings, when there were less people and less distracting noises.

Now at Target, she was immensely glad she had gotten out of bed, the sight alone was worth it. It wasn't everyday you'd see Sy pick up a bunch of Christmas tree baubles and inspect each one of them carefully before determining which ones were worthy enough to make it to their living room. Ada sneaked a picture for safekeeping and then decided to send it to his mom as well. Family dinner was fast-approaching, and she'd seize all the cookie points she could get.

"Darlin'," Sy called, catching her attention. He was holding up an inflatable Santa who, instead of carrying gifts, dragged a bag full of liquor bottles and sported a drunk grin on his face. It was tacky beyond words. "Do 'you think we should get this, or will it just upset the neighborhood kids?"

Ada grimaced but tried to disguise it with a smile. She’d die before letting that thing on their lawn. “I think a neighborhood dog would tear it to bits within a second," she lied, trying to appear apologetic.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

°°°

The lights were up. It was a much quicker process with Sy's help. It was also the occasion for Ada to just sit back and relax because he was adamant, she shouldn’t step on a ladder to help. Instead, she had a glass of bourbon waiting for him for when he finished. It was 5pm somewhere after all.

"You said we had a tree!" Sy's deep voice reached her from the basement.

Ada threw her head back, sighing, before hurrying downstairs after him. "Yes, it's in that box over there," she pointed at a white cardboard box behind a couple of spare tires.

"Woman, it's tiny!" Sy complained, picking up the box and setting it down between them. It was about as tall as her. It was not that small.

"It's the one I've used every year since I moved in. It's pretty enough and doesn't take up too much space,” she defended.

In front of her, Sy exhaled loudly through his nostrils before rubbing his beard. She knew that move. It's what he did to remind himself she was not a soldier under his command, but his wife, and that he better measure his words unless he wanted to sleep on the sofa.

"Look, darlin'," he said calmly, enclosing her small hands in his much bigger ones. "This is my first Christmas home with my wife. I refuse to put up a minuscule, fake sapling in my home and call it a Christmas tree."

Ada was slightly taken aback. She didn’t know Christmas was this important to him. Though it was true he had been overseas on Christmas the past two years, so she could understand where he was coming from with wanting this Christmas to matter. Besides, it was endearing when he put it like that.

With a nibble on her lip, Ada gave in. "Okay. They're selling trees in that parking lot by the pharmacy."

Sy slowly shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. "No. We're going to get our own pine tree from the woods."

You gotta be kidding me, she groaned internally.  

°°°

Ada had no idea where they were. It hadn’t been that long of a ride, but there were no more houses or streets to be seen around them, just endless fields and a forest. It was only when Sy took a right turn, that she started spotting cars and what looked to be a very colorful barn which had been converted into a cozy boutique.

“Where are we?” She asked, staring out of the window as Sy looked for a place to park his truck.

“The Dallagher’s ranch,” he replied. “They do a corn maze and a pumpkin patch in the Fall, and in the Winter, you can pick up your own Christmas tree. My dad used to take Claire and I here every year.”

Oh… This was a family tradition. No wonder Sy made such a big deal about having a real tree for Christmas.

Once out of the car, they walked hand in hand through the dirt road until they reached the makeshift counter made of hay where you could get a handcart before heading out into the man-made pine forest and select a Christmas tree. Most people she saw, however, were already returning the handcarts and happily carrying their trees to their parked cars.

The old man by the cash register seemed to recognize Sy instantly, smiling warmly as he greeted him with a one-armed hug. Ada realized it was the ranch’s owner. “I haven’t seen you in years, Jack!” The old man exclaimed with a laugh before turning to Ada. “And who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Ada, my wife,” Sy said, introducing them. He watched with amusement as Ada stumbled as the old man hugged her without a warning, taking her by surprise.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ada,” the man nodded once he had retreated, and then turned back to Sy. “Should I be offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” He teased.

Sy was already wrapping his arm around her shoulders, chuckling. “To be honest, Dallagher, there were no guests at the wedding,” he replied, amused at the way the old man frowned in a confused manner at that piece of information. “Actually, we came here to get a tree.”

“Of course!” Dallagher immediately turned and ordered the young boy in overalls to fetch them a handcart. “What size did you have in mind?”

“Something around seven feet,” Sy said, looking pensive as Ada looked up at him suspiciously, trying to figure out how much seven feet converted to in the metric system. Once she’d done the math, she pulled at Sy’s flannel sleeve to protest – that was way too big, it’d take up the whole living room – but the Dallagher’s grandson was already handing them the cart and leading them to the entrance.

“Trees that big are at the very back of the forest, you’ll have to walk a little.”

This turned out to be quite an understatement. Ada felt like they had been walking for literal years. While they had still come across other people at the beginning, mostly families, they were on their own now – that is if you didn’t count the many squirrels that kept appearing out of nowhere.

She stopped, grabbing the back of Sy’s red tartan shirt so he would be forced to pause as well. “Can’t we just take one of these?” Ads suggested, gesturing at the countless trees all around them. They were all pretty enough and considerably taller than her.

Sy huffed, biting his lip in amusement as he looked at her dispirited face. He’d told her she should probably get changed and wear more comfortable shoes before they left home, but she had insisted she wasn’t going to change clothes just to get a goddamn tree. “These are only around six feet, darlin’. And,” he paused, eyeing the trees more closely, “they’re not Nordmann firs. I want a Nordmann.”

Ada sighed defeatedly, but nodded all the same, starting to walk again when Sy took pity on her. “Do you want to sit on the handcart?”

The change on his wife’s face was instant, the frown lifting into a smile as she climbed on the cart and sat down in the middle, evening out her weight for him. “Is that better, darlin?” He asked teasingly.

She turned her head back just to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes.

By the time they reached an area with Nordmann trees that Sy considered nice and big enough, her butt was sore from the conjunction of the hard, wooden surface and the uneven ground. She wasn’t even sure she had made the better call or whether it would have been better to suffer in her new ankle boots instead.

“Which one is better?” Sy asked, pointing at two pine trees that looked virtually identical to her.

Ada shrugged, almost saying that he should choose before realizing how much time that would take. The man wasn’t picky about food, bedlinen or even the pillow he slept with, but apparently, he had to make sure he brought home the most perfect tree. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. “The left one,” she said finally.

“Which one? Your left or my left?”

Breathing in deeply, she decided to just point at the tree she was talking about. Sy nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the saw he had brought with him and started to work on the tree. While she had been most eager to get this whole thing over with, it became an entirely different story now as she dreamily stared at her husband getting to work.

With most of his back facing her and one knee on the forest’s soft ground as he started sawing off the Nordmann fin, Sy looked absolutely delicious. The red flannel shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and the jeans made him perfect sight with anyone with a lumberjack fantasy. Ada had never considered herself as having such a kink. A uniformed soldier, or even better, a captain? Hell yes. A strong, rugged husband capable of her breaking her in half? Also a big yes. A lumberjack? The thought had never crossed her mind in the past but there was no point in denying it now as she sat back on the wooden cart, watching Sy carefully saw down the giant tree.

She was wet. Horny. Aroused. You name it. It also didn’t help that they hadn’t had sex that day. Yet.

"Sy," she whined, just loud enough to get his attention, while swinging her legs in the air like a child.

"I'm almost done, darlin'," Sy responded, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "I want a nice, clean cut."

Yeah, and she want a nice, dirty fuck. Pouting, she watched him for a couple more seconds as he knelt in front of the base of the tree, deciding from which side he should bring the saw to the trunk next in order to make it even.

That was when Ada decided she was tired of waiting. Shuffling quietly, she slipped off her wet panties from under her dress and rolled them into a small ball before throwing it at her husband. It hit his left shoulder and rolled down his chest. Grinning wickedly, she leaned back on her shoulders and enjoyed the view, the muscles on his back shifting as he picked up the garment off the ground. If this didn't get her laid, nothing else would.

"Ada Metz Syverson," Sy groaned out her full name slowly, his voice even deeper than usual. He got back up on his feet and turned to face her, looking stern.

Suddenly she didn't feel so brave anymore, not when he had crossed the distance to her in two determined strides and went to tower over her small, sitting frame. His jaw was set, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual. Ada moved her eyes down his body, her eyes pausing at the defined pectorals on his chest before sliding lower. He was definitely hard, the bulge on his jeans prominent.

"Just remember you asked for this."

She wanted to ask what this was supposed to be, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Legs,” he ordered, patting his shoulder as he came to stand just inches away from her. Almost unconsciously, she obeyed his order, her ankles coming to rest on the front of his shoulders, her feet framing his neck. “That’s a good girl,” he praised her with a quick kiss to her right calf before his large hands moved to the front of his jeans, just over the protruding tent and began undoing the belt and snap.

From this angle, Sy’s cock looked even bigger, the shiny glans flushed a deep pink. Ada swallowed tightly, her legs already shaking with anticipation and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Pumping his shaft with his right hand, Sy brought his left one to her core, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over clit once or twice before sliding it between her folds. She was a dripping mess. Sy smirked when she keened eagerly at his touch, enjoying his ministrations until he pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking off her slick. “It’s good you’re so wet already because I just can’t wait to take you, darlin’.”

He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. The next thing he did, was grabbing hold of his throbbing, hard cock and guiding himself into her. Ada moaned loudly at the intrusion, drowning out Sy’s own growl as her walls clenched around his cock, trying to get used to the abruptness and depth of the penetration.

“Fuck, Sy!” She cried out, not even sure what it was she wanted. “Don’t stop,” was all she could muster as he ploughed into her like there was no tomorrow, hitting her pleasure all at once.

He knew they were being too loud. They might be alone, but they were still out in the open air, and yet he just couldn’t find it in himself to care – not when she felt this good around his cock and her noises only heightened his fervor. If someone happened to stumble upon them, then they’d simply be in for a premium show,

It wasn’t long until her legs started shaking almost uncontrollably up in the air, prompting him to remove one hand from his steely grip on her hip and wrap his arms around her legs to keep them steady as he continued with jackhammer thrusts. “Are you going to cum for me, darlin’?” Sy panted, groaning out the question between clenched teeth even though he already knew the answer.

Ada didn’t manage to reply, the first waves of her orgasm already coursing through her when she moaned his name. Her hips canted up, her body tensed up like a bolt, and Sy knew he was done for right then. Her warm walls squeezed him impossibly tight inside of her, milking the cum right out of his cock while he fought to keep his balance as pleasure overtook him.

They came down from their heights slowly, chests heaving. Sy lazily removed her legs from his shoulders, massaging the strained muscles on her inner thighs before he set her legs down. This woman would be the end of him. “That was…” he panted, bending forward over her body to kiss her forehead, unable to find a proper adjective to describe what had just happened.

“Yeah,” Ada breathed out, nodding slowly.

Sy ended up having to carry her and the tree on the cart back to his truck because there was no way she was able to walk straight after that.

°°°

They finished decorating the giant tree. Ada had to admit it looked pretty although the red and gold decorations clashed with the color theme of their living room. She handed Sy the newly purchased baubles one by one – he was the only one capable of reaching the top.

On their way back home, she had somehow managed to convince Sy to stop at the therapist’s office – the one she had found had the highest ratings on Google. They had booked the first available appointment, which was just after the New Year and Sy had made it very clear to their secretary it was just a ‘testing appointment’ and that there was no need to set aside time slots for follow-up sessions yet because there was no guarantee he’d be back. His reluctance was palpable, but Ada was glad he was giving it a try at least. And if he didn’t like, then they’d figure out something else.

In the background, their wedding video kept playing and she wondered for how much longer she'd have to hear the sound of camera flashes as the chapel assistant took way too many photos of them in the most cliché poses you could imagine. Sy has insisted they put on their wedding video since they’d never gotten around to watch it and it fit the season, according to him. Slowly, the annoying sounds began fading away and Ada sighed with relief. Watching herself on TV sparked too much embarrassment in her.

"Hand me the big one with Rudolph, will you, darlin'," Sy asked from behind her, still meticulously decorating the tree.

Ada nodded, searching for the bauble he had in mind. It was still in the shopping bag, she remembered, lifting it off the floor to dig inside it.

Ada froze as a female chuckle was heard, unconsciously gripping the glass ornament too tightly in her hand. "Not that fast, Captain."

Behind her, Sy frowned. "What did you say?"

"Tonight, I'm in charge," she heard her own voice say - no, it was more like a purr.

"Shit!" Ada cursed loudly, letting the bauble fall back inside the bag and she hurried to the TV, her worst fear confirmed.

Sy followed her quickly, stopping just behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Is that from our wedding night?" He asked slowly, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched his younger self being tied up to the bedposts by his wife.

"Yes," Ada cringed, her face a painful grimace. "I didn't even remember the sex tape."

"Me neither," Sy swallowed loudly, admittedly rapidly becoming aroused at the sight of his Ada doing a striptease on camera. She wore that red ensemble with the garter belt.

"I think the assistant never really ended the video after our wedding, only paused it and we later continued filming in the hotel instead of starting a new video," Ada commented, now understanding what had happened. How they’d even came up with the idea of filming a sex tape on their wedding night, she didn't know. Alcohol had probably played a part in it.

Sy was still staring in awe at the TV, enthralled by the sight of his wife deviously edging him, her hips swaying slowly, when her words slowly registered in his head. "Didn't we send copies of the video to our families?" He stammered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant.

Silence fell between them as they both realized they had been dumb enough to send copies before watching it themselves. "Fuck!" Ada barked, seizing the remote to pause the video. "We sent that to my parents, your parents, your sister...," she listed, her face losing all color.

Suddenly, the sound of Sy's deep laughter filled her ears. She turned to him, aghast. How could he find this funny? This was peak cringe! She’d be one needing therapy after this!

"You know, darlin', watching this video was the first time my parents ever saw their daughter-in-law, before even meeting you in person." Sy explained, shaking his head with amusement.

Ada was mortified. No wonder Mr. Syverson had seemed on the verge of laughter the first time they'd met and Helen had given her the side eye. The woman had a USB stick in her home with an hour-long video of Ada fucking her son. "You know, Sy, this wedding video is also the first thing my parents saw of you." He stopped laughing abruptly, his face red, all amusement gone.

They both sat down on the couch next to each other, slowly coming to terms with the fact that pretty much their whole families had seen this, and never said anything, probably keeping it as an inside joke.

Sy broke the silence, his large hand reaching to rub her naked thigh. "You know, I don't think we should be embarrassed," he said, prompting her to stare back up at him, eyebrow raised dubiously. "The way you tied up my arms really enhanced my biceps and you looked adorably hot like a vicious kitten from hell."

°°°

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​ @rn7rocks​ 

[encouleurdevie]

OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT. TIMOTHEE CHALAMET AT THE GOLDEN GLOBES. THE RINGS THAT HE WEARS GIVE ME A STROKE. YOU SHOULD WRITE SOMETHING INCORPORATING THOSE RINGS CAUSE... GODDAMN 🥵

Rings

a/n: …. sorry for disappearing for a while. send me ideas, i read them all, and i literally have google docs opened for all of them it’s just a matter of making myself be productive lol i love you. thank you for reading it means more than you’ll ever know

word count: 3100

“Be there in 5 minutes.” you typed as the taxi sped down the road towards a hotel that was much too fancy for your taste. But it was where Timothee was staying and you couldn’t say no to an invitation to come and take pictures of him before his big night. He was a nominee at the Golden Globes this year, and according to his previous texts, his stylists had gone all out for the occasion. One mirror selfie prompted you to pack your camera bag and hail a taxi to where he was staying. You were already drooling over how stunning his head-to-toe black outfit would look on your newest camera, which only shot in black and white.

As a photographer, you had a knack for capturing people at their best. It didn’t matter how confident they were or how camera shy they claimed to be, you had a way of making your subjects comfortable and carefree. People often told you that your photos were some of the most unique and beautiful they’d seen, which is how you had gotten to the point of photographing the enigmatic but easily recognizable faces of Hollywood. And it was going well, for the most part. Celebrities loved the attention they received after you released their photos. They loved feeling so special because of your attention to detail and poise behind the camera, and you loved the fact that they felt beautiful because of your photos. However, many of them would simply pay you for your time and then be on their way, never to speak to you again unless someone from their team of people reached out to you for another shoot. 

Timothee, however, was not one of these people. Months earlier, he had personally reached out to you online, expressing how much he liked your photos and how he’d love to do a shoot sometime. Nothing prepared you for the whirlwind of events that were to follow.

The first time you had taken his picture, you were blown away by how effortlessly attractive he was as he posed for you. The pictures turned out beautifully, but nothing could capture his essence as clearly as you could see it in person, so animated and electrifying. It would be a lie to say you weren’t smitten from the first click of your camera. As it turned out, Timothee was drawn to your passion for photography, your eclectic style, and the way your eyes looked when you stared at him carefully and told him how to pose. The second or third time you had taken his picture, a late night shoot on some of the hidden streets in LA, you had barely gotten ten pictures before he couldn’t stand it anymore and kissed you hard in an alleyway. You remembered waking up next to him, messy haired and in your underwear, the next morning. 

The photoshoots and secret rendezvous became routine, and before long you became a somewhat permanent member of his team, showing up to events and interviews and snapping photos. On the surface, you were merely his photographer, a background character in the spotlight of his life, but behind the dressing room door, he would be carefully undressing you and kissing you with a passion you didn’t know was possible. A secret affair from the public, and an erotic motivation for your art. 

As the taxi cab turned corners, you reminisced on the stolen kisses and the heat of his body moving against yours. When the hotel, in all of its high-end California glory, came into view, you shook your head in an attempt to get your mind back on the present. You thanked the cab driver and stepped out into the heat of Beverly Hills, walking quickly into the hotel lobby. 

Timothee had instructed you where to go once you were inside, so you made your way down the winding hallways until you found his room number. You knocked on the door twice, and waited. Within seconds, the door was yanked open and you were standing in front of the man who had come to be your muse. Timothee looked even better every time you saw him, and this time was no exception. The outfit looked even better in person than it had on your phone. The pristine black fabric of his shirt and pants fit his body snugly, and the small sequins that dotted his Louis Vuitton harness glinted in the light.

“Well hello, stranger,” he smiled.

“Hello, Mr. Fashion Man,” you replied, taking in the bold yet totally tasteful outfit.

He laughed his beautiful laugh and motioned for you to come into the posh hotel room which was decorated with various art deco furniture and paintings. Instead of having you set up in the indoor space, he walked across the room and out into an enclosed outdoor patio area.

“I was thinking this would be a cool spot,” he stated and looked at you for approval. You glanced around at the tall plants that bordered the small yard and admired the varying green hues of the space.

“This will be perfect,” you exclaimed, “but we need one thing.”

You dashed back into the room, and grabbed a tall metal chair that had caught your eye on the way in. You set it down in the grass, and made sure it was perfectly framed by leaves.

Timothee watched you closely, and smirked. “Always so full of ideas, aren’t you?”

You grinned at him and started unloading your camera bag onto a table just outside of the sliding glass door. You felt his eyes on you even after you looked away, making your heart beat ever so slightly faster.

“The newest addition to my collection,” you said proudly, reaching in your bag and then holding up your new camera. 

“Is that a film camera?” he stepped closer to you to see it better. And that was when you noticed them. As he reached up to try holding the camera, you noticed the small collection of rings positioned on his fingers. One on his pointer, one on his middle finger. You’d never seen him wear jewelry before and were taken aback by how good the rings looked on him. A tiny detail against the rest of his outfit, but a detail that for some reason made you lose all focus. As you gazed at his fingers, you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Yes. Um, yeah. I found it at an antique store last week and fixed it up.”

His eyes flicked up to you, obviously noticing the way you hesitated, and saw your eyes locked on his fingers as he held your camera. 

You brushed it off. “Anyway, I thought it would be cool to try it out. I forgot how much I love film.”

“Yeah. Okay, let’s do it.” He handed you the camera, and you noticed the way he made sure to brush his fingers against yours. This was going to be a long shoot if your mind kept wandering to other places, like it was starting to in that moment.

Timothee perched himself gently on the chair as you finished setting up the camera. When everything was ready to go, you brought the camera to your face, ready to start snapping away. The looks he was giving you could have melted iron. He knew exactly what he was doing too. As his eyes burned through the camera and he moved between poses, he began absently twisting the rings around his fingers. He moved them around, up and down his fingers, and spinning them around. 

The slight movement, paired with the fire in his eyes was making you squeeze your legs together. The rings were sexy, distracting, and clearly causing a lot of feelings to stir within you. His fingers were the only thing on your mind. You were always surprised at how he didn’t even have to say a single world. He just had to lock his big green eyes on yours and you were putty in his hands.

You pulled the camera away from your face, accidentally revealing your flushed cheeks.

“I just… um. I need to check something with the… uh… the shutter speed.” you said and it came out sounding more like a strangled whisper.

Timothee stood up instantly, and within seconds he was standing right in front of you. 

“No you don’t.” he cooed. You felt his presence so close to yours, and once again your eyes were glued to the rings on his fingers. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re aching aren’t you?” 

You looked up at him, and that was the end of it. He took the camera from your shaky hands and bent down until his lips were pressed roughly on yours. If this was what getting busted for having dirty thoughts about Timothee meant, you would gladly accept the consequences. 

He started nudging you backwards into the hotel room, one hand on the small of your back the other reaching out to set the camera back in your bag. Obviously, you wouldn’t be needing that for a while. You reached up, still moving your lips messily against his, and clasped your hands behind his head, gently touching the curls that graced the back of his neck.

Timothee pulled away for a second, letting you both catch your breath. His demeanor had gone from the smiley boy who greeted you at the door, to a worked up and dominating version of himself. You could sense how worked up he was too, and how much he craved your body. Every time something like this happened between the two of you, it was like the first time. There was so much sexual tension between you and the second someone initiated anything it was like an explosion of repressed feelings. And it felt so good.

As soon as Timothee led you across the threshold of the room, he fell back onto a chair that had been pulled away from expensive-looking desk. He pulled you right on top of him so that your chests were right up against each other. You straddled his legs, causing your flowy skirt to bunch up around your thighs. Timothee’s hands followed the fabric, gently grazing the skin on your legs until he had a firm grasp on your hips underneath your skirt. As he traced his fingers along the waistband of your panties, you felt the rings against you, causing your breath to hitch. 

“I saw you looking at them, baby.” he whispered against your ear. “Thought you might like them.”

“Fuck.” you groaned against his neck. “They look so good…”

You pushed yourself closer to him, grinding your hips onto his and feeling the outline of his hardening cock beneath you. In a swift movement, he pulled one hand away from your waist and brought it back down on your ass quickly. The warmth of his hand coupled with the cool metal of the rings made you squeal in anticipation. His hands guided your body as you continued to rub your hips against his lower half.

“Stand up.” he directed, his voice coming out cool and confidently arousing. You climbed off his lap, painstakingly dragging your body away from his, despite only wanting to be touching him everywhere. You stood up on shaky legs between his knees as he looked up at you from where he continued to sit. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, his stare filled with desire. Calmly, and still gauging your reaction, he gathered the material of your skirt in his fists and tugged downward. The light fabric fell from your body smoothly and pooled around your ankles, leaving you in your blouse and lacy underwear in front of him. His eyes hungrily raked across your body.

You really couldn’t stand not touching him for a second longer, so you bent down and caught his lips in yours. His hands cupped your jaw as you licked into his mouth, and you dropped your hands to the top of his pants. You popped the first button open and fumbled around until your fingers worked the zipper down. He pushed up against you, still kissing you hard, just enough so that he could push his black pants down to his knees. 

“Now come back here.” he mumbled against your lips. You didn’t need to be told twice. You let your body fall back open, spreading your legs so that you were straddling him again, this time only underwear between your lower halves. Your draped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

Timothee snaked one hand up the back of your blouse, sending a shiver up your spine, and began inching the other hand down the front of your panties. 

“I know what you want, princess.” he whispered. “I know you’ve been thinking about my fingers since you walked in the goddamn door.”

He ran a finger teasingly across your slit, and his face broke into a cocky grin as soon as he realized how wet you were for him. His eyes were locked on yours with such intensity you felt like if you broke the stare you might burst into flames. He began rubbing his fingers in slow circles around your clit, eliciting a string of moans to come tumbling from your lips, which you were biting down on to try and stifle the noise.

But your mouth quickly fell open as he slowly, slowly pushed a finger into you. His face remained calm but he knew exactly what he was doing to you, knew exactly the way he made you feel. You whimpered as you felt his ring make contact with your entrance. 

“That feel good baby?”

You didn’t reply, but merely sighed heavily in response, feeling so worked up. 

“I said does that feel good baby.”

“Fuck.. yes I-” Before you could finish speaking he was inserting a second finger, and didn’t stop until both fingers were ring-deep inside of you. You could feel every inch of his fingers sending waves of pleasure straight to your brain. He stilled for a second, still with his fingers inside of you and tilted his face up to yours. He just looked at you, his face emotionless but stern, studying you closely. He was driving you crazy, edging you on, and still giving you that stupid look. This was exactly what you craved.

“Look at me.” he said. “Look me in the eyes when I touch you.” You dragged your eyes open to meet his only inches away. He pulled his fingers down and out in one quick motion, before sliding them right back in and starting up a rhythm. In and out, scissoring you open a bit, feeling your walls, rings colliding with your entrance each time he pushed his fingers back in. You dripped onto his fingers, covering his knuckles with your juices. Moans spilled from your mouth as you bounced lightly on his fingers. You gripped his shoulders, pulling at the black fabric that was still annoyingly on his body. The way Timothee touched you radiated this dominant energy despite the fact that you were on top. He had a way of making you feel like all of you was his, no matter what position you ended up in, and it drove you wild. 

You started feeling your stomach get tighter, teetering on the edge of cumming all over his fingers. He noticed this too and began pulling his fingers out of you, not ready to let you come apart just yet.

“Clean it up.” he said putting his fingers close by your face. You took his hand in both of yours and slowly licked up the mess you made on his fingers. Your brain felt fuzzy, still grasping for the high he denied you, and as you licked yourself off his fingers your heart pounded in needy anticipation. Timothee watched you with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He began edging a hand down into his underwear, which were tight as his cock strained against them. You watched his jaw clench and unclench as he began pumping himself, getting harder and harder as you licked his fingers.

The sight was enough to throw you over the edge. You could not wait any longer. 

You let his hand drop from yours and you pushed yourself up and against him until the tip of his dick was right at your entrance. 

“You gonna fuck me, baby? You wanna ride my dick?” Timothee hissed.

You groaned in response and dropped your body down, letting his cock fill you all the way up until you bottomed out. A low, loud groan fell from his mouth and his hands found their way back to your hips. You allowed yourself to fixate on the feeling of him inside of you, filling you up so perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

After a second of adjustment, his hands found your hips again, and began guiding you, up and down, roughly, against him. The rhythm got faster and faster, and you whimpered above him as the incredible sensations racked through your body. He groaned beneath you, loving the way your pussy felt around him and the way your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders. He leaned forward and placed open mouthed kisses along your collarbone which was peeking out over the top of your now very messed up blouse, as the two of you got closer and closer. 

You dropped your head down onto his shoulder as you felt yourself start to tighten around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god. I’m gonna cum.” you moaned into his neck, feeling his hot skin and the tight breaths coming out of him. 

“You look sooo good, Y/N,” he whined moving his hands to your ass and rocking you against him. It was like you couldn’t get close enough to each other, and your bodies moved together in hot quick motions. Timothee angled himself into you and you suddenly felt him so deeply, so electrically, so incredibly well. You felt yourself come apart around his cock, grinding your hips down into his and crying out as the pleasure flowed through your body. 

The intensity of your orgasm was enough to throw Timothee over the edge too. He fucked up into you roughly as you clenched yourself around him, still coming down from your own high. He moaned your name loudly in your ear as he came undone, cumming in hot spurts inside you, and still holding your hips tightly against him. 

His dominant aura began to disappear as he recomposed himself, and his face melted into a smile. 

“God, I’m so obsessed with you.” he said, breathing heavily.

You leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. “You’re my muse, Timothee.” You peppered more kisses on his cheeks and neck.

The smile stayed plastered on his face for the rest of the evening, and through the award show he attended later, where he beamed at the rest of the cameras, thinking about how none of them could ever compare to you.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Akio

CW: References to the death of a friend, grief, suicide, murder 

Sequel to Found Out and this past flashback to Oliver Branch

The sound of thin, breaded pork cutlets frying in the big pan on the stove fills the air, and Akio breathes in the familiar smell where he lays on his back on his parents’ gigantic cream-colored sectional couch, stretched out across the whole length of it on one side. Not that he’s all that tall to take up all that much space, really, but what matters is that he would definitely have fallen asleep by now if it weren’t for holding his phone up over his face.

It fell on him, once, and he’s pretty sure no one noticed. Emi, his younger sister, hasn’t even looked up once from her own phone, except once to triumphantly announce that no one caught her and they all voted someone else off the ship. Then she looked back down and never looked back up.

Akio frowns, looking at his own screen, tapping his thumbs as he writes out an answer to the person messaging him. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?” His mother looks up from cooking, her eyes moving through the big open space right to him. They’d knocked down all the walls when they bought the house, open-concept-something-something. Akio didn’t care, but it was apparently deeply important to his parents. Something about family togetherness.

“You remember Tristan Higgs, right?”

Aimi pauses, tucks a bit of her short black hair behind one ear to get it out of her eyes as she flips the pork cutlets on by one, to get the other side nicely browned, too. The sizzling ratchets up in volume and then back down again. Next to her sits four bowls already filled with rice, and the table already has the vegetables ready to go. “Of course, honey. Oh, the anniversary’s coming up, isn’t it? I have an alarm set on my phone… did you want to go to the cemetery next week to see Ronnie and Paul?”

“Ew, no creepy graveyards for me, thanks,” Emi says, eyes still glued to her phone.

“We wouldn’t take you anyway,” Akio says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t even remember Tris or his parents.”

“I do, too. I was like seven. He was really nice. Mrs. Higgs was really nice, too. Mr. Higgs was weird.” 

“Wow, what a stellar eulogy that was, Emi. I can see why you want to be a writer when you grow up. The description there was just incredible.”

“Oh, go drive into a lake,” Emi says, without any particular rancor in her voice. 

“If you’re going to fight, I’m going to send you two upstairs so I at least don’t have to listen to it,” Aimi says, moving the cutlets to rest on a paper plate with paper towels lining it while she heats mirin, soy sauce, and… some other stuff in a different pan. Honestly, Akio has no idea exactly how katsudon happens, all he cares about is that it’s the perfect after-practice food and he is starving.

Except he keeps getting distracted by this guy on Insta. “Anyway, Mom, um, about Tris. So… yeah, I do want to go out and see his parents next week, yeah, but-... there’s this guy on Instagram who keeps asking about him. That’s… that’s weird, right?”

Aimi looks up, blinking. “Asking about Tristan? What is he asking?”

“Just like… he says he saw the video I put up on youtube, and he’s asking, like… what was his birthday, and did he like fried chicken, was he autistic, and… did he like musical soundtracks. This is weird stuff to ask a total stranger, right?”

“A little.” Aimi pauses while she watches the pan, and then pours a small bowl with beaten eggs into it, watching them spread and start to lighten to a puffy yellow as it cooked in the already-boiling liquid mixture. “Did you ask why he wants to know?”

“I did, but he just said he’s doing some research or something. But, like… research on what?” Akio taps on the guy’s little profile photo, bringing the profile itself up. “His username is benthebadmagician. Okay that’s-... that’s kind of cute.” 

Aimi’s voice turns sly. “Is this Ben cute?” 

“Ugh, gross, Mom. That’s not-... I mean he’s kind of-... that’s not important.”

“Ooooh, eyeballin’ the insta-hotties,” Emi singsongs. “Aki’s gettin’ desperate. Just get a freaking dating app like everyone else.”

“Already on it, Emi.”

“Then why exactly don’t you get any dates? Oh, right.” Emi sits forward and grins. “I forgot about your personality.”

Akio throws a throw pillow at her and the big orange poof misses by a mile. Emi laughs, getting to her feet and wandering over to the fridge, pulling a can of soda out and popping the top. “Aren’t you an athlete, how the hell did you miss that?”

“Language,” Aimi warns, waving a spoon at her daughter. She gently places the cutlets into the cooking eggs to finish up. “No swearing under my roof, young lady.”

“Aki swears all the time!”

“Aki is twenty-four years old,” Aimi says, almost primly. “And he doesn’t swear where I can hear him.”

“What, so it doesn’t count if you don’t hear him?”

“Of course it doesn’t, how do I know if I don’t hear him?”

Akio smiles, faintly, but he’s scrolling through the Ben guy’s instagram feed now. Just looking at the grid of squares, photos and videos. Lots of coffees and food, people laughing, photos of a girl with really pretty hair. Photos of Ben the Bad Magician himself. Nerd, Akio thinks, but cute nerd - definitely nose-in-a-book type. Nice brown hair, nice smile. 

“Oh look at that face,” Emi says, eyebrows raised. “Ben the Insta-Weirdo actually is cute huh?”

“Go eat slugs.” Akio keeps scrolling down and down, not sure what he’s looking for. Autism awareness banners - he checks those to learn the Ben guy’s got an autistic little brother, and his friend Christopher is autistic. There’s a couple slides, and he swipes his finger to what he assumes is a photo of the Ben guy with the little brother, who looks almost exactly like him, just a whole bunch younger and looking, unsmiling, off to one side while Ben grins at the camera.

Akio doesn’t bother checking the last slide - it’s probably just whoever the Chris guy is. He backs back out to the grid of thumbnails. Maybe he just picked up on the stuff Tris always did when he was excited, and got curious? Maybe his little brother liked the video? Akio’s gotten a couple comments from people saying they liked seeing an autistic kid just be fucking happy in public without getting shit on for it, and that used to be a big deal for Mrs. Higgs, too...

The question about musicals keeps snagging at him. Tris loved musicals, went through cycles with them. He and Akio had a whole routine done to a song in Hairspray, just for fun, when Tris was obsessed with that for a while. And then they were going to do the Time Warp as a routine once...

Akio keeps scrolling, only vaguely aware of his sister and mother talking, and Emi leaving the room to go call their dad in for dinner. 

Emi stops in the doorway and turns back. “Don’t forget to get his phone number, Aki. You can definitely trust strangers on the internet creepily interested in your dead best friend, right?”

Akio looks up, then, blinking at her. “Emi, that’s-...”

She seems to catch herself, and gives him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Aki. That got bitchy.”

“Language,” Aimi reminds her. “But I appreciate you apologizing. Does anyone even hear me say to use nice language any longer?”

“No,” Akio and Emi say in unison, and then Emi disappears down the hallway, bellowing for their father in her loudest voice even though she could easily walk up the stairs and not have to yell at all. 

Akio looks at his mother and deadpans, “Your daughter is really weird.”

Aimi matches him tone for tone. “Your sister is weirder.” 

She places the cutlets on top of the rice bowls with the egg just underneath the meat, carrying them one by one to the table, setting them each down in their place, and then grabs her glass of wine, patiently waiting for her while she cooked. She pads on bare feet across the hardwood floor over to the pale white rug, soft as down underfoot, and stands next to where Akio is laying down. “Are you looking at the profile?”

“I am, yeah. I don’t know what I’m looking for, really, just… hey, wait.” Akio stops at the thumbnail preview for a video, tapping to open it up. It starts with a blue-haired boy smiling, and his smile hits Akio all odd, makes his throat tighten and his heart start to race. The boy in the video puts up a finger and backs up, glances over his shoulder at a TV screen behind him playing the tango scene from Rent. 

Akio blinks as the boy holds out a hand and a girl with really gorgeous long wavy hair takes it, the two of them moving effortlessly into a perfect mimicry of the dance on screen. The room they’re in is mostly empty, furniture shoved to the walls to turn what looks like some kind of lobby into a dancing space.

“Wow, that kid can really dance,” Akio murmurs, but the smile catches him, tugs at the back of his mind. The blue-haired boy can’t keep the grin off his face, it has to hurt to smile so big for so long, and the last person Akio thought that about was…

“You got this, Chris!” Someone calls from offscreen, and for a second Akio hears Tris and catches his breath, but no, no, they said Chris. Someone else claps for Mari - that must be the girl, maybe. 

They continue to dance, and Akio can’t tear his eyes away. “Mom? Do you see this?”

Aimi looks up from straightening some magazines on the coffee table and leans over, sipping her wine absently. “See what, honey?”

“Look,” Akio whispers. His throat is closing up, he can’t manage anything more than that. 

The two do a spin, and then burst out laughing, and the Chris boy stands back up straight, throwing his arms up like he’s just hit a perfect landing-

“Oh my god,” Aimi says next to him, her own voice strangled and choked, and Akio feels his mother’s hand suddenly clutch onto his shoulder. “Aki, is-”

“He’s dead,” Akio whispers. “He killed himself after his parents-... he’s dead, Mom.”

The Chris boy looks right at whoever was filming the video, shoots them a brilliant, shining smile, and then starts rocking, his hands moving through the air and twisting at the wrists, bouncing up and down on his toes.

Akio’s breath is shuddering in and out, and his heart pounds, trying to break out of his chest. “He’s-... Mom, he’s dead.”

“His aunt had him cremated,” Aimi says, but her lips are barely moving and the wineglass is loos in her fingers. “After they found him. She didn’t want a funeral.”

“He’s dead,” Akio repeats, thinking of the smile, the movements, the shy way he ducks his head at the end when people clap him on the back. He backs up to the wall again, keeps scrolling, looks for more pictures of the blue hair. He opens every single one he can find, searching for something, some sign that will tell him he’s not seeing what he knows he’s seeing. “His aunt took his phone away after like three months and then he was dead a month later, wasn’t he?”

There’s a pause.

“Mom? Mom, didn’t he kill himself like four months after they died? Didn’t he?” Akio’s voice sounds weak and is getting weaker. “Mom, please-... please answer me, didn’t he-”

“He left a note,” Aimi whispers. “His aunt-... she said he left a note, that he couldn’t live without them. It’s-... I never thought-... I never thought to question her, Aki, I never-... she was Ronnie’s family...”

He clicks another video.

“You’re a fucking mess, Christopher,” The girl from the dance video says, sitting in a tank tops and shorts on the edge of a bathtub. “Letting your roots grow out like that. But don’t you worry, Madam Mari is here to help!”

“Please don’t, don’t don’t-don’t call yourself Madam. Please?” A voice says, uneasily, and the blue-haired boy moves into the screen. “For, for, for me?”

“Yeah, no problem, Chris. Why’d you let it grow out so bad, anyway?”

His hair’s not blue in this one - or it is, but only about half of it. Pale and faded, but the top of his hair has grown back in for about three inches, and it’s coppery strawberry blond. He turns to the camera and gives a sheepish smile. “I, I got distracted and for, um, forgot.”

Aimi’s wineglass slips from her fingers, hits the floor, sprays wine like blood across the pristine white rug. 

Neither of them notices.

“I… I cried for him for like a year straight,” Akio chokes out, and he finds more pictures, more videos, more more more. He opens them up and then backs out of them again, unable to stop himself. Every photo shows him some shard of the mirror reflection of a dead boy all grown up - a sparkle of green eyes, happy motions in the background of a video, more of that familiar sunny smile. “I kept-... I kept all the stuff he left in my room, I saved all h-his text messages from before he d, disappeared, I-”

“This can’t be him,” Aimi says in a fierce whisper. “It can’t be, Aki, it can’t.”

Akio taps on another video.

The boy ties his long blue hair back in it, glancing sidelong at the camera, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And, and, and you’ll, um, you’ll buy the, the, the-the-the nachos?”

“If you can still do it? Yeah, absolutely. Seeing that’s worth a plate of nachos to me. I’ll even buy you those fucking margaritas you like.”

“Chris just likes the sugar,” Someone else says, and Chris sticks his tongue out at them.

He takes a few steps back, rolling his shoulders, shaking out his arms. 

Akio tells himself that if the Chris on the screen doesn’t nail this, it can’t be him, it can’t be him at all. 

The boy puts his hands up, then down at his sides, back bowed briefly in a motion Akio knows too, too well, knows better than he knows breathing. The boy takes off across the grass without hesitation and-

Akio and Aimi both exhale.

-he jumps forward, dips at the waist, catches himself on his hands and does a perfect set of three backflips across a big grassy lawn, stumbling the landing but his feet pop right back into final position, and he throws his arms up with his chin lifted, and someone offscreen shouts, “Perfect Ten, Stanton!”

The boy laughs, shakes his head, says, “I’d be, be, be dinged for the, um, the landing, but-... but, but good, right? I did good? Laken?”

Someone with the coolest hair Akio has seen steps into the screen and they hug, kiss briefly, and then Chris apparently can’t handle the happy emotions because he backs away to start bouncing up and down, grinning.

He looks back at the camera. “Want to see me, me, me... me do it again?”

“He’s not dead,” Aimi says, and her voice sounds like someone closed their hands around her throat. “Oh, Ronnie-”

“What the fuck happened to Tristan fucking Higgs?” Akio’s voice is barely audible over the sound of the video starting over. “He’s… he’s not dead. He’s not dead, Mom, he’s not-... he’s not dead, Mom, he’s not dead and he’s right-... that the university, right? He’s not dead, and he’s, has he-... has he been here the whole fucking time?”

His mother doesn’t chide him for language this time. Her hand tightens on Akio’s shoulder as red wine soaks the rug beneath her feet and she whispers, “Give that Ben boy your number. Tell him to call you.”

Her fingernails ache where they dig into his skin through his shirt.

“Now.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fan Fiction

NEVER FORGET

For being on two different chapters in the book of life, they’re on the same page

(photo credit @ohmygarlands)

1943

Judy watched him.

In the bright sunshine, across from her trailer, Judy sat in the passenger seat of her personal studio golf-cart, waiting for Mickey. As she did so, she became mesmerized at the scene in front of her: Gene roughhousing with a bunch of studio kids. They all laughed and ran around him, even jumping on his back. It made Judy smile.

As she watched him, images of last night took over her mind, as she disappeared into a daydream. Back from filming Girl, Crazy in Palm Springs, it was their first time back together. They ended up spending the night in his trailer, as hers would be too suspicious. She was watched like a hawk. They planned on dinner at her house and catching up but didn't quite make it that far. Judy giggled to herself. Her amusement soon spread into butterflies as her body now remembered last night as well. Ecstasy was the only word that came to mind. Encounters with Gene were always amazing and fully satisfying, fun and sexy, but last night Gene acted somewhat different. Intense.

There he was, in front of her, playing with a bunch of children, like a big kid himself, when last night he kept making her come over and over. He did something beyond explanation to her body. There were times he'd go from devouring her like candy, to scanning his eyes around every part of her like she were a Monet painting, to fucking her so ardently her voice skipped, then tracing her skin with his finger like it was a delicate rose. Judy's cheeks warmed. She tried to focus but again, her mind wandered to early this morning as well.

She sat up in the small day bed at the back of his trailer, her hair tousled, hugging her knees to her bare chest. He hadn't noticed her awake yet as he stood by the small window looking out as he sipped his coffee just in his shorts. The amber glow of the morning sun hit his muscles like shadows, so much definition she could feel still feel them on her finger tips. His arms especially, looking so strong. He handled her so well. God, he looked so damn sexy, and he didn't even know it. She had bit her bottom lip, smiling bashfully. When he turned his head to her, she lowered her face behind her knees, her penetrating eyes only visible, telling him of her thoughts. When he smiled mischievously, that was it. He never did finish that cup of coffee.

"Judy!"

Judy flinched a bit as she was brought back to reality, but smiled wide at a friend walking on by. She waved back and then caught eyes with Gene. He was looking at her indifferently, the kids still playing around him. She kneaded her eyebrows a moment, haven't seen him look at her like that before, when a little boy jumped on the back of his back again interrupting their moment. Gene laughed and ran, the boy going piggy back. Judy didn't know why, but thoughts of Gene's family entered Judy's mind. When she was away, she had kept up with the entertainment section of Hollywood. Gene and Betsy had gone to a lot of parties and premieres together, and looked very happy. There was even a picture of Betsy looking at Gene adoringly as he held his daughter in his arms outside their house. Their marriage had been rocky there for a while, like hers had been with Dave, but it seemed anything but right now. Judy knew one thing: she was in-love with a man who was not willing to leave his family, and here she was, separated, living alone and ready to have fun. They were just not on the same page anymore. She didn't want to distance herself form him, but it was the healthiest thing to do. But, then here he was, her best friend, best lover, making her feel things no one else could again. It was frustrating.

"Why the long face," Mickey asked as he got into the driver's side.

"Just some things on my mind. Let's go."

"Hold on. Gene!"

Judy watched as Gene put his finger up to Mickey signaling a minute.

"What are you doing?"

"I invited Gene to tag along and watch us do the 'Can You Use Me' retakes."

"Why," Judy asked a little anxious now.

"Because he said his recording got re-scheduled. And he was already here. What's the problem?"

"No problem," Judy forced a cheery voice as Gene came strutting over.

"Hop on, buddy," Mickey said and Gene hopped onto the seat behind them, "Here we go."

"Don't you two look cute," Gene teased at their costumes.

"Brooks Brothers," Mickey teased back as they rolled through the lot.

"And yours," Gene asked Judy.

"Chanel," she said monotoned but obviously being sarcastic.

"She wears a lot of pants in this film. I think it's a disgrace."

"Why, because we filmed in 112 degrees," she commented.

"No, 'cause you got a hellava pair of stems on ya, honey. I think you should show 'em, right Gene?"

"You know me, Mick, I'm a leg man, myself. And Judy's got the best pair I've ever seen."

"Can we please stop talking about my legs?"

"Why? What's got into you," Mickey asked a little concerned. He knew she loved her own legs, her greatest asset other than her voice, and found it confusing that she actually sounded annoyed.

"I'm just tired," she said softly, dusting invisible lint off her costume pants.

"I wonder why," Gene said in more of a statement than a question. Mickey didn't detect any difference in Gene's voice but Judy did, and she looked at him slyly over her shoulder.

The disdain of her look at him made Gene's smile quickly go away and he was the one furrowing his brow now.

"So, uh, how was filming in Palm Springs," he asked changing the subject.

"Hot as hell."

"You're the one that wanted to have a filming 'vacation', darling."

"Well, I didn't know it would be the devil's layer. We had sandstorms too."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, we had to shut production down for a few days. Judy took advantage of that, didn't ya, Judes," he said elbowing her flirtatiously.

"Be quiet, Mickey," Judy warned.

"What, you're single now. This one ran off with her new boyfriend."

Judy quickly looked at Gene, who looked unfazed, and then placed her hand up to her head embarrassed.

"She missed the first day back. You know who was PISSED, but she said it was worth it, if ya know what I mean," he laughed, "Can't blame her. She needs to have some fun again, right Gene?"

"Right," he simply stated.

"I can't speak any differently. When Ava and I started going together, I missed some days, too. Shit happens."

Judy was silent the rest of the ride.

"And CUT! That was amazing, guys. Print that. Judy, honey, Mick, take a break while we set up the camera for a different angle," replacement Director, Norman Tourag, shouted from a distance.

Judy plopped into her director chair and her assistant handed her a glass of water with a straw.

"That's a fun scene," Gene commented as he pulled up his seat next to her.

"You're still here," she giggled before taking a sip of water.

"Nothing better to do. Besides, I like watching you work. It's much easier to do when I don't have to be in the scene."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's fun. You sure look like you're having fun."

"I really am."

They were both silent a long moment when Judy started feeling antsy. There was tension energy between them and she didn't like it.

"Gene, what Mickey said earlier about..."

"Joe," he interjected. She looked over at him wide-eyed and he went on, "I know."

"How do you know?"

"Word travels fast around here...even from Palm Springs." Suddenly, Judy's face looked like she had many questions, but before she could speak, he took her hand, "Let's talk. But not here."

He looked completely calm and unfazed which baffled her,  but also made her relax, "Okay. Um, I'm going to Ciro's with a few friends tonight to see Lena sing."

"What time are you going?"

"10."

"I'm doing pool with some fella's tonight. I'll just meet you at your place after. What time do you think you'll be back?"

"I'll come home around 1:30 or so."

"Sounds good," he said and patted her leg before getting up, "Tell Mick I said bye and thanks for the invite. You look beautiful by the way."

As Judy watched him walk away, she smiled. With just a simple comment like that from him, her confidence boosted ten-fold which she knew would radiate on screen. It always did.

Gene was absolutely content. He was laying in Judy's hammock in her backyard. It softly swayed with the summer evening wind, her rose bushes filled his nostrils as crickets chirped and the water from her small fountain pond added to the ambience. It all reminded him of her. He wanted to stay there forever but knew that couldn't be done.

"There you are," he suddenly heard her voice above him.

"Here I am," he spoke before opening his eyes.

"How long have you been here?"

"Oh, about twenty minutes. Pool ended early. You know how much I love it out here. Thought I'd catch some sleep before you returned."

"Sorry to cut your nap short," she replied as she carefully got onto the hammock with him. He adjusted to accommodate her and she immediately snuggled into his side.

Gene checked his watch, "It's only midnight. Why are you back so early? Weren't having fun?"

"I was...until the Trifecta walked in."

"No," he said shocked.

Everyone involved in the studio system in Hollywood knew the 'Trifecta' referred to the three Presidents of the three most popular studios: Louis B. Mayer, of MGM, Darryl Zanuck of Twentieth Century-Fox and of J. Cowdin of Universal.

"Yeah."

"Since when the hell does Mayer go out to nightclubs?"

Judy nodded, "That's what I was thinking, too."

"And since when the hell do all three of those men get together? They're like sworn enemies."

"Gene, you should have seen everybody. It was hysterical. They practically emptied the joint. Everyone left."

"They probably planned that so all their players would go home to sleep so they're not late to film the next day."

"It was very strange to see them walk in together, all chummy."

"Well, maybe they're planning on taking over the world."

Together, they swayed gently, enjoying each other's warmth and comfort. Gene suddenly regretted that he invited himself over so they could talk, as he was enjoying the silence, but then she spoke.

"Are you angry about me spending time with Joe?"

Oh, she wanted to talk, too.

"Did I give you that reaction?"

"That's not an answer."

Gene opened his eyes to find her head lifted, looking at him nervously.

"No, I'm not angry. I don't have the authority to be."

"What do you mean?"

"We're not exclusive. I'm a married man. You're single. So, you had another summer rendezvous. It is what it is."

"Are you jealous?"

Gene couldn't help but chuckle. He knew she wanted him to be, but she also knew he was, "Of course. I'm very protective of you honey."

"Is that why you were the way you were last night, because you heard about me spending time with another man?"

"No, but the way I was how?"

"Just...intense and almost desperate," judging by his confound expression she went on, "I enjoyed it so much, I don't have to tell you that, but it felt different. It was almost like it was the last time."

Gene just stared at her a moment before licking his bottom lip anxiously as he sat them up.

"That's because it kind of was," he didn't dare look at her, "I mean, in the months we've been apart, Bets and I have been getting along better. It's almost like how we were in New York. And we're enjoying each other with our daughter. I've seen you go and enjoy yourself with another man, as you should. It's your God-given right as a soon-to-be divorced woman. I just thought, you know maybe it was a good time for us to distance ourselves from each other ...um, physically right now."

Judy knew this was a serious conversation, but how nervous he was made her nerves instantly disappear. She actually giggled. Her giggle alerted him though, and he finally looked up at her with wide eyes as if she were about to start a fight.

"You know, darling," she giggled again, "For two people who are in different chapters of life, we're on the same page. Throughout the summer, I saw pictures of you and Betsy out and about in magazines, and with your beautiful baby, and even though we hadn't talked, I knew things were better for you. And I felt happy for you. I actually couldn't believe it. I thought, my marriage ended and now yours is getting better. I should have been jealous. But then Joe came around again, and I've been having a lot of fun with him. It was then that I thought maybe since we are in different circumstances now, that maybe we should focus on our own futures apart...for now at least. I don't really want you to go away."

"I'm not going anywhere. As a friend, and companion, you're it for me baby. And as a lover...well it's never off the table. There's something between us, some type of connection, I can't quite explain, but I know it's a lifetime worth."

Judy smiled and leaned over kissing him, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "Last night, I gotta confess, I also wanted to make you never forget how I made you feel."

Judy's eyes reflected off the moonlight as she looked at him impishly as she stood up. She held her hand out for him and he took it, standing up.

"Where are we going?"

"You got your last time last night, now it's my turn."

He stopped yanking her hand abut. She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her chin raised as she smiled up at him. His crows feet deepened as he smiled wickedly, "What are you going to do?"

"Make you​ never forget how I made you feel."

She raised up on her tippy toes and have him a peck on the lips before walking towards her patio door. Gene stood there a sec, completely transfixed, and aroused, by the sultry voice and implication she used.

Turning around, noticing he wasn't following, she looked at him with raised eyebrow, "Come on, let's go."

When she disappeared through the door, Gene felt his erection harden, and he let out a naughty chuckle before following her inside.

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze (24/25)

Previous

Warnings: Jaskier has a small panic attack in this chapter, but Geralt helps him through it. The whole thing is barely a paragraph.

_______

Saturday.

Finally!

The first day of the summer holidays! Jaskier had barely been able to resist throwing his arms around Geralt the day before when the fireman had come to collect Ciri after school but they’d both agreed that they should at least try to wait until the weekend. So he’d forcibly stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. He couldn’t help the dazzling smile he flashed at Geralt but at least he managed to keep his hands to himself.

But that was now a thing of the past.

He sat up in bed with more energy than he’d had in the mornings in years. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair as he searched for his phone within the pile of sheets. He found the bastard under one of his pillows and immediately rang Geralt without looking at the time.

It rang a few times before Geralt picked up.

“The fuck?” Geralt grumbled into the phone.

Jaskier frowned and pulled the phone away from his ear so he could look at the time. “Oh shit!” He cackled and then put the phone on speaker. “Sorry, darling. I’m still on school time.”

“Jaskier, you’re never on school time, even during term time,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh shush. I just wanted to say that I love you!” He trilled happily.

Geralt grunted.

“Oh ho ho! Aren’t you a grumpy arse this morning?” Jaskier giggled and rolled onto his back, planting his legs up against the wall.

“Fuck off.”

“No! Because it is the school holidays and I, Jaskier Pankratz, love you, Geralt Rivia.” He sighed wistfully.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt!” He whined.

He knew the fireman was tired but he could at least say it back once. The fucker.

“Love you too, now can I get back to sleep?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear heart, but call me when you’re awake, alright?”

“Fine.”

The line went dead.

The bastard.

He considered going back to sleep himself but he had too much energy. He jumped out of bed, tripping over his shoes that were on the floor right by his bed, and went flailing across the room.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he landed, rather painfully, against the door. He would probably have a lovely bruise on the hip that crashed against the wall, but it was better than landing on his wrists and breaking them.

He sort of needed those to play his instruments.

He supposed he could always just sing.

Nah. That was shit.

Plus Priscilla would kill him if he couldn’t finish up the new album. He still had at least one lute track to put down, and even though she could play the lute, he was more skilled and she preferred to focus on the singing. She’d complained enough about his insistence on using the lute over the guitar on this album but he’d refused to back down. He had a vision!

So fuck the guitar.

He sighed and straightened his glasses, frowning as he noticed the smudges on the lenses. How the fuck were they already dirty? He’d only cleaned them last night before bed.

Fuck it.

Pancakes!

Ooh he could make the chocolate chip kind and send photos to Geralt. They had an unspoken rule that one did not make chocolate chip pancakes without photographic evidence unless they were both there to enjoy it. He frowned as he reached the edge of his living/kitchen area, and stuck his tongue between his lips. Maybe he should wait until he could make pancakes with Geralt and Ciri? He didn’t want to make them too often. They wouldn’t be special if he made them too often.

He scoffed. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” He muttered. He gazed longingly at the flour and sugar on the top shelf of his cupboards and then grabbed a box of chocolate cereal instead.

Yes he still ate chocolate cereal. The boring old flakey stuff was shit and he actually had taste buds. He preferred his food to not taste like cardboard.

Gods, how was he an adult?

He sighed and scrolled through the social media on his phone. Triss had put up a few pictures from the pub the night before. He’d reluctantly declined the invitation as the wolves were going along, even though Geralt had stayed behind to look after Ciri. There were quite a few of Triss and Eskel pulling funny faces at the camera, and one adorable photo of Triss kissing his cheek. Eskel looked incredibly happy. They were cute together. Jaskier hit the heart button and typed out a string of heart-eyes emojis in the comments.

Even Yennefer had put up a rare personal post. She normally kept her social media for her art stuff  but there was a stunning photograph of her outside the pub. She was wearing a long white chiffon  dress matched with a leather jacket and heavy leather boots, not exactly summery but it was Yennefer. She was gazing off to the side, her face lit by dull glow of the street lamps, one fiery violet eye almost glowing in the darkness.

Jaskier pouted. How was she so fucking photogenic all the time? Seriously how was Geralt now dating him after that?

“Urgh,” he groaned and hit the heart button.

JaskierTheBard: Stop making us all look bad, Yennefer! Stunning photograph darling x

He reread the reply twice and hit send. It was kinder than he usual response to Yennefer but honestly he had to admit she was a little bit sexy in that one, which just wasn’t fair.

Renfri had posted a group photo of the whole gang and he whined. It looked like a fun night. Stupid Philippa and her rules. It wasn’t fair that he had to miss out, but thankfully those days were officially over!

He lost track of time as he scrolled on his phone. He swore as he suddenly remembered his cereal. He groaned as he peered into his bowl. The milk was chocolatey and the cereal had all but disintegrated. He fucking hated soggy cereal.

“Cock,” he muttered and threw the whole lot in the bin.

He was about to put some toast on when his door bell rang. He yelped and jumped at the sound. He looked down at himself. He was still just wearing his boxers. Fuck. He ran to his bedroom and grabbed his dressing gown. It was too hot really to wear it in the summer but he wouldn’t have time to get dressed.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Geralt was at the door holding a bunch of roses with a sheepish smile on his face.

Jaskier grinned. “Geralt!” He flung his arms around his boyfriends neck and then swore as he realised he was probably crushing the flowers. “Umm, let me just go get some water. Wait. These are for me? They are beautiful. Geralt!” He whined and covered his face in his hands.

Geralt, the fucker, just laughed at him. “They’re for you. I thought… well, Ciri said I couldn’t go on a date without flowers. She was really stubborn about it.”

Jaskier snorted and carefully took the flowers from Geralt. They weren’t too badly crushed, thank Melitele for that. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he teased.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calanthe, her grandmother. Even Pavetta had a stubborn streak. Trust me, this one has nothing to do with me.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean… hmmph!”

Geralt had kissed him.

Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kissed and then pulled back to gaze into Geralt’s beautiful amber eyes.

“You don’t get to do that every time you want me to shut up, dearest,” he chided gently.

Geralt smirked and just kissed him again.

Ok so perhaps he could.

Gods he was so smitten.

“I love you,” he breathed against Geralt’s lips when they finally pulled apart.

Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I love you too, even if you do have morning breath.”

Jaskier gasped and shoved against Geralt’s chest. “Rude!” He pouted.

“You love me,” Geralt reminded him. “How are you not dressed yet? You’ve been awake for hours.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Internet.”

“Come on, get dressed. I want to take you out.” Geralt instructed with a tilt of his head.

Jaskier laughed. “Take me out how? Kill me or date me? Honestly I’m down for both.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and rolled his eyes.

“Kill me, right. Got it,” he winked at his boyfriend. “Now are you absolutely sure you want me to get dressed? Because I have the perfect outfit to wear but once I’m in those jeans I am not taking them off again,” he stroked Geralt’s cheek with one finger and then bopped him on the nose.

“Hmm. Brush your teeth and I’ll get water for the flowers.” Geralt took the roses back off him. “Do you have a vase?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Of course I have a vase. I’m gay!”

“That’s not an excuse for everything, Jaskier, and I’m pretty sure you’re bi,” Geralt rolled his eyes.

Jaskier laughed. “That’s just homophobic.”

“That’s not—” Geralt cut himself off and pinched his nose. “Bathroom. Now. I’ll find the vase.”

Jaskier giggled happily and went to brush his teeth.

Oh sweetest Melitele! He loved the summer holidays!

__________________

After a few false starts they finally made it out of Jaskier’s flat. He was slightly regretting his choice in black skinny jeans but really they made his legs and arse look great. It was was his first proper date with Geralt and he wanted to look good. They both managed a quick shower and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair to elevate his usual half up do. Geralt even let Jaskier slip a couple of buttercup clips into the braids.

Geralt was wearing the outfit he’d turned up it which Jaskier hadn’t managed to appreciate before but he could now as he gazed happily at his partner across the table. Geralt had also gone for black skinny jeans, thank you Freya, and a slick black short-sleeved shirt. Honestly Jaskier didn’t know how the man wasn’t boiling in the heat of the summer in all that black but he wasn’t going to complain. It was the first time he’d seen Geralt in a shirt and he was loving it.

In comparison Jaskier had decided on a bright turquoise shirt. He’d left the bottom few buttons undone and tied the ends in a knot to turn the shirt into a crop top. The intensity of Geralt’s gaze on him when he’d finally been allowed to see the whole look had almost cause yet another delay to their date but Jaskier had just winked and pulled his slightly dazed partner out of the flat, switching his glasses for his prescription sunglasses.

He had been far too hungry to delay any further and he wanted to go on a cute date with his boyfriend!

Geralt suggested an adorable little sandwich parlour. It didn’t look like much from the outside but inside it was cosy and quiet, a perfect lunchtime date spot.

Or it would have if they hadn’t been interrupt by Lambert and Renfri… again.

Seriously, every time they ended up in a coffee shop those two were there. They both had wet hair and flushed red faces. Jaskier assumed the pair of them had been at the gym. Geralt had mentioned they liked to spar together on the wolf pack’s days off, that and the work out clothes sort of gave them away.

“Well, well, well,” Lambert laughed as they approached and crossed his arms. “So much for Triss and Eskel’s theory of you moving on, Dandelion.”

Jaskier gaped at the redhead. “Wait what? Have you been talking about us?!” He pointed a finger at the pair of them.

Renfri rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they have anything better to do? I’ve had to keep my mouth shut for months whilst these idiots try and think of a plan to set you two up. Triss was heartbroken when you told her you’d moved on. She was really rooting for you guys.”

“Wait, you knew?” Lambert growled at Renfri, she just shoved him in the face.

“Of course I knew. It was fucking obviously. You just had to look at Geralt’s face whenever Jaskier was mentioned. He lit up like a petrol can.”

“Renfri,” Geralt sighed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Renfri snorted and Jaskier cackled. Oh ho! He was going to have so much fun with this. He held Geralt’s hand over the top of the table and smiled at his lover. “Oh darling, I didn’t know you cared so much,” he simpered with a flutter of his eyelashes.

“I’m pretty sure I showed you how much I care this morning, more than once.”

Jaskier blushed and pulled his hand away. “Touché, dear heart, touché,” he licked his lips as he remembered the morning’s activities. “Please, feel free to remind me any time.”

“Nope!” Lambert yelled and covered his ears. “No. You are not going to be that couple. Urgh.”

“Months I’ve had to put up with this!” Renfri complained. “Come on, wolf. Let’s leave the love birds in peace. They’ll put me off my lunch otherwise.”

“So gross,” Lambert agreed.

Jaskier laughed as the pair of them scarpered from the shop, and he rested his head on his chin as he ate his chips. They were like the kind you get in fish and chip shops and covered in blessed salty goodness. Geralt, the monster that he was, covered his with vinegar so Jaskier wouldn’t steal his chips as well.

“So what’s their deal?” Jaskier asked though mouthfuls of delicious fried potato.

Geralt tilted his head, he also now had a mouthful of cheesesteak sandwich.

“They said they weren’t dating?” Jaskier tried to explain.

Geralt huffed and Jaskier waited for him to finish eating. “Renfri doesn’t date. She has no interest in it.”

Jaskier nodded. “Asexual?”

Geralt shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just the dating thing,” he scowled as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I think she called it aromantic, but even then her and Lambert are practically siblings. They’d probably both stab you for suggesting anything else.”

“Right. Noted. Rather not be stabbed. I made it all the way through the school year. It would be a fucking shame if I got stabbed now,” he flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Especially when you look so bloody sexy in that shirt.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the man wearing a crop top.”

Jaskier grinned and leant forward so his lips were almost touching Geralt’s. “It would look better on your bedroom floor, darling.”

Geralt’s eyes went dark and Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose. “But not yet. I’m starving and these chips are brilliant! I cannot believe you would ruin them with vinegar.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fucking tease, Jaskier.”

Jaskier just laughed and brushed his foot up against Geralt’s leg under the table. “You love it,” he agreed with a wink.

“Hmm.”

“You doooo,” Jaskier insisted. “And you love me!”

“I admit nothing.”

“I’ll make it up to you later?” He flashed his most flirtatious grin at Geralt, rubbing his foot further up Geralt’s leg.

“Jask,” Geralt half moaned and Jaskier laughed at the pretty blush on Geralt’s cheek.

“Yes, dearest Geralt?” He sang, feigning innocence.

“I hate you.” His boyfriend groaned and hid his face behind his hands.

“I know, love. I know.”

____________________

Jaskier was busy pulling on one of Geralt’s hoodies that he’d pinched earlier on in their relationship, when Geralt sighed loudly. Jaskier bounced back over to the bed and straddled his boyfriend’s hips.

“What’s up, dear heart?” He said with a tilt of his head.

Geralt’s long hair was now loose. Jaskier had taken great delight in undoing his own work and letting the silver strands fall loosely by Geralt’s face. His hair was naturally wavy after a shower anyway but it had been accentuated where the braids had been, and by the gods, Geralt had looked so beautiful. He still did. Only now he had his grumpy face back on. Jaskier gently stroked his thumb along Geralt’s cheek, brushing a loose strand away from his eyes.

“We need to tell Ciri,” Geralt groaned.

“Already? I thought we were going to tell her we’re friends first.”

“Won’t work.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow and huffed. “And why not?”

“She’s too clever, and I love you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier felt his smile soften at Geralt’s words and he shifted so he could lie back down on Geralt’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “And I love you, my dearest of hearts.”

“Hmm.” He felt Geralt kiss the top of his hair and he sighed happily.

“So we tell her when?”

“Come home with me?” Geralt suggested. “She knows I was on a date.”

“It has been a long date,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, and it really had. Geralt had arrived mid-morning at it was now late afternoon bordering on early evening. “Won’t she be worried about you?”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt his heart race faster in his chest. Geralt’s laugh was so warm, rough and woefully underused. It always made Jaskier’s day when he could make Geralt laugh so freely. “Yennefer took her to the zoo. She thought we might need the extra time.”

Jaskier giggled. “I cannot imagine Yennefer Vengerberg at the zoo!” He laughed harder as he pressed his face against Geralt’s bare shoulder.

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he grinned, placing a kiss on Geralt’s shoulder. “She seems too classy for the zoo.”

Geralt threaded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and he hummed in contentment. He’d always enjoyed it when his partners played with his hair. The gentle tug at his scalp just turned him to goo. If he was a cat he was sure he’d be purring. As it was he couldn’t stop the happy hum in his chest.

“No one is too classy for the zoo,” Geralt said with such sincerity that Jaskier let out a peal of laughter and rolled onto the mattress next to Geralt. He felt Geralt roll onto his side and their eyes met. Geralt was smirking at him with mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier was overwhelmed with the love that was in his heart. In reality his time with Geralt really hadn’t been that long at all but it had just been blissful. Their forbidden romance seemed to have extended their honeymoon period and he still felt as gooey over his boyfriend as he had the first time he’d seen Geralt enter his classroom ten months prior.

“Quite right, dear. I love the zoo,” he sighed longingly. It had been ages since he had been.

“Next time we’ll go.” Geralt suggested. “I like the animals.”

“Deal. Ooh does this mean I finally get to meet Roach?!” He cried in excitement, a smile lighting up his face.

Geralt nodded. “She doesn’t like new people though. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jaskier reached over to kiss Geralt and then rest his forehead against Geralt’s. “Of course not, darling.”

“Good…” Geralt paused. “Darling.”

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he buried his face in one of the pillows of the bed, making sadly incoherent noises that he wasn’t proud of. “Geralt!!” He whined pitifully. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Geralt scoffed. “You do all the time.”

Jaskier glared at him with a pout. He could feel the heat of the blush on his cheek. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry.” Geralt smirked, kissing Jaskier’s temple. “I don’t think pet names are my thing.”

Jaskier pouted. “Hmmph.”

Reluctantly he rolled off the bed and pulled Geralt to his feet. With one last kiss he let Geralt get dressed. His boyfriend really did need to get back to Ciri and apparently Jaskier was going to be re-introduced to the young girl as her father’s new boyfriend; only a day after the term had finished.

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. Why would he be? Ciri loved him… as her teacher. Oh gods, he was going to fuck this up so badly. His heart was racing, and not in the good I’m in love way. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

He gasped a breath and leant against the wall. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist in an instance. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier breathed, trying to match his breath with Geralt’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled when the worst of it was over.

“What happened?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his ears.

“She adores you, Jaskier.” Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. “She was disappointed when I said it wasn’t you.”

Jaskier groaned. “She’ll hate that you lied to her.”

“She’ll come round.” Geralt insisted.

“How are you so calm?” He snapped.

Geralt sighed. “Because she’s my daughter and she loves me, and she adores you.”

Jaskier nodded. “Ok. Ok. Yes. Let’s do this, before I run away and decide to live in a cave with just my lute for company.”

Geralt scoffed. “Always so dramatic.”

Jaskier managed a smile at that, even after his little wobble of anxiety. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

__________________

They were standing, hand in hand, outside Geralt’s house. Geralt and Ciri’s house. Jaskier hadn’t been here since the beginning of May when Ciri had been away with Yennefer. Ciri wasn’t away this time and they were about to reveal everything to her. He curled his toes in his shoes and hummed nervously under his breath. Geralt’s house suddenly seemed a lot larger than it had before.

Geralt squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine, Jask.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I trust you.”

“Come on then. You’ll stay for dinner?”

Jaskier nodded again. “But I should probably go home after dinner. I imagine we’ll both need our own space by then.”

Geralt chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s voice squeaked a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Good.” Geralt moved to unlock the front door but it opened before he could get the key in the lock.

Yennefer stood on the other side with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at them both, looking far too evilly delighted for Jaskier’s liking.

“MR JASKIER!!” Ciri shrieked and there was a blur of blonde hair before Jaskier was knocked flying by the young girl.

He laughed nervously and hugged her back. “Hello, Ciri.”

“I knew it was you!!” She screamed happily. “Dad said it wasn’t but I knew it was you!”

“You don’t mind?” Jaskier asked, tentatively patting his former student on the back as she clung onto him.

Ciri pulled back and looked up at him. Her nose was scrunched up and she pouted. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, because I was your teacher and now I’m dating your father?” Jaskier stammered. He glanced at Geralt who just raised a knowing eyebrow at him. The bastard had known this would happen.

Ciri rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So? Everyone will be jealous. You’re the best teacher at school!”  She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Maybe you shouldn’t boast too much about it Ciri. It’s not kind.”

Ciri just stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out right back at her and she giggled.

“Jaskier’s right, princess. It would be best if you don’t tell everyone just yet,” Geralt said as he scooped her up into a hug.

“But it’s Mistle’s birthday party next week!” She pouted.

“Ciri,” Yennefer sighed, brushing the young girl’s hair out of her eyes. “Can we trust you to keep this a secret for now?”

Ciri scrunched her nose but nodded. “Ok, but only if we can go back to see the lions at the zoo! They were my favourite.”

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and smiled. “Well, buttercup, funny you should say that….”

____________

Next

[queerchoicesblog]

Epilogue: Underwater (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

As promised, here the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele Series, folks. 

This is the very end of a project that meant me quite a lot to me and got me through the last terrible year. Thanks to all those who supported it: hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy this ending.

In case you were wondering, this song inspired the whole series, particularly the last chapters:

I will skip the tag list for once since it’s pointless anyway. 

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16, Ch. 17

_________________________

Almost a century after the sinking of the RMS Titanic and to celebrate Canada becoming the first country outside Europe to legalise same-sex marriage, the Canadian Film Institute decided to work side by side with several LGBTQ+ organisations across the world to put together an exhibition focused on the early queer cinema and the many queer stars who were forced to hide their true selves in the Golden Age of cinematography, spanning from 1890s till the aftermath of Second World War. "A testament to the role the LGBTQ+ community played in the history of cinema and that we have always been here, even if people hardly saw us" as a journalist wrote on a queer magazine. After the recent discovery of some private documents, the curators were overjoyed to include an icon of the 1900s - 1910s cinema like Zetta Serda into the retrospective and cast a new light on her extraordinary career sadly soon forgotten after the advent of the sound era. Yet, the silent picture star was mentioned as a model and 'endless source of inspiration" by many queer movie stars like Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Greta Garbo all part of the retrospective. Rumor has it that as soon as she landed in America, Marlene Dietrich demanded his agent a meeting with Mrs King.

A curator drove all the way to Montreal to meet the last known heir, a certain Mrs. Julia Nowak, who greeted him on the threshold of a cosy downtown apartment. She offered him a coffee and a slice of a Polish sweet bread: the recipe was a family heirloom, she explained, beaming. She was in her late fifties, a therapist, she said. Her hazel eyes gleamed when she added, in a pleasantly soothing voice that betrayed a hint of excitement: "I must confess I am so incredibly happy that you contacted me about the retrospective. I adore the idea and I will make sure to attend it. Also" she nodded to a wedding picture hung to the wall "did you know that my wife is in politics? She campaigned for the legalisation...yes, Madeleine Fournier: see, you know her! We got married right after the law passed. If anything, your call and project made me twice as happy". She took a pause, smiling over her coffee in remembrance. "Anyway, back to the matter of your visit...yes, as far as I know, I am Zetta's last heir. As you probably know, my family wasn't officially related to her but she stated otherwise in her will". She moved to the couch and gestured the curator to follow her as she opened up one of the boxes and chests piled into the living room and picked out an old album, the leather cover worn at the edges. Dust waltzed in the air as she opened it with caution and gentle care. She showed him a slightly discoloured black and white picture of a young couple kissing for the camera in front of a church. Another wedding picture, from a different era. "Nana Hileni and Papa Maciej's wedding picture. I still remember them even if they both died when I was barely a teen...as if one couldn't bear to live without the other. Or so I like to think. She would help me with the homework, mathematics particularly, and he baked this bread for me till he was too weak to do so. He always claimed that he won Nana's heart with his pastries but she always denied it laughing". She passed another picture of the same couple proudly standing in front of the Nowak family bakery in Hoboken. "Frankly, I believe that Papa's broad shoulders and Marlon Brando smile are more likely to blame for this coup de foudre" she laughed. "And he knew how to deal with her no-nonsense attitude and vice versa. They...balanced each other, if you wish". She picked another picture and handed it to him. A woman was looking down in tender adoration and awe to a baby nestled in her arms looking up at her, outstretching a tiny arm in an attempt to touch her face. "There! This is Dad" she pointed at the baby before turning the picture where someone wrote 'Alex meets Auntie Adele'. Turning it again, she pointed at the woman. "This is Adele Carrem. Or Auntie Adele as I've always heard calling her. Nana's sister and Zetta's publicist and companion" Putting it back into the album, she carefully picked a bunch of other old pictures. "You surely know who this one is" she smiled, handing out the one on top. The photo was rather grainy but you could still recognise the same kid, slightly older, around two, sucking his thumb, cuddled up in Zetta's lap. The actress had aged a little but her features were unmistakable and it was endearing to see her sitting by the fireplace to read that kid with the sleepy face a bedtime story. "Sadly, I have never met them. I wish I did, oh you have no idea...but stories of them lived through in our family" Julia continued. "My Dad loved his Aunties - as he called them - dearly and by what I've heard and read, they loved him in manner as if he was their own. He knew little of them or Zetta's career back then...to him they were just the sweet ladies who would buy him ice-cream in Central Park or take him to see his favourite pictures over and over again at the movie theater. He said he will never forget the afternoons he used to spend with them in a Manhattan cafe that no longer exists around Christmas: Nana and Papa worked like crazy as the festive season approached and the glorious cup of hot chocolate with an elegant puff of cream on top with the Aunties became a tradition to him. He kept it alive somehow as he did the same with me". She handed the curator a bunch of other pictures: Zetta cleaning up Alex's face smeared with jam, the both of them laughing; Zetta posing with Maciej and her Dad at a table in the Hoboken bakery. He eventually mirrored her smile seeing a five years old Alex at the beach all engrossed in building a sandcastle with Hileni and Adele, and he standing at the water edge hand in hand with Miss Carrem, looking out into the distance. "These are family pictures. I'll show you the Zetta's private memorabilia we cherished". Julia searched a little, opening an old chest and handling every item inside with tender care. When she found what she was looking for, she showed the curator an elegant set of smaller boxes containing letters, dried flowers and photos. "I have already received an offer to get these published. I'm still pondering it. Before agreeing, I want to consider throughly if this is a thing they would have wanted, even if they're no longer here" The curator nodded as she kept searching. He skimmed a few letters and smiled as his eyes fall on the photos hidden away in those boxes: the two women sitting together and chatting at Hileni's wedding, Zetta's reading a script, lazily sprawled on a chaise long in her apartment. Some had short lines handwritten on the back, like a promotional picture with "Missing you" written by Zetta herself. The curator showed another to Mrs Nowak: a visibly excited Miss Carrem proudly showing to the camera a document announcing her voter registration. On the back, in Zetta's penmanship: "On the way to vote...my sweet Adele won!". "Oh you didn't know? Auntie Adele was a suffragette! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it! Nana told me that she was in and out jail when they lived in London because of protests. You know, like those suffragettes you read about in history books but less famous. Yet she fought for women's rights and kept fighting for them even in America. She was quite disappointed though by some major decisions of some feminist movements and eventually joined a socialist Union 'more rightfully welcoming working class individuals, immigrants and black brothers and sisters'. It's all in those letters but yeah, you couldn't possibly know. So little is known about her outside family". A little smile drew on her face as she put back the photo. "That photo was taken the day of the first election open to women. I checked the date. I suppose Zetta wanted to immortalise the moment...it was sweet of her, huh? Auntie Adele must have been so proud and overjoyed that day! You know, my Dad was born in 1920 when women's right to vote was legalised nationally and Nana once told me that Auntie commented the lucky coincidence saying she was incredibly happy her nephew would get to live in a fairer world. She was a true force of nature...she never talked much of the sinking of the Titanic just like Zetta and Nana actually but when one day Dad asked...he was barely a child and probably found an old article about the tragedy...Auntie Adele minimised but Nana assured him that her sister saved her life that night, risking her own to go down to the belly of the sinking ship to bring her to safety. Auntie simply shrugged, saying that it was what sisters do and that they made it to the lifeboats only thanks to Zetta, who shouted protests to stubborn officers and eventually found them a spot on a boat. I cannot even bring myself to imagine how scary that must have been: I cried so much when Madeleine took me to see Leo and Kate...to think they were there and it was all real!" She picked a few other objects out the box: a Shakespeare Sonnets book in a leather cover with golden engravings, with a little handwritten dedication 'To Adele, my sonnet 116. Happy birthday! With all my love, Zetta'; old scripts with annotations, a framed photograph of Adele and Zetta slow dancing barefoot in the living room of a gorgeous Long Island mansion. "These have a sentimental value" Mrs Nowak noted, her voice betraying the flicker of emotions as she picked it up. She took a deep sigh and continued. "I remember the day I told Dad I was gay as it was yesterday. We had always been quite close so it came natural to tell him first. We were in his car, he had come straight from college to pick me up at ice-skating practice. I..I dropped it in the middle of a conversation, bracing myself for the worst. I heard so many bad stories about coming out to your parents I was terrified of the consequences but I couldn't hide it anymore. I mean, yes, in public: bullies get even nastier if they know and I didn't want people shouting me "dyke" at school. But I needed to get it out of my chest...with someone at least. He kept quiet for a moment and I felt like drowning in shame. But then he spoke". A nostalgic tender smile formed Julia's lips. "He said he had two amazing Aunties that contributed to make his life a wondrous adventure. It was thanks to them that he, the son of a baker, could attend a prestigious college, for instance: they offered to pay for it without asking a penny back. They also helped him write his first romantic letter to his childhood sweetheart and consoled him when the little girl turned him down. But his Aunties had a secret, he added. He said: to my kid eyes they were no less a couple than Mom and Dad and at home we all treated them in manner but one day Mom made me promise to behave differently when we were in public. In public I would refer to her sister as 'Auntie Adele' but call Zetta by her name. He didn't get it and it took some getting used to. He soon noticed that even the Aunties behaved a bit differently out in the sun: they wouldn't hold hands or use endearing words in the street or when other people were around. They simply behaved like good friends did. He understood it later when he, as stubborn as a mule, asked them directly". Julia gently grazed her fingers on the glass of the framed photograph, caressing it. "And they told me everything, he said. That they were in love, just like mom and dad were, but people out there could be uncomfortable and extremely rude to women loving other women and men loving other men. That they kept their companionship a secret in public because those people had no problems with women being friends and they didn't want to have bad words or worse happening to them. I remember asking him what he thought about it. He smiled. 'I cried. Since Auntie Zetta mentioned people claiming that women like them were sick and would burn in hell, I actually started crying. I sobbed desperately in her arms, crying that I didn't want them to burn in hell, I loved my Aunties and I was happy they loved each other. Eventually they explained me it was just a vile lie spread my malignant people. But I got quite a scare and kept staring at them with puffy red eyes and my face wet with tears for a while. It required lots of cuddling to bring a smile back on my face'. He shook his head, laughing of his endearing naivety. Then he pulled over and looked at me. He continued: 'I still don't get why people keep spreading those mean lies but I know for sure that my Aunties weren't sick and didn't end up in hell and so won't you. Don't believe bullshits like that for a split second, okay? And I also want you to remember that it doesn't change a thing for me and mom too. You will always be my little girl, our little girl and we love you'. We shared a long hug before driving back home. On the way back he insisted to buy my favourite chicken and waffles for dinner, saying mom's veggie soup could wait. For my birthday, a month later or so, he asked me to follow him to the attic and showed me this chest. To meet the Aunties that 'would have surely been there for me'". She tipped away a tear. "I told you I married Madeleine right after the legalisation of same-sex marriages. My wedding was also the last public event Mom and Dad attended together before his health worsened irremediably. He passed away last year". For a moment she looked on the verge of tears but she recovered quickly. "Sorry...anyway, that day Dad insisted on walking me down the aisle even if he was getting weak. He beamed with pride when a friend fixed a rainbow ribbon to his jacket. Later at the lunch he read a speech he had written for the day, his hand shaking. He shared the story of his Aunties. He said that despite the hardships their situation forced upon them, they had quite a happy life together, a happiness carefully hidden from the world. He wished us to find something similar to what they shared without needing to hide anymore. He said Adele and Zetta would have been so happy and proud to celebrate with all of us that day" Mrs. Nowak picked the Shakespeare Sonnet book and gave him a fond look. "He brought this to the wedding. And he read for us the sonnet 116, the one Zetta mentioned in her dedication. You know, the one that starts with 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." ----------------------- A few months later the exhibition on old Hollywood queer cinema and artists opened. Each artist had a room that soon filled with a crowd of enthusiastic visitors. In the first half, in a room arranged as a turn of the century nickelodeon with velvet chairs, all the memorabilia of Zetta Serda's public life: panels explaining the various stages of her career and the birth of her myth, promotional pictures of her performances, articles about her and a copy of a gazette announcing her wedding with the director Richard King. On the wall, on a screen her entire filmography rolled up in loop, bewitching spectators after a century. In display cases: the gorgeous sapphire necklace she wore on her last night on the Ship of Dreams and at the movie party of Surviving the Titanic, and a replica of her Cleopatra costume. The aging Queen of Egypt with a tragic love and destiny immortalised by Shakespeare was her last role back on the theater stage before retiring from the scenes. Old scripts with her personal annotation were displayed with photographs taken on sets and mundane events. The wall hosting the motion-picture screen cut the room in half. On the other side, the hidden half of her life. Her life with Adele no one suspected back then. A life kept secret that now unveiled in front of the eyes of the visitors. The curators discovered that finding public pictures of Miss Carrem was nearly impossible, true to the nickname she acquired as time went by: The Shadow. She stayed at Zetta's side until and even after she stopped acting, showing rare loyalty and devotion, but ever surrounded by this mystery allure. No one, even the most stubborn reporters managed to know anything about her and she was soon dismissed as a Titanic survivor, possibly a fan, who worked as Zetta's secretary and somehow gained her respect. Little they knew about the depth of their relationship and what stacks of secret letters and family memories revealed of the life of Miss Carrem. A panel finally told her story and her secret achievements: Adele, or better Adal, kept fighting for a fairer world and society her whole life and marched for women's right to vote on the famous parade in 1915. She also passed the teaching of Edith Garrud to her American sisters. The only pictures of her came from the Nowak family, except for one. The only photograph of a public appearance of Miss Carrem as well as the only known public appearance of Zetta and Adele. An old grainy photo accurately framed showed Adele shaking hands with The Unsinkable Molly Brown on a podium. In her free hand a shiny medal and a few steps behind the mayor of New York. According to the panel, the survivors' committee founded by Mrs. Brown decided to award Miss Carrem a medal for bravery and a generous check "to help her and her sister starting a new life in America". With great surprise, Miss Carrem received the medal and the check, thanked the board but refused the honors. Instead, she asked to deliver them both to the family of a certain Charlie Stoke, a stewart that lost his life in the sinking to save her life and those of many passengers. She added that her friend expressed the desire to study naval engineering one day and she wished that the money kindly offered to her would be enough to establish a scholarship for boys like him across the ocean. In another picture, Miss Carrem and her sister chatted with Moll Brown in company of Zetta. Eventually, other philanthropists and wealthy socialites signed checks for her cause so that the Stoke family received a generous contribution too. And today, as another picture confirmed, the faculty of naval engineering of the University of Newcastle hosts a marble engraving of Charlie Stoke: to his memory a scholarship had been instituted one year after on the anniversary of the sinking. Since 1913 it has been helping students of poor background to get an education and improve their life. Zetta herself became a philanthropist during her Renaissance and ever since. The first act of her new phase of her life was joining the Moll Brown survivors committee to provide help to the second and third class passengers families and survivors. Some said that the tragedy she witnessed touched her heart, other claimed that it was to be attributed to the influence of her publicist. Jokingly, she used to say that after all, she had too much money yet all she could have wished for in her life, so why not doing some good with it? A considerable donation under her and Mr King was received by the main hospital during the Spanish flu pandemic; she was particularly active in providing financial help to struggling neighbourhoods and female education institutions. In the middle of the room, a long glass display hosted the Shakespeare Sonnets opened at sonnet 116 and a selection of the private correspondence between Zetta and Adele. My darling, You will receive this letter tomorrow morning when I'll be already off to Chicago. The suitcases are ready and packed, this is a goodnight note scribbled the night before leaving you to remind you how much I love you and care about you. How much I'm going to miss you even if - thank God! - we won't be parted for long... Do not forget you promised me to write every day! Write to me, Adele, write to me whatever thought crosses that gorgeous mind of you: you know I could you rambling for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice, of your sparkling wisdom. I wanna know everything. So don't be shy: I'll be waiting your letters with tender impatience. Can't wait to be in your arms once more. Adoringly yours, Zetta - Dear, dearest Zetta, I went to Central Park today with Hileni. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze blowing: 'simply too beautiful to be wasted inside' as my sister put it. Did I tell you that she's still exchanging letters with the delivery boy from the hat shop? I thought they were over but apparently he invited her to the nickelodeon next week. Anyway, walking in the park with her I suddenly realised how I wanted to share that spring wonder with you. When are you coming back to New York? Tell me soon, please. And even 'soon' won't be soon enough: you're always on my mind since you left. But yes, tell me soon so I can make you promise we will go for a walk before the weather becomes too hot. Do you think I can wrap my arm with yours? Is it professional enough for a publicist? Even just for a few steps: oh you have no idea how I would love that! Or maybe you have? I hope so: it'd mean you miss me as much as I miss you when we are apart. Oh, I almost forgot: all settled with that magazine you mentioned before your departure! I negotiated a two pages long interview, plus pictures. And a cover mention. Hope I did well: you have already fired me as your secretary, I must prove you I am just what you're looking for in a publicist... Can't wait to see you again! Loving you always, Adele Only one letter was copied on a panel of its own on the main wall side by side with a blow-up of the picture of Adele and Zetta slow-dancing barefoot and free, for a blessed moment immortalised in a discreet shot. Adele pressing a tender kiss on Zetta's forehead, drawing a soft smile on the acrtress' lips. Many visitors commented it was heartwarming to see such a photograph that conveyed the intimacy and the warmth of affection radiating from the dancing couple. Some said that Zetta was even more beautiful like that: free, hair slightly askew and genuinely happy, loved. What stole their hearts away though was the letter attached to it. It was no surprise that the curators decided to name the retrospective Underwater. Dearest Adele, Forgive me for the tone of this letter. I am writing it down in bed while I cannot sleep and my mind runs back to you as if we could meet halfway between the miles separating us, in a world of fantasy of our own. It's ridiculous how much I miss you! I want you near, I need you near all the time. Take tonight: if you were here with me, I would be heavenly sleeping in your loving embrace. Most unfortunately, you are not and I'm lying here, insomniac, thinking of you. And about my life. No, don't frown. I am not getting all sad again. It's...bittersweet. And - I'll spoil you the ending so you will stop worrying, hopefully - it gets better the more you proceed. Have you ever felt trapped underwater? I did, my whole life. Always hiding, always measuring words, gestures, gazes not to let them see, not to let them know...so little time to go up and break the surface. Drop the mask and breathe. In, out. Once, twice. In my lowest moments I repeated to my myself: how are you gonna survive? One day an acquaintance with a remarkable passion for the sea explained me and the other bored commensals that you can keep someone alive by breathing oxygen into their mouth underwater. Pretty much like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation helps an unconscious person to regain consciousness. I found it interesting but doubted his words. Then I met you, Adele. My dearest, wondrous Adele. And I learnt that yes, you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater...but you won't drown if you have the right person swimming by your side in those deep waters. Put your lips on me, Adele. Touch me, hold me in your arms. And I can live underwater. With your love, I can live underwater. We can live underwater. I love you. I want to cover a full page of these three simple words: I love you. I want to cry them out and entrust them to the winds, to the night. But what for? Who cares if the world knows or not? I'll whisper them over your lips when we will be reunited. So you can breathe underwater. Counting down the hours separating us, my love. Eternally yours, Zetta

[seacottons]

Picture Perfect

- pairing: choi san x reader

- word count: 10.4k

- rating: M

- warnings: smut,  asphyxiation,thigh fucking, unprotected sex, cursing, petnames, dirty talk, fingering, spitting, begging, slapping, scratching, oral sex, pure and utter filth.

- summary: You were San’s favorite model to photograph. He’s got you wrapped around his finger to the point where you can’t see past the picture perfect image he’s created for himself.

It has been increasingly stressful working as a part-time model. You weren’t considered one of the well-known, top models in your company, however, you still had very successful photo shoots, as well as receiving numerous brand endorsements and CF opportunities. Your manager, Hongjoong, treated you very well and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You also got along well with a few of the photographers at the company, Seonghwa and San.

The past year had been quite strange as few models made headlines for reasons they shouldn’t have. They disappeared without a trace. No witnesses, no alibis, no suspects, no CCTV footage. Nothing. It had been about a month since the last girl, Kim Sooyoung, vanished. She wasn’t part of your agency, however, with her striking firetruck-red hair, everyone knew who she was. Models with various popularity scales were targeted, so investigators were left baffled at the random targets.

Hongjoong was even more-so protective of you more than ever, always making sure he was around whilst you were at work. Seonghwa and San also hung around during their breaks, and you insisted that the extra attention wasn’t necessary at all. The three men only glared at you in return, fussing among each other regarding the safety of you and the other models at the agency. 

Today was your day off, and San had invited you over for dinner. It was a constant routine between you and the photographer. He would cook you dinner, and in return, you agree to model for him occasionally. 

“I need to try out these new lenses I bought. They destroyed my wallet, so they better be worth the hype.”

“This filter changes the whole game (y/n)! My god, where was this all my life?”

“I need to try these new angles!”

“You’re the only model in the agency who doesn’t just ogle at me the entire time, that’s why.”

“A photoshoot with baby Shiba Inu puppies. It’ll be the highlight of my career, please, (y/n)!”

However, this time, San meekly asked you if it was okay for you to model for him bare. He sounded so small on the other side of the line, and you could only laugh in return, agreeing to his request. He’s seen you clad in scandalous clothes before, as well as lingerie, and in that case you figured it wouldn’t be that much different.

Your gaze bore holes straight at the camera lenses as numerous snaps are taken, before shifting and switching your position, this time sitting on the edge of the king sized bed, bare thighs pressed down against low footboard, as your fist brings the corner of the bunched up comforter over your nether regions, concealing yourself as you lean back to strike another pose for the flashing camera, your long tresses curtaining over your breasts.

“Can you lower the aircon setting, San? The room is getting colder,” you mumbled, disregarding the pool of sheets between your legs and reaching up to frantically rub at your cold arms, goosebumps prominent on your flesh.

  San raises the camera to meet his eye level, he internally berates himself to remain professional- that gaining a full blown boner during a shoot isn't even close to professional but the mere sight of your petite frame before him had awoken a desire he simply couldn't will away. Gritting his teeth instead and attempting to snap pictures from multiple angles in order to photograph your beauty in whole, he couldn't help but to emit a short laugh afterwards, lowering the device with a sheepish expression. it's getting pretty hot over here, though. In more ways than one, and it's all your fault.”

You tilt your head back, an amused laugh spilling past your throat at his words, before regaining his composure and gazing down at his tall frame, eyes fixed on the obvious tent in the other’s pants, “Oh, blaming me now? Weren’t you the one who asked me to be your model. Nude model, if I remember correctly?” You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the male. You had to milk the opportunity to fluster him as much as you can, because you always found his reactions so endearing.

 You flick the white covers off of your body before making your way towards him and taking the camera from his hands, placing it down on top of a shelf, before bringing him closer to your frame with the collar of his shirt, his body stiffening and eyes widening at your bold actions, “How about you take a break and show me what else you can do with those hands of yours, other than take pictures, hm?” You work at loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt before grazing your lips onto his neck tenderly. You want this. You’ve been wanting this for the longest time.

“No one in their right mind wouldn't be affected by someone like yourself simply standing before them, though. I should have known better than to test my limits by having you do so but I'm not complaining, of course. I'm still holding onto those said words of how your beauty is far too ethereal for us beings to withstand,” he mumbled, voice hitching and dropping an octave as he feels your lips press against the junction of his neck and shoulder. He allows his gaze to rake over the alabaster expanse of your exposed skin, feeling a hitch in his breath as the distance nears before wordlessly framing your hips and slotting his lips perfectly against your own shortly after, humming lowly in a surprisingly tranquil manner, “Do I have the permission to completely wreck you? The need to have you- all of you, is growing too painful to bear, my love.”

You trail the tips of your fingers down his jawline as a smile grows on your thin lips, a chuckle bubbling in your chest. “My, you are such a gentleman, Sannie. So prince-like and all..” 

He instinctively leans towards your light touches gracing his heated skin before promptly arching a brow upon hearing your statement, a playful tone dancing throughout his words whilst running a hand through his dark locks,“Haven't I always been a gentleman? Were you too blinded by my appearance that you haven’t noticed, my love? You have such a toll on me and I can do nothing but beg of you not to use it to your advantage.”

You trail a fingernail down his firm chest, letting his hands roam against his strong back as you press your lips back against his own pair, before reaching down to slide your hand beneath his trousers and boxers, giving his bulge light, gentle squeezes. “Then I’m all yours for tonight, darling. I want you to ruin and break me.”

He briefly tongues the seam of your lips as a silent request to gain access before gasping once your dainty fingers take grasp of his pulsing length, grunting as he shamelessly ruts into the warmth and contact of your palm in seek of more. His gaze darkens upon hearing your words, “Oh? I suppose you'd also love the opportunity I’m giving you to ride me, hm? How I’d also like to fill you up to the very brim and make you cry and beg for more? Would you like that, sweetheart?” 

You hum quietly in response as you shed him of his shirt, watching it fall to the floor with a rustle, your eyes roaming at his well defined shoulders and biceps. You bite back a smile as you parts your lips, allowing his warm tongue to glide into your mouth as you gives his cock a rough squeeze, thumbing the leaking slit gently whilst suckling gently on his tongue, the sounds of your lips smacking obscenely against his pair filling the quiet room and sending a jolt throughout your spine. Pulling away ever so slightly, you emit an airy, wanton moan against his mouth, “The things you’re doing to me, Sannie..”

He encircles a well toned arm around your lithe waist to successfully draw you nearer before taking the lead by guiding you onto the bed once again, providing your hips with a light squeeze before humming lowly in acknowledgement, a soft chuckle escaping his throat, “The things you’re doing to me with that sinful body right now, (y/n)..”. He curls his tongue around your own wet muscle once more, begrudgingly retracting from your touch, disregarding his throbbing erection by opting to plant a series of open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the bared column of your neck, nipping at the skin and carelessly littering bites to grace the expanse, “I'll have you crawling back to me for more, baby girl.”

You tilt your head to one side for a more comfortable position as he tongues the junction of your neck, a small moan escaping your lips in the process. Your hands squeeze his shoulders gently, trailing down past his toned chest and subtle hair near his abdomen, before working on unzipping his pants and tugging down his boxers. He fights against the urge to protest whilst your fingers deftly work on undoing his pants, soon discarding the remaining articles on his own and causing his thick girth to slap against his lower abdomen once it's released from the offensive barrier of clothing.

“Fuck, San. You sound so sinful a-and I’ll most likely come undone before you even touch me,” you instinctively tilt your head back as his lips make their way down to your jaw and neck, lips parting for shaky breaths, your fingers wrapping around the base of his erection and giving it a few tugs and squeezes. 

You gaze down at the expanse of his chest and abdomen, eyes finally taking in the sight of his throbbing cock, resisting the urge to run your tongue along the protruding veins, instead flinching slightly when he licks and bites at your earlobe, a small chuckle blowing softly against his face as he wraps your leg around his hips, your other leg spreading as he brings his crotch roughly against yours, grinding and rutting against your glistening folds,desperately in need of friction. 

You feel him smile against your neck, teeth lightly scraping against your skin and leaving pretty pink marks on your flesh. Emitting a quiet chuckle that is soon followed by a raspy moan, he then tugs at your earlobe with his teeth, swiping his tongue across the flesh before resuming his filthy speech, “If that is the case, then I'm going to map you out with my tongue first, unravel you completely before fucking you open with my dick. You're eager for it, aren't you? So eager to be filled—” he reluctantly takes hold of your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head with a firm hold before flattening his tongue against your exposed nipple, flicking his tongue against it with a chortle, “Maybe one day I’ll see for myself just how much my words have a toll on your pretty  little body. And judging from how wet you are, I don’t think it’ll take much for you to come with only my words.”

You bite your lower lip harshly at the sudden warmth and wetness on your rosy bud, your fingers twitching slightly as your wrists try to shift underneath his hold, your back arching as an involuntary gasp escapes into the room, your toes curling tightly from the pleasure, thighs squeezing around his waist as he returns to attack your supple and untouched flesh with his swollen lips,”F-fuck.. always such a tease with that tongue of yours, San..”

He pridefully grants you the sight of his rippling muscles each time his arms shift before emitting a series of grunts from the friction created, reciprocating the said movements by undulating his hips against your own before framing your hips to permit the act of sensually grinding against you, maintaining the eye contact whilst lavishly rolling his hips forth to vex you even further. “Enlighten me, love. Where should I direct my tongue? Is there a specific place you'd like me to pay attention to?” He wants to laugh at the expression on your face, but holds himself at the last minute in fear of upsetting you. San encloses his lips around your rosy bud of your nipples before sucking hard, swirling his tongue around shortly before traveling lower by pressing wet, heated, open-mouthed kisses along your abdomen, pausing to suck a vicious bruise onto your prominent hipbones whilst grazing his teeth roughly against the chosen patch of marred skin.

You swallow thickly, head thrown back as your face scrunches up with the surge of pleasure racking through your body, your hips falling limp as you allow him to grind his angry, red cock against your wet core,chest glistening with a sheen of sweat and heaving up and down as you take heavy gulps of air. You release a string of curses as his mouth travels further down your body, your gaze intruded by a few strands of your bangs as you watch him decorate your skin with kisses and bite marks. You manage to mumble out shyly, neck and ears burning into a soft tinge of pink, “A-ah.. down there, please.. ”

He allows his lips to be tugged upwards by a roguish grin in response to your said words as he then intensifies the rocking of his hips by mimicking the motion of harshly thrusting into you, encircling his long and thick digits around your inner thigh, languidly stroking the supple flesh before striking your globes with a subtle grunt, “Fuck baby, I love it when you become so flustered and submissive with just a few words. Perhaps the next time I bring you to your knees, you'd be able to gag and choke on my cock for as long as you'd like.” 

You bring a fist to your lips, biting roughly on the knuckle to suppress your moans, thrusting your hips upwards in time for his rough thrusts, your eyes closing half way as your head lolls to the side, hips rutting eagerly against his own.He briefly draws away in order to appreciate the sight of your newly tainted skin before spreading your thighs apart, emitting a low and guttural moan upon the mere sight of your bared, sopping hole for his viewing pleasure.

Slapping your hands away upon noticing the sight of you attempting to suppress your moans, he then parts his lips to emit a low groan of pleasure from the imagery of your pretty lips stretching around the thick girth of his dick, batting the urge away as he swipes the pad of his thumb across your opening, your arousal pooling against his digit, before bringing it up to his lips to suck it all off with a lewd pop,”Don’t try and hold back any sound or I will stop, understood?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just.. so overwhelmed,” your eyes turn away and you refuse to meet his burning gaze, face burning in embarrassment. 

“You’re so cute, my pretty baby. I want nothing more than to fuck you stupid.” He bares his teeth in pleasure upon hearing your words before leaning forth to possessively create a dark bruise upon your clavicles, admiring the contrast of it against your porcelain like skin before drawing away to wrap his fingers around the girth of your throat, tipping his head to the side as he silently rakes his gaze over your current flushed state with pride swelling within his chest, “I wouldn't even bother pulling out of you, for that matter. I'd prefer to go for round after round and watch my as cum spills out of that pretty hole of yours to stain the sheets. Only then would I withdraw to shove my tongue into you and clean you up.”

You swallow thickly at his words, face flushing and thighs instinctively drawing together. He scoffs in a miffed manner, hands slamming your knees on either side of the bed and leans closer before promptly obliging to your previous request by flattening his tongue against your entrance, meeting your gaze with hooded orbs,”My love.. is this what you wanted?” 

 You stiffen visibly as his warm tongue trails against your twitching opening, your thighs spreading further apart to give him ease of access as you nod quickly, not trusting your words as you choke on a moan, pathetically whimpering loudly in the process before your hands tangle themselves in his dark locks as he presses his mouth further against your arousal, silently pleading him to snake his tongue into your heat, “Please, please.. San.”

He pauses his ministrations, humming against your skin whilst teasingly raising a brow,”Hm?”

“Fuck me with your tongue, please.. I'll do anything.”

“Oh, I will. And afterwards, I’ll make you pretty by painting your whole body with my cum too,” bracketing your well-rounded globes for leverage, he then flicks his tongue against your folds before tracing your clit with the tip of his tongue, listening to your pleads and whimpers, clearly enjoying the writhing mess he has made out of you before finally giving in with a hushed chuckle, lapping at your sopping heat insistently with visible and growing hunger, “Fuck, you taste so good-”

You incline your head forward slightly, hooded eyes trained the mop of his dark hair as he continues his ministrations against your core, before breathing out a raspy moan at his words, your head falling back against the mattress as the image of yourself stained with his cum flashes through your mind. You attempt to move your hips to grind against his face, before he chuckles against your core, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and firmly locking them securely in place. Your sweaty, flushed face contorts with pleasure as he wraps his lips around your nub, giving it a rough suckle, “F- fucking hell, S-san-” Your fingers tug at his inky locks as your back arches painfully high when he shoves his tongue deep into your warm cavern, tongue curling against your walls without warning, your voice higher an octave as you plead and beg him for more, your hips rutting against his face slightly whilst whimpering quietly as you feel the tip of his nose graze your clit, “A- ah, San- please-!”

Spreading your folds apart, he continues to provide your hole with thick, wet swathes of his spit slick muscle, reveling in the filthy squelches that resonate each time he thrusts his tongue forth and into your channel to stimulate your walls before abruptly inserting it into you as deep as possible, greedily enjoying the unique and highly addictive taste of you dancing across his taste buds. You grips fistfuls of his hair, tugging roughly at the roots as his wet muscle dives further down your cavern, your calves stiffening and toes curling in the air as your hips jolt down subtly with each thrust of his tongue, the lewd squelching noises driving you to your peak as your back arches painfully high one last time, a loud shrill of his name bouncing against the walls of his bedroom as your body quivers from the intensity of your climax. Just as he delves deeper into your tight heat, his eyes widen upon the realization of you reaching your high, drawing away with spit slick lips as well as glistening arousal upon his chin before leaning up to hungrily lap up your flushed entrance, grunting lowly as the slick slides down his throat with each swallow, “Holy fuck- the fact that you came from merely having my tongue inside you is so hot. Being eaten out is one of your main weaknesses, baby? Are there more kinks for me to look forward to and discover?”

You breathe out a shaky moan as his tongue glides along your core, cleaning up the sticky residue, your dainty fingers losing their grip in his hair before scraping the muscles of his back as he scoots up to press his lips atop of your own, “What's the fun in telling you? Maybe you should try other things and see for yourself?”

He relishes the burn and pain thrown into the intoxicating mix of pleasure whilst hoping the crescent marks your nails leave behind remain upon the expanse of his skin, silently adoring the mere thought of being marked by you before engaging in the passionate motion of grinding down against you, smoothly gyrating his hips whilst arching upwards in a rather graceful manner, hissing in delight upon the formed, angry lines of red, “What's fun without a hint of teasing, hm? I think you can bare not having my dick inside you just yet- perhaps I should just press your thighs together and fuck them for today. I could fulfill my promise tomorrow, after all. Maybe even the day after?”

He carefully hooks his palms beneath your knees, guiding them upwards as he presses them against your chest whilst wordlessly admiring your current, exposed state, silently approving of the many marks now marring your once flawless skin. San spits onto your thighs whilst also using some of your arousal to lubricate your skin; he then slots his flushed and erect dick between your delectable, thick thighs before setting a pace of languidly rocking his hips back and forth, groaning aloud due to the surges of pleasure created from the heated contact and slick slide of skin against skin due to his leaking cock. “You'll be the cause of my death- I swear to god, babe.” He then trails his fingertips down your chest whilst sucking on your bottom lip, caressing your skin by splaying the gaps of his digits apart before finally brushing his thumbs against your nipples, roughly tugging at them with a hum in response, “I suppose you do have a point- but the only reason I asked was because I'm terribly eager to please you as well.”

He runs a calloused palm along your inner thigh, squeezing and kneading the reddening flesh before providing you with harsher thrusts, snapping his hips forth with increased force as the obscene slap of colliding naked skin resonates throughout the air filled with the thick and musky scent of sex. He inserts and retracts his throbbing length with vigor, precisely grinding against your entrance, grunting in pleasure whilst throwing his head back to bare his throat for your viewing pleasure. With a smirk curling along his bitten lips, he abruptly inserts two of his long digits into your hole, making use of the slick from the previous ministrations as he plunges them forth to massage your inner walls, “You like that, baby?”

You hiss softly as you’re bent, your entrance twitching from the cool breeze of the room, a breathy moan escaping your lips as you feel his cock in between your fleshy thighs, purposely flexing your muscles tightly as he rocks his hips in between your legs, watching as the red tip of his cock eases through your slicked thighs with ease, before disappearing and returning once more at a feverish pace. An involuntary groan sounding out from your chest as you imagine being filled with his dick, leads him to glance at you, smile adorning his features. “Oh, god, San.. you’re too much for me,” you groan breathlessly, your forearm pressing against your eyes to shield yourself from his intense, burning stare, jaw slack as you squirm beneath him, back arching as he trails open mouthed kisses against your flushed skin, all the while still thrusting in between your thighs, fingers wriggling knuckle deep in your heat, “M-more, San.. please, I need more.”

He gradually releases your abused nipples with a pleased hum as you withstand the burn before rewarding you by kissing a wet path along your thighs, swiping his tongue along the exposed skin whilst almost painfully grazing his teeth against it to effectively vex you with a murmur, “I love how needy you sound, baby. You’re so desperate for my touch, hm? Well, I guess I'm well aware of what I shall be devouring for breakfast from now on.”

Emitting a breathless chuckle once catching sight of you grasping onto the sheets for purchase, the movements of his hips soon grow erratic and begin to stutter, signaling his approaching release as he eager chases after it, tilting his head back with a drawn out, guttural moan as rope after rope of thick cum is released to grace your abdomen as well as chest due to the position, riding out the intense orgasm whilst obliging to your said request by adding a third digit and plunging them in and out of you, even leaning forth to lick at your clit whilst gazing up at you and speaking in a tone laced with deep huskiness, “Cum for me, baby.”

Eyeing the thin trail of spit escaping past the corner of your lips, he promptly leans forth to collect it with his tongue, humming in content as the unique taste invades his cavern and dances across his pleased taste buds. His fingers continuously work, gently massaging the walls of your channel and drawing out your release by circling the pads of his fingertips against the your bud before finally retracting altogether with a sated smirk plastering itself across his contented facade after watching you writhe once more underneath his touch. He chooses to bring the said digits towards his lips shortly after, lewdly swirling his tongue around to clean them of your juices with a moan in delight before finally halting all ministrations once hearing your words.

“That was ..so much- beyond my comprehension. Aha, I don’t know if I’ll be as good as you while returning the favor,” you hummed lowly, eyelids fluttering shut as you try and calm your erratic breaths.

He releases a low sigh of content before pulling away to spit in his palm, meeting your gaze as he then spreads the saliva along your opening before delivering a sharp slap onto the flesh with a chime of laughter, “I hope you're looking forward to being marked more often by myself. Keep in mind that you're allowed to suck me off anywhere, anytime. If that's what you desire, I’ll be all too happy to comply. You’ll be amazing, so don’t compare yourself to me, darling,” he murmurs, “You don't even have to do anything before me and it awakes all possible carnal desires to take you. I simply must ask, (y/n)- are you interested in a committed relationship?” Dragging the pad of his thumb along your plump bottom lip, his orbs then begin to cloud with the desire to properly and officially claim you as his own with a breathy and low whisper, “The mere thought of you belonging to someone else is terribly infuriating.”

“I would love to call you mine as well, Sannie,” a smile graces your lips as you reach forward to brush strands of his ebony locks out of his eyes, “I’ve been pining over for you for months after we met, but I was too afraid to make the first move. Wouldn’t it be deemed as unprofessional.. you know? Model and photographer? What would Hongjoong say?”

Caressing your thigh in a soothing manner with the use of his palm, he then forms a subtle simper in response, finding himself growing impeccably weak upon catching sight of the upturn of your lips, “You’re so sinfully beautiful, baby. Everything I could possibly want and more, for that matter. Work can remain the same, if that’s what bothers you. We’ll have boundaries and such established until you feel more comfortable, okay? Hongjoong will approve, I know him all too well.” He skims his fingertips along your prominent hipbones and smaller frame, taking in each and every detail of yours before meeting your gaze with hesitant orbs, initiating a passionate kiss shortly after interlacing his fingers with yours, your other hand reaching down to palm at his throbbing girth.

“You seem like you can use the help there, love,” you smiled as his eyebrow twitched in response to your touch, his jaw tensing and locking tightly whilst he hardly contained the satisfied, guttural groan escaping his throat.

“I’d be a fool to decline- but at the same time, I want you to regain your energy first. you have pleasured me, after all. The whole session so far has been nothing but because fucking hell, baby- you're perfect.” He splays the gaps of his fingers across your chest and leans in to pepper a few kisses along the length of your jaw, humming contentedly before his breath hitches upon the sight of your wet muscle gliding against your bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he attempts to disregard the growing urge to jump your bones once again by settling by your side instead and encircling a toned arm around your waist in a visibly possessive manner as he effectively draws you closer. “Says the perfect one.”

You emit a squeak of surprise, body tensing as he presses your chest flush against his own. As he spares a glance towards your breasts, he bites back a laugh before carding his fingers through your locks in a soothing manner, gently massaging your scalp by applying the subtlest pressure upon your skin. “I’m speaking the truth- god, look at yourself. Debauched and splayed out just for me, I'd do absolutely anything to wake up to the sight of you this way- every single day.” He begins to hint at the thoughts weighing him down once reluctantly drawing away from the intense and passionate lip lock, leaning into your touch before placing an affectionate trail of pecks upon your palm as well as wrist, “Please, don't argue with me. You’re the epitome of perfection between us two. which is why I was wondering, if you'd like to belong to me. I will treat you so well, baby- you wouldn't be used and thrown around carelessly. I just- desperately want and need to call you mine.”

“I would love to be yours, Sannie. As long as you’ll be mine.”

His brows quirked up, jaw dropping slightly, before hastily leaning in towards your face, pupils blown wildly at your response. Once a kiss had been initiated, his eyes immediately fluttered shut in order to reciprocate, skillfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip before capturing the flesh between his teeth to provide it with a playful tug, “Baby, I'm in dire need to own you and no one else has awakened such desires within me. The thought of someone else swiping you away angers me.” He trails his fingertips along the prominent hickeys left upon your alabaster skin, tracing them with care before leaning forth to gently soothe them with his lips by pressing kisses against them to make up for the sting, “I’m nothing special but I would like you to complete me.”

“The things you’re doing to my heart, Choi San,” You groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes, searching for the right words, before looking up at him and grinning sheepishly from ear to ear, your arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly as you pulls him close and pepper his face with multiple kisses, whispering yes after every other peck of your lips.  As he's drawn towards you, a beam lights up his features each time your lips descend upon his skin and he finds himself emitting a quiet sigh of content before stopping you in order to place a kiss upon your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose as well as your cheeks and finally, your lips with a murmur, “Thank you- thank you so much, baby girl,” and with that, his palms begin to travel along your thighs once again, spreading you apart before straightening up to maneuver himself and settle between your legs with a bite of his lip as he slots his length between your ass cheeks, undulating his hips against yours with a moan whilst teasing your entrance with the flushed tip of his shaft, “Even if you had declined- the urge would have only grown stronger within time. But since you do, thankfully, belong to me now, I promise to shield you away from the dangers of the world. I'd do absolutely anything to keep you happy- therefore, I want you to be completely honest with me concerning your thoughts and wants as well. I'd be all too happy to comply just for you and I'll also be- your personal superhero. The title fits, yeah? I’ve also changed my mind- I want to take you, own you and claim you right now, baby. ”

“San, you are flawless,” you whimper out, slick folds rubbing against his shaft, fingernails dragging down the expanse of his back whilst doing so, “I would love for you to mark and own me.”

He then lifts your hand towards his lips, planting a trail of kisses along your knuckles before emitting a quiet chuckle and shaking his head in strong denial, “I am not 'flawless' nor 'perfect' on my own. I’m the dorky person you'll have to gradually warm up to.  And you- you have no idea how much you drive me crazy altogether,” guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, he presses himself flush against your figure and latches his lips onto your collarbones, hoping the previous preparation would be sufficient as he guides his now, erect and thick girth into your channel, sheathing it deep within you with a low groan before interlacing his fingers with yours as an affectionate gesture and pausing to grant you time to accommodate to the dull burn brought upon your form, “You're so fucking tight for me, baby- t-tell me when you're ready, alright?”

Your thighs tremble at the intrusion, walls fluttering around his girth as you lightly push at his shoulders, before tugging him down so that his frame is flush against your trembling form, arms securely wrapping around him as you emit a whine, “N-no. I.. God, you’re just s- so.. so big. You’re perfect..you truly are, in every sense of the word.”

Eliciting a quiet chuckle in return to your adorable actions, he regards your words by placing several, repeated pecks upon your lips, licking into your mouth to tease you whilst speaking in a lowered tone of voice as happiness laces through, “I don't see how the word 'perfection' even fits this image of mine but since it's slipping past these perfect lips of yours- I’ll take it into consideration and mull over accepting it,” a soft sigh of content slips past shortly after your lips press against his and he draws back with a bright glint within his orbs, “Where have you been all my life, hm?”

Taking notice of your pained state, he brings it upon himself to lave at the column of your neck, distracting you from the building burn before releasing a moan as your walls clamp around his shaft, causing his hips to jerk forth and involuntarily thrust into you with a muttered apology. Once receiving your permission, he initiates a slow yet steady pace of rocking his hips back and forth, appreciating the smooth glide of his lengthy cock within you each time he pulls back and pushes forth whilst uttering against your skin, “Does that feel good, baby?”

You respond with fervent kisses to his lips, mumbling out praise after praise, and he emits a soft grunt towards the contact as he then trails his tongue alongside your own, gently nipping at it and curling his wet muscle around your own before chuckling in response, “ I'll try suppress the urge to decline your compliments by kissing you instead. That does sound like better resolution than a mere thank you, right?” Crinkling his nose in a rather adorable manner, he then opts to capture your bottom lip between his teeth before giving it a playful tug. 

Once his hands are intertwined and laced together with your own, he pins them down on either side of your head before upping the pace of his movements, attempting different angles in hopes of finding your sensitive spot each time he plunges his cock inside. Experimentally swiveling his hips shortly after, he then delivers a particularly hard thrust forward causing your frame to jolt forth in response and shift due to the forcefulness of his eager yet precise movements whilst nipping at your earlobe, a loud cry leaving your lips at the sudden action, “God, I fucking love and adore the sounds you make- I should kiss you till your lips are bloodied and bruised- it'd be a pretty sight for me to photograph too, don't you think?” He runs his long digits through your hair before tightening his grip upon your locks and roughly tugging your head back to bare your neck, leaning in to trace the prominent veins running along the column with a growl, “Mine.”

He silently admires the graceful arch your body creates and immediately sets out to repeat the action, relentlessly fucking into you with strong thrusts as he drives his thick cock into you, watching as your ring of muscles stretches to accommodate the girth each time his hips fluidly snap forth to slap sharply against your ass, “God- you feel so fucking perfect around my cock. I could fuck you all day.” Lowering his lips, he then latches them upon your nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a reddening mark behind once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of the swelling nub.  “Tell me, baby- who do you belong to?” he mutters, teeth nipping and tongue swathing over your earlobe each time the bulbous tip of his dick strikes your walls, stubbornly intent on having you scream out his name whilst pleasured grunts slip past his own bitten lips each time your velvety walls tighten snugly around his pulsing cock seated deep within you,”You're hungry for my cum, aren't you? Wanting it all over you, inside as well as out- fuck, you'd look exquisite that way. Flushed and panting with streaks of my cum painting your chest and rosy cheeks whilst more of it oozes from your hole,” the knots within his stomach begin to tighten irreversibly as a signal towards his oncoming release and his movements gradually turn erratic, managing to utter a warning under his breath, “ Fuck, I’m close-”

Clenching his jaw as your blunt nails dig into the skin of his back, a moan is ripped from his throat shortly after, silently enjoying the pain being thrown into the intoxicating mix of pleasure surging through his veins as you continuously emit wanton whimpers of his name,” That’s  right, baby. You’re  all mine and no one else will ever get to see you splayed out in such a manner.” 

Acknowledging the red lines left behind due to the abuse of your nails and gasping as blood begins to seep through the marks created, he bottoms out before framing your hips and guiding you downwards to meet his strengthened movements, mercilessly driving his cock into you whilst noticing the sight of you reaching your own high, gasping as his own climax washes over his form, causing thick and hot ropes of cum to spill into your hole and paint your walls. 

Riding out the intense orgasm and milking his cock for all its worth, his thrusts finally come to a stop, not wanting to pull out of you just yet as he settles on lightly gyrating his hips against yours by rolling them forth, “God- I fucking love you- I don't even want to withdraw just yet. Do you mind staying this way for me, baby? You were absolutely perfect-” he murmurs, lips ghosting along your shoulders before regaining the steadiness of his breathing after a few short moments of silence, “Now, I want  you to use the restroom and  come back and rest. We’ll take a shower later on and then, I’ll take you home to move your things, where you truly belong, right by my side.” 

“Waking up to your face every morning sounds like heaven to me,” You reach up to peck his lips, head still in a daze after your third orgasm of the night. Humming in reply, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, lips leaving faint trails of feathery kisses onto his glistening neck, “I love you, Sannie. You are the epitome of perfection in my eyes, truly.”

Allowing his palms to trail along the sides of your smaller frame, he then pauses to gently squeeze your hips, even caressing your inner thighs as he appreciates the smooth and supple skin beneath his touch, “God- you're my definition of love and perfection rolled into one.” Emitting a noise of amusement once witnessing your flustered reaction, he then gently pries your fingers off and away from your face, revealing your features with a bright beam in return,” I am glad to hear that you’ll agree, baby and I truly love you to the moon and back,” He welcomes you within his embrace, snaking his arms around your lithe figure before finally placing his palms upon your pert globes with a hum,” I hope to keep such titles and descriptions for as long as I’m by your side.” He gently brushes his nose against yours as a sign of affection before nodding in silent agreement once comfortably settling by your side, groaning under his breath as his length slips out of you due to the change in position whereas the arm encircling your waist tightens it's grip, possessively,” I love you. Now hurry up before I end up falling asleep without having you in my arms.”

You laugh and proceed to head to the bathroom, before hastily returning back to bed with him and failing to notice a hairbrush tucked in the corner of the bathroom counter, with bright right strands of hair coiled tightly between the plastic bristles. Once back in bed, his arms find purchase around your smaller frame,”Goodnight, sweetheart,” He murmurs, placing one last peck upon your plush lips before finally allowing slumber to claim his form. _____

He finds himself awakening hours after with a smile upon his face as he's greeted by your ethereal beauty, sighing in content as he reaches out to caress your cheeks and place a chaste peck upon your lips before drawing away with a murmur, “God- you're absolutely perfect.” Lifting his gaze to watch your expression whilst you sleep, he then begins to experimentally trail his hands downwards and along your inner thighs, spreading them apart before languidly stroking your core whilst nipping at your earlobe in hopes of waking you as well. It doesn't take much longer after that for you to flutter your eyes open, peering frantically before pausing once catching sight of his face.

He retracted his fingers, opting to nestle beside you, lips grazing your cheek as he shoots you a lazy smile. The two of you laid there for what felt like half an hour, words soft spoken against each other’s skin whilst in the other’s embrace. You press yourself against his side, nuzzling the junction between his neck and shoulder as he caresses your arm around his waist, humming softly in content at the warmth of his body, eyes fluttering shut as you listens to his words, before slowly inclining your head against his shoulder, staring at him with questioning eyes, lips quivering as you ponder on whether you should probe further into his words.”I.. you don't mean?”  You point to yourself with a hesitant hand, heart hammering against your chest as a lump forms in your throat, leaving you unable to form any noise. Butterflies flew in your stomach, your heart swelling with adoration at the sight of the man beneath you.

 “Yes. I'm not sure as of right now but- I'd like you to be the main focus of my photography from now onward. Modeling just for me in multiple, rather compromising yet beautiful positions, nonetheless. I’ll speak to Hongjoong about it. I’m tired of having Seonghwa brag about always being the one to photograph you, aha.” Subtly sinking his teeth into a patch of skin by your throat, his fingertips then trace circles onto your hipbones with a content simper, “Oh, and you're also going to be living with me from now onward if that hasn't crossed your mind yet. I can't wait to wake up to the sight of you beside me each day- the very epitome of perfection.”  

“I don’t think I’ll mind you being my main photographer, love. However,” you reach up to brush his bangs out of his eyes, “I would also love for you to model for me. No camera will ever do you justice, but you’re so handsome. It’ll be a shame for you not to pursue a modeling career.”

“A few pictures of myself?” he arches a brow in slight hesitance upon the thought of his self proclaimed lanky limbs and subtly grimaces before waking from his reverie due to your touches upon his skin that leave a fiery trail in its wake, “I- I suppose a change in position would be part of the experience between us two. You could take the reigns and have me model for you- nude, if you'd like. But, I’m not the most well-built guy around and-” you immediately shush him with a glare, hands running along his chest and biceps, praising the ripples of muscle underneath your touch.

 “You think I've got the needed muscles too?” He asks in a tone laced with earnest surprise, experimentally flexing his biceps before a chortle slips past his lips, hoping the darkening pink coloring his cheeks goes unnoticed by opting to shake his head in return, “and now, you're flattering me and turning me into a tomato. Thank you, though, I honestly appreciate it since your opinion is all that matters to me, anyway.”

As you notice the subtle hint of pink on his cheeks, a large grin forms on your face, “Oh, Sannie. Of course I think you have the muscles for it. I’m glad you take my opinion into consideration. Don't let anyone else make you think otherwise about your physique, alright? You’ve been sculpted and crafted by the Gods. I would think you’re a Greek statue if I didn’t know you. And by the way, you look cute as a tomato~.”

“Babe, your opinion is all that matters to me as I've said before- it's the only opinion I shall be taking into consideration for as long as you're mine,” he pokes at his dimples, lips outstretched into a sheepish smile, “I suppose that's a good thing, yeah? You like tomatoes, don't you? But- don't call me cute- I'm the beast here and you're the beauty. Therefore, beasts aren't cute.” 

You pull him down for a kiss with a hearty laugh. You graze your teeth gently against his tongue, mewling into his mouth as your tongue runs along the roof of his mouth, before swirling it around his own, “Starting from this day forward, I want you to accept all of the compliments you receive. You are flawless. Everything about you is perfection, and I hope one day you will  soon realize and accept that fact.” Reaching up to lightly pinch the tip of his nose, you offer a sheepish smile, before eliciting a small groan of delight, only to have it drown into his mouth as  he tilts his head at an angle, deepening the open mouthed kiss. 

Pulling away after a moment to regain his breath, grinning warmly at you, he chuckles airily “It's just that I haven't deemed myself fit enough to withhold such.. thoughts? I'm a lanky guy whose limbs are far too flexible- it's a little tough imagining myself in the place of a model but I'm willing to try, nonetheless.” And with that, he leans forth to press a light peck upon you lips before lightly tapping your nose with a subtle simper tugging at the ends of his lips, “Just for you, my love. A perfect lady such as yourself only deserves the utmost best.”

“You flatter me too much,” you murmur against his lips,”but still, thank you. You’re the sweetest.”

“Flattery out of pure honesty. You don't have to thank me, baby- I’m providing you with anything and everything I know you deserve. All the happiness in the world, really.” 

“I am afraid you think too highly of me, San,” you breathe out, attempting to ignore the way your stomach flutters at his words, “I don’t know if I can live up to those expectations.”

“You aren't capable of disappointing me, love. Although, I was wondering if we could delve deeper into details regarding the lines you draw when it comes to sex. I would detest having to upset you or perform anything you're uncomfortable with. Plus, I'm truly curious when it comes to your other kinks now that I’m well-aware that you enjoy getting eaten out.”

“I honestly haven’t experienced much to know what I like and don’t like. Perhaps we can start with the things you enjoy, and we will see from there?” you caress his cheek with the back of your hand, smiling tenderly at him.

Emitting a soft hum under his breath upon hearing your proposition, he then nods in return before parting his lips to speak whereas his fingertips smooth over the bruises and hickeys left upon your skin from the last session between you and him, “I can only hope that I won't be scaring you off with any of these kinks of mine- but I'll state the first one that riles me up, then. What are your thoughts on asphyxiation?”

You pause, nodding your head whilst in thought, “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never experienced it. I’ve just never met anyone who was willing to try it, but I’m not against the idea. Why? You’re into that?”

Swiping his wet muscle along his pair of lips to moisten it, he then meets your gaze and directs a rather sheepish and timid smile shortly after, shaking his head in response while idly brushing the skin underneath your breasts, “Ah well- I’m glad to hear you're comfortable with it but having you experience it wasn't what I had in mind. I wanted you to wrap your fingers around my throat, really.”

You squirm underneath his subtle touches, and emit a short lived chuckle, before gently pushing his hands down, so that they are resting on top of your ribs instead, “San- please- that tickles.” You stare at his moistened lips, vision hazy slightly, before snapping out of your trance and looking at him with slightly widened eyes, “Wait,me? I mean- you? but, what if I kill you? Will I know when to stop? Are you going to tell me when or..?”

“You'd know, I'd keep you well-informed so you have absolutely nothing to fear. You won't kill me,”  He guides your dainty digits to wrap around his throat as a brief act of demonstration causing his breath to hitch upon the mere contact, gazing down at you with hooded orbs whilst gyrating his hips against yours, flushed cock nestling perfectly against your wet folds.

With long fingers wrapping around your wrist, he meets your gaze and simultaneously nods in time, forming a reassuring smile towards you shortly before parting his lips to speak in a tone filled with need, “I'll let you know when to stop, just- harder, please.”

You inhale a deep breath and sit up in a more comfortable position, before swallowing thickly as you tighten your grip around the circumference of his neck, your breath hitching in your throat as you watch him for any sign of pain or discomfort.

As the pressure increases, the exposed expanse of his skin flushes and a choked moan is ripped from his throat, nodding instead as a wordless response before finally giving your wrist two taps in hopes you'd get the message trying to be conveyed and release your hold. He then swiftly dives downwards, lips hungrily latching around your rosy bud, fingers pinching the other neglected one simultaneously, “I can just come undone with only having your pretty fingers around my throat, darling.”

You gasp lightly and press your back deep into the mattress, your buds stinging from the tight grip, knees bent on either side of him as your hands roam down your back, caressing and squeezing his broad shoulders. “Oh, f- fuck. You and your fingers drive me absolutely crazy, especially when they’re,” you place his hand against your chest, his fingertips grazing your erect nipple, before dragging it downwards to your inner thigh, “Right here and here, biting and licking me.”

Quirking his brows once hearing your words, he then begins to knead and palm your globes with a sly smile, even delivering a light slap onto the right cheek with a chuckle upon hearing your statement, “Most people do tend to notice my hands but I think it's great between you and I. It's easier for me to work you open and have you ride them first.”

“You have the prettiest fingers, especially when they’re knuckle deep in me, but..”

Arching a brow upon hearing your words, he then raises his hand towards his lips, smirking slightly as he engulfs three of his digits, languidly swirling his tongue around them and coating them with a sufficient amount of saliva before drawing them away, now glistening with spit, “Would you like to ride them right now, then?” He then pauses briefly upon noticing your resistance before emitting a soft chuckle once catching sight of your adorable expression and actions, kissing a path along your shoulders and clavicles before licking a hot trail down your torso, humming contentedly whilst doing so. “Ah, I see. You’re hungry for my dick and not my fingers. I hope you won't mind the morning sex when you finally move in-” he places a light peck upon the the hood of your clit before planting open mouthed kisses along the bud whilst meeting your gaze, “Is there anything you'd like me to do in particularly or should I resume with my task of fucking you into stupor?”

“I’m sorry, I love you but.. can we wait a bit? After last night, I feel pretty sore down there. I don’t know if having your dick in me is the best idea right now- fingers and tongue are okay though.” you tear your gaze away from him shyly, face reddening in mild embarrassment.

He emits a quiet chuckle under his breath before shaking his head as he leans forth to fit his lips over yours instead, humming whilst playfully ghosting his fingertips along your nipples, “There's no need to apologize, baby. and- I  love you too. No one shall ever be able to swipe or steal your spot within my heart. you're all I need and more.”

“And so are you, my love. I'm already addicted to you- and it may be unhealthy but I don't think I'm able to find it in myself to complain. I'm falling for you so hard.” Upon hearing your words, he leans up to shower your chest with light pecks of affection whilst encircling his digits around the rim of your entrance, teasing you before finally guiding them into your channel with a low groan towards the tightness.

He swirls his tongue around the flushed nub of your clit before sinking lower, engulfing your core with his wet cavern and obscenely lapping at your glistening folds, pulling away shortly after to speak in a husky tone, “I think I'd rather eat you out first, if that's alright with you. You must be tired, after all and I think my baby girl deserves a little reward since she's behaved so well.”

His lips descend upon each and every blooming mark marring your skin, planting light kisses against them as a form of apology whilst his digits firmly frame your hips, “I hope I've inscribed myself within your mind, really. The same way you've wormed your way into mine. You've completed this lonely heart of mine. Perhaps, if not already- within due time, I'll do the same to yours as well.”

When you pull him up face level, he willingly reciprocates the initiated kiss, silently enjoying the connection before parting his lips as a silent sign of granted permission, snaking his tongue into your mouth before coaxing the wet muscle into his own as he swirls it around your own in a synced rhythm whilst his lips then curl into a smirk as his digits twist to massage your walls, “You like that, baby? God- you're still so tight for me. I can't wait to fuck you open every morning- to have you splayed out upon my sheets this time whilst I drive my cock into you.”

You loll your head to the side, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the intensity of the pleasure racking through your spine,thighs jostling as he repeatedly pounds his digits into your small frame, short gasps and moans filling the room as you withdraws your legs from either side of him, folding them back against your body in order to give him more ease of access, “A- ah.. baby, please.. don't ever stop- make me cum over and over. Fuck-” You release a strangled whimper as you feel his lips against his bud, wrapping around the rose colored flesh and sucking harshly.

“Then I won't till I've you begging me to stop,” he mutters lowly before flattening his tongue against the your opening, tracing the folds with the tip of his tongue before nipping at a spot right beneath your clit with his teeth, grazing your nub, then fitting his lips around it and sucking hard, sensually bobbing his head at a measured pace whilst working his tongue along your leaking core, to provide you with as much pleasure as possible with each flick of his tongue.

He applies a fluctuating amount of pressure each time his digits press against the your velvety walls, massaging them whilst admiring your current state with blown orbs of his own, feeling his length beginning to twitch from the mere thought of the said penetration, “C'mon, baby- tell me exactly what you want. I'm all yours, after all.” 

A few hours pass by as you lay together in bed, chests heaving from another round of pleasure. You emit a laugh while nuzzling the crook of his neck, praising him for being so kind and gentle with you.

“Then, I’ll continue to shower you with words of affection, praises and descriptions of just how much I adore you altogether. You deserve nothing but the best, therefore I'll do absolutely anything and everything I can to provide you with just that. Please, there's no need to thank me at all. Since you're returning these feelings of mine towards you, I couldn't possibly ask for something better. I love you- so much.” Drawing away from you, he then meets your gaze before pressing his and your lips together, initiating a passionate kiss with a soft hum in contentment.

Sparing a glance towards your bare and dainty digits, he then brushes his own across your knuckles with a thoughtful hum, “What would you like as a symbol of possession, hm? A ring, maybe?”

You momentarily ponder, eyes drawn to the red lines decorating the flesh on his chest and pecks, before looking up to meet his eyes, “Anything will do, San. I’m not picky. I’ll leave it up to you.”

An amused chortle slips past his plump lips before a toned arm encircles your waist, effectively drawing you closer whilst instinctively responding to your touch by tipping his head to rest his cheek against your palm, even pressing a few pecks upon your wrist before speaking up in a playful manner, “Anything? What would you say to a collar, then? One with a bold 'S' engraved upon the front? You’ll be my cute little kitten, hm?”  

He then showers the column of your neck with fleeting pecks of affection, even providing your hand with a light squeeze of reassurance shortly after whilst you hum in agreement,“Wait- really? You'd like that?” His fingertips dance across the fair skin of your bare neck, finding himself smiling upon the mere thought of a collar gracing it before nodding in approval and agreement, admiring the upturn of your lips with a mirrored one of his own, “It's decided, then. A collar with my initials, it is. Perhaps- years or possibly months later, you'd even say yes to a ring, hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat at his implication, hands immediately darting up to shield your flushed face as you cry out, “Choi San, you will be the death of me!” You huff and card your fingers through his locks, shooting him a pout as he laughs at your words, “But, I think I’ll like  that.. I love you. Growing old with you sounds like an adventure, so count me in.

Relishing in the glide of your digits across his scalp, he emits a sigh laced with satisfaction before eliciting a light-hearted burst of laughter, “You sound like the very definition of the ideal being and I'm terribly grateful since I'm able to call you mine. I love you too, beautiful. No words shall ever suffice to define my feelings, either.”

You rest a hand atop of one of his, while the other caresses the back of his neck in a soothing matter, fingers curling between the lavender ends of his mullet, nodding fervently at his words, before emitting a quiet chuckle, “You don't know how flattered I am to hear that. No one's ever said something so sweet, and you make me feel appreciated and loved. I can't thank you enough for that. and Honestly, I've fallen for you all the same. You're so charming, so sweet. I really couldn't have asked for anything more. I really do love you, darling.”

“Oh, (y/n),” he murmurs before dipping forth to latch his lips onto your jawline, gently flicking his tongue across your skin before traveling lower to gently graze his teeth along your prominent clavicles with a hushed murmur, “Just what have you done to me, my sweet (y/n)?”